The chief event that concerned the Naval Academy at this time was its
defeat in football by West Point; if one were to judge the importance
of this defeat by the effect produced at Annapolis he would say it was
a national calamity. All at Annapolis, officers, midshipmen and even
citizens in the old town, were filled with consternation and dismay.
During the game, on the bleachers, Ralph saw his eleven heroes, despite
incredible effort, relentlessly pushed back, overwhelmed and crushed
by the unconquerable West Point team. From the beginning, defeat for
the midshipmen was seen to be inevitable, and for two hours many hearts
throbbed in painful anguish. The return from Philadelphia was a bitter
one for the midshipmen, for West Point had been victorious the previous
year; but grim determination was in the heart of every midshipman, and
“we’ll beat them next year” was the dogged resolve everywhere heard.
Ralph was now one of the marked men of his class. He maintained his
lead in mathematics and was improving in his French and English
studies. He took naturally to the study of the laws of chemistry,
and of sound, light and heat, and though he had never studied these
subjects before, he immediately took high rank in them, standing number
five in his class for the first term.
Ralph took formation, drills and studies easily; inspections no longer
worried him. Sometimes he was late at a formation and occasionally his
room was reported for “out of order at morning inspection” and like all
midshipmen he sometimes received demerits, but never enough in any one
month to put him off the first conduct grade.
Three officers took turns in doing duty as officer-in-charge,
spending twenty-four hours with the midshipmen. During his tour the
officer-in-charge was kept busy carrying out the routine, making
inspections, answering questions by midshipmen, and receiving reports.
One of these officers, Lieutenant Fellows, afforded the midshipmen
great fun by a peculiarity he had of frequently calling things by their
wrong names, and mixing up the syllables of a word. It was probably a
slight form of aphasia. One time during March, in evening study hours
while Ralph and Creelton were having an animated conversation in their
room, a sudden rap was heard on their door and in strode Lieutenant
Fellows, his sword and white gloves proclaiming he was making an
evening inspection.
Ralph and Creelton jumped to their feet, and stood at respectful
attention.
“Have this stopping talked,” he ordered. “Who’s doing this stopping?”
Ralph wanted to laugh, but managed to say, “I was conversing with my
roommate, sir.”
“You are reported for loud stopping during study hours, sir; what is
your name?”
“Osborn, sir.”
This was told with great glee to third classmen and thereafter Mr.
Fellows was dubbed “Loud Stopping,” though he probably never knew it.
Another time in telling some apparently deeply interested midshipmen
of a wonderful escape he had from drowning, he said, “And then I
sankly gent into the water----” and he was surprised and perplexed at
the spontaneous burst of laughter that greeted his remark. On another
occasion he used the expression, “a paint of coat,” meaning to say of
course “a coat of paint.” He was a kind-hearted man, pompous in manner
and ordinarily altogether too lenient with the midshipmen. Many times
after he had made some report against one, the delinquent would talk
earnestly to “Loud Stopping” about it, and the latter would erase
the report. Then at other times, Mr. Fellows would feel he had been
altogether too easy with the young gentlemen and he would become most
unexpectedly, tremendously severe. The midshipmen liked him but they
constantly laughed at him.
The third class year was passing uneventfully for Ralph. It was very
satisfactory to him because he was so successful in his studies. There
was now additional zest in his work because he was aiming to, and
stood good chance of standing first in his class. His most formidable
competitors were his most intimate friends, Himski, Bollup and
Creelton, so the rivalry was a very friendly one. Of all his classmates
Ralph liked the jovial, great-hearted Himski most. He always kept on
good terms with Creelton but was more drawn to the others.
As time went on Ralph thought less and less of his hidden enemy.
Several times during the months that passed some third classman
reported the theft of money, or of some valuable article. On each
occasion Ralph always insisted on having his room searched, “for my own
protection,” he explained to Bollup and Himski when they remonstrated
with him, but nothing was ever found. It is likely that consciousness
of a secret enemy made Ralph particularly careful about obeying the
regulations. He had the feeling he was watched and that any grave
misdemeanor would become known to the authorities.
One Saturday in April while walking alone through the grounds he passed
a tall, pimply-faced, round-shouldered man about twenty-seven years
old, dressed in civilian’s clothes. Ralph paid no particular attention
to him until the man suddenly stopped, and in a rasping, snarling
voice said: “Why don’t you salute me?”
“I didn’t know you were entitled to a salute sir,” Ralph said. “I never
saw you before and will be glad to salute you if you are entitled to a
salute,” and Ralph saluted as he spoke.
“I am entitled to a salute, and it’s your business to know me. I’m
Professor Moehler, instructor in mathematics. You midshipmen make a
point of never knowing civilian instructors; I’ve looked that point up;
you’re required to salute me and you’d better not pretend another time
not to know me.”
