Before Brimmer could utter a word Darrin pounced upon him, seizing him by the collar and fairly dragging him into the alleyway.

Then, still gripping his astounded, dismayed foe, Darrin demanded: 

“Tony, is this the fellow who paid you to drug my friend?

“The treacherous Greek has betrayed me!” was the thought that flashed instantly through Brimmer’s startled mind.

“Let go of my collar, Darrin!” he commanded loudly.  “If this lying Greek has dared to say that I ­”

“Shut up!” ordered Dave tersely.

Ever since coming to Annapolis he had tried to keep his temper in the background.  But now, quivering in his righteous wrath, Darrin was once more the hot-headed, impulsive, generous Dave of old ­a doer of deeds, and a thrasher of scoundrels.

“No, no, no!” protested Tony, shrilly and cunningly.  “Mr. Brimmer, he no tell me ­he no hire me ­”

“Be silent, fellow!” commanded Dave Darrin hotly.  “You’ve told the truth once.  Don’t spoil it with a dozen lies!  Brimmer, you dastard, you disgrace to the noble old uniform ­”

By a quick, forceful twist Brimmer had freed himself from Dave’s frantic clutch.

It availed the plotter but little, however.

Quick as a flash Dave let drive with his right fist, landing a blow on the chest that sent Mr. Brimmer flat to the pavement of the alley.

“You coward!  You ­” screamed Brimmer, as he rose.

But no sooner was he on his feet than Dave planted a terrific blow over his left eye.

Down went Brimmer again, his eyes closed “until further notice.”

“Don’t try to get up!” warned Darrin, crouching over his enemy.  “If you make a move upward, until I’m through talking, I’ll kick you clean over the town of Annapolis and far out into Chesapeake Bay.  Brimmer, if you send me a challenge when we get back to Bancroft Hall, I won’t pay any attention to it until after the class has passed on the merits of the case.  If you want to fight here and now I’ll let you up and we’ll settle it right off.  But no formal fight, under decent auspices.  You hear me?  You understand?”

Brimmer made no reply.

“All right, then,” nodded Dave.  “I understand that you don’t want to fight here.  Don’t try to provoke me into a formal fight, at the Naval Academy, unless you are prepared to defend your side before a class committee.  Now get up and take yourself away ­you infamous hound!”

Tony, in the meantime, had swiftly vanished.  The Greek’s change of front, in denying his charge against Brimmer, had been prompted by craft.

“Meester Brimmer, he pay me, now, not twenty dollars, but all the money he have, and all he can get,” chuckled the rascally Greek.  “Otherwise, he be afraid I tell too much, and he get the double-queeck out of the Naval Acadeemy!”

Brimmer, boiling with helpless rage, got up and made off as quickly as he could.  He would have fought, on the spot, but knew that with one eye closed, and giving him great pain, he would be but a football for the strenuous Darrin.

And now Dave bent over his chum, who, still unconscious, was breathing heavily.

“He’s in no immediate danger,” breathed Darrin, in great relief.  Then, hearing wheels, he stepped to the end of the alleyway.  As if in answer to his prayer the vehicle turned ont to be a cab, and without a fare.

“Driver, I need you here!” called Dave, and the cab rolled in at the curb.

“Follow me,” directed Darrin, leading the way up the alley

Catching sight of the prostrate midshipman the driver grinned.

“No, he’s not intoxicated!” flashed out Darrin half angrily.  “This is all a trick.  Help me lift him into your cab.  Then drive us to the best physician in the town.”

Dan was propped in place on the back seat, Darrin beside him.

“Give me the card of your stable, driver,” Dave requested.  “I haven’t money enough to pay you, but I’ll write and have my father send you the amount of your bill.”

“That’ll be all right, sir,” nodded the driver who knew the ways of midshipmen, and who also knew that such a “risk” was a safe one.

A few minutes later the cab stopped before the residence of Dr. Stewart.

“See if the doctor is in,” directed Darrin.

The physician was at home, and not engaged.  So Dave and the driver carried Dan into the medical man’s office.

“Too bad!” murmured the physician.  “Intoxicated, eh?

“No, sir,” responded Dave quietly, “and that’s one of the things I wish you to note positively, so that you can be prepared to certify if necessary.  This is the stuff, I believe, with which my friend was drugged.”

Dave passed over the vial Tony had handed him.  Dr. Stewart smelled the contents, then touched the bottle lightly to his tongue.  Next he stepped over to a cabinet, poured a small quantity of the liquid into a test tube and did some hurried experimenting.

“The regulation knockout drops,” he smiled grimly.  “Now, help me to take off your friend’s overcoat.  Whew!  There is the smell of alcohol here!

“Only on the overcoat, I guess, doctor,” suggested Dave.  “You don’t notice any on my friend’s breath, do you?

“No,” replied the doctor.

“There has been a plot on foot to make it appear that my friend had been indulging in liquor.  Doctor, I hope you can prove positively that such was not the case.”

“I shall have to pump the young man’s stomach out.  That is the first step in getting him back to consciousness.  That will also show convincingly whether he has been using alcoholic drinks.”

Within three minutes Dr. Stewart was positive that Dan had not been using strong drink.

Soon after Dan regained consciousness.  Dr. Stewart quickly gave him something to restore his faculties.

Catching sight of the office clock Dave broke in: 

“Doctor, if it is barely possible, we must be back for supper formation.  Can you fix it?”

“I think so,” nodded the physician.  “You can help.  Turn on that electric fan and place your friend’s uniform overcoat where the fan will play upon it.  That will drive away most of the smell of alcohol.”

“Alcohol?” mumbled Dan wonderingly.

“Don’t try to think, now, Mr. Dalzell,” ordered the physician.  “Mr. Darrin will explain to you later.”

Dan lay on the lounge, the physician keeping a finger on his pulse.  Presently the man of medicine gave Dan another drink of restorative.  “Now, get up and walk to the back of the room with me,” commanded the physician.  “Here, I’ll throw this window up.  Now, take in as deep breaths as you can.”

Dave, in the meantime, was standing near fan attending to driving the fumes from his friend’s coat.

A few minutes later Dr. Stewart gave Dalzell a third draught.  Dan was now recovering steadily from his mental numbness.

“You can take your friend away safely, now,” declared Dr. Stewart, at last.  “He can thank a strong constitution for recovering so quickly under treatment.”

“Shall I take him near the gate in a cab, or walk him there?” asked Darrin.

“It will bring about his recovery more completely if he walks.”

“Pardon me for a moment, then, and I’ll go outside and release the driver.”

Then, returning, Darrin added: 

“Doctor, if you’ll hand me your bill, Mr. Dalzell will see that his father remits to you.”

Dr. Stewart nodded, wrote the bill, and passed it over.  It was not by any means the first time that the physician had done business on that basis.

“A fairly brisk walk, gentlemen, will be best,” said the doctor, at the street door.  “Good evening ­and good luck.”

“Another Naval mystery, I suppose,” smiled the physician, as he turned back to his office.  “But I shall never hear from it again, except when the remittance arrives from the young man’s father.”

Arriving at the Maryland Avenue gate of the Academy grounds Dave turned in report for both of them.  Then the chums continued across to Bancroft Hall.

Midshipman Brimmer was reported absent, but accounted for, at that supper formation.  At that moment Brimmer was undergoing a Naval surgeon’s treatment for his eye.  Brimmer’s brief explanation to the surgeon was that he had run his face against something hard in a dark alleyway while in town.  The surgeon noted down the explanation, smiling grimly.

That being Saturday evening, with release from studies, Dave slipped down to the door of Farley and Page, and invited them to his quarters.  There sat Dan.

Both Farley and Page listened almost in stupefaction.  They had always rather liked Brimmer.  Yet they were convinced that Darrin spoke the truth.

“Now, help me with your advice,” begged Dave.  “Should I make an official report of this whole matter?

“Not until you have stronger evidence against Brimmer,” suggested Farley.

“Would it do any good to ask for a class committee, and to bring Brimmer before it?”

“Not until you have a better case to offer,” replied Page.

“Then what should I do?”

“Cut Brimmer, of course,” said Farley thoughtfully.  “And don’t let him guess that you’re going to let up at any point of the investigation into the matter.”

“We won’t let up, either,” blazed Dave, “if we can think of any way to probe the facts.

“I don’t believe it will do much good to fool with Tony, the Greek,” suggested Midshipman Page.  “Brimmer has more money than any of us, and he’ll pay blackmail to keep Tony’s tongue quiet.”

It was Tuesday when Midshipman Brimmer returned to formations.  Immediately after breakfast Dave Darrin went up to him.

“Mr. Brimmer, I want a word with you.”

“I don’t want any words with you, at any time, Mr. Darrin,” Brimmer retorted bitterly.

“You won’t have any that are not necessary,” retorted Dave.  “Yet I think it will be to your advantage to step aside and hear what I have to say now.”

“Make it very short, then.”

“Mr. Brimmer,” continued Darrin, when they were by themselves, “all I have to say is to confirm the language that I used to you the other evening.  Further, I will say that you are quite at liberty to report me for having assaulted you.  Or, you may ask for a class committee to investigate this affair between us.  The last that I have to say is that I have the vial of knockout stuff that you gave Tony to serve to Dalzell and myself, and I have also expert testimony as to the nature of the stuff.  Nor do I mind admitting to you that Dalzell and I are going to go as far as we can in getting the evidence that; will warrant our making an official report your scoundrelly conduct.  If possible we shall bring about your dismissal from the Naval Academy.”

Brimmer’s eyes flashed.  Yet in the next minute the yellow streak in him showed.  His lip quivered, and he begged, brokenly: 

“Darrin, show a little mercy.  Would you care to be kicked out of the Academy?”

“Not any more than Dalzell would have liked it,” replied Dave dryly.

“Then you must realize that it would spoil my life, too.”

“Mr. Brimmer,” retorted Darrin sternly, “it is no longer a question of what your feelings in the matter may be.  The plain fact is that you are not a gentlemen ­not honorable.  You are not fit to be the comrade of gentlemen.  You are a profanation of the uniform of the United States.  It is for the good of the service, far more than for any personal enmity, that several of us have resolved to keep on the hunt for evidence until we get a complete enough lot to drive you away from Annapolis.”

Finding that coaxing was of no avail Brimmer became surly.

At the first opportunity for liberty to go into town Dave, Dan and Farley went abruptly to Tony, the Greek, questioning him insistently.  Tony, however, would not say a word beyond stolidly denying that he had had any part in the plot, and that he had ever said so.

Tony had abundant reasons for his silence.  He had promptly demanded two hundred dollars from Brimmer, and the latter had sent post haste to his father for the money, explaining only that he needed it to “buy his way out of a scrape.”

The money now rested in Tony’s pocket.

Dave, Dan, Farley and Page tried hard, however, in other directions, to secure the need evidence.  There was no druggists’ label on the vial, so these four midshipmen visited all the druggists in Annapolis, seeking light on the matter.  The druggists, however, denied any knowledge of the vial or of its contents.

Now, the friends appeared to be up against a dead wall of difficulty.  They did not cease their efforts, however, and held many conferences behind closed doors.

Brimmer kept track of their activities as best he could.  He became moody, and slackened in his studies.

After that the semi-annual examinations came on.  Dave passed better than he had hoped, making two-nine as his standing.

Dalzell was forced to be content with two-seven, but as two-five was a high enough mark for passing Dan was delighted.  Farley and Page got through safely, and that was all.

Fifty-nine of the men of the fourth class were dropped for failing to keep up to the two-five standard.

And one of these was Midshipman Brimmer.  He and the other unlucky ones left for their homes as soon as the results had been announced.

Brimmer would have passed, in all probability, had he not been unstrung by the knowledge that four of his comrades were working to secure the evidence which should warrant his expulsion from the Naval Academy.  Oppressed by dread, this young scoundrel was not capable of doing his best work at the semi-annuals.

So Brimmer left as Henkel had done.  The only difference was that Brimmer did not have to slink away to the tune of “The Rogue’s March.”

“You’re past the worst of it, now, mister,” murmured Youngster Trotter, in passing Dave.  “You’ll win through hereafter.”

But Dave Darrin could hardly help feeling that his greatest thankfulness was over the fact that the poisonous pair, Henkel and Brimmer, were both out of the Navy for good and all.