“I haven’t pretended, sir; I didn’t know you. I had no reason to think
you were an instructor.”
“I hear what you say but I have my own ideas on that subject. Salute me
again.”
Ralph’s face got red; he hesitated, and then slowly executed a proper
naval salute, watching the professor narrowly.
The latter turned to resume his walk, saying, “You’d better not pretend
another time, Mister Midshipman, unless you want to get reported for
disrespect. That would give you twenty-five demerits.”
“One moment, sir,” said Ralph, a determined look shooting out of his
eyes. “You are correct in saying the regulations require a midshipman
to salute an instructor; and the same regulation is just as mandatory
in requiring the instructor to return the salute. I have saluted
you twice and you returned neither salute. Further, I consider you
hazed me when you directed me to salute you the second time, and you
have insinuated I was not speaking the truth when I told you I was
not pretending, that I didn’t know you. I shall report you to the
commandant, sir; he is here to protect midshipmen as well as to direct
them and punish them.”
“Oh, I say, don’t do that; I didn’t mean anything,” cried Professor
Moehler with a troubled face; “here, I’ll salute three times----” and
he made three grotesque gyrations with his hand, which he helplessly
intended for military salutes. “Look here, mister, don’t report me;
I’ll lose my job if you do!”
Mr. Moehler ran after Ralph crestfallen and begging not to be reported,
but Ralph was very angry and refused to listen to him. He went direct
to his room and made a written report of the incident which resulted
in a severe reprimand and warning for the instructor. Mr. Moehler had
been at the Academy but a few days when this happened. He had been told
that midshipmen looked down upon civilian instructors and objected to
saluting them, which was entirely a mistake, and he had announced that
he would force them to salute him.
This incident created much talk in the little midshipmen world. After
this Mr. Moehler received the most elaborate salutes from midshipmen.
He even noticed that the superintendent and commandant apparently
didn’t receive as deferential salutes from midshipmen as he did. This
bothered him somewhat, but he concluded that naval customs were queer
and kept his opinion to himself.
When the sections in mathematics were posted for May, Ralph led his
class; this pleased him but he had expected it. While looking at the
room number where his section was assigned to recite, he suddenly
slapped his hands together and exclaimed: “By George, that’s too bad;
I’ve got Moehler as my instructor next month.”
“I wish I had,” replied Creelton ruefully. “I’ve tumbled down to the
second section. This is the first time I’ve been out of the first
section in math since the plebe semi-an exam.”
“I’m sorry for that, old fellow,” said Ralph. “You haven’t boned much
this last month; you’ll get back without any trouble if you try.”
In May Ralph’s class in mathematics had integral calculus. As he
believed Mr. Moehler would look at him with no friendly eye he was
doubly careful in the preparation of his lessons. As number one man
in his class it was to be expected his mark would be excellent, but
Moehler gave him high marks grudgingly. For the fourth recitation Ralph
had to Mr. Moehler, he was directed to deduce a formula which was in
the day’s lesson. Ralph, always delighting in original work, arrived
at the formula by a different method than that laid down in the book.
Mr. Moehler, busy listening to demonstrations of other midshipmen in
the section, did not get to Ralph till near the end of the hour. Then
he glanced at the blackboard where Ralph stood, and said, “That’s all
wrong, Mr. Osborn.”
“This is right, sir,” replied Ralph. “It will only take me a minute to
explain it, if you’ll listen----”
“It’s all wrong; I can see that at a glance--you’ve cooked up the
result somehow, but it’s wrong. Rub it out.”
“Sir, this work is right; it isn’t the method used in the book, but I
can prove to you it’s right. Now----”
“Rub it out, I tell you,” thundered Mr. Moehler.
“Will you let me explain it, sir?”
“No, rub it out.”
“May I send for the head of the department to explain it to him?”
“No, you may not; I’m running this. Rub that out. You’ve earned a zero
for this morning’s work.”
Moehler was pale with anger and his voice trembled. Ralph hesitated a
moment, then slowly rubbed his work out, and without another word left
the blackboard and took his seat. The section was soon marched out of
the recitation room, and when Ralph reached his own room he hurriedly
wrote the following letter, addressing it to the commandant:
“SIR:--
“I have the honor to request your consideration on the following
statement.
“This morning, in my recitation before Instructor Moehler, I was
required to deduce a formula which I did by a method not given in
the book, but which is correct. Mr. Moehler said this was wrong and
refused to listen to my explanation, and informed me he had marked me
zero.
“The demonstration is appended exactly as it appeared on the
blackboard. I respectfully request it be sent to the head of the
department of mathematics, and that if zero is not the proper worth
of this demonstration, my mark of this morning be changed.”
Professor Scott was full of delight at Ralph’s original demonstration
and of anger toward Mr. Moehler. “You will mark this paper, sir,” he
said to the latter, his own voice trembling with indignation, “and
you will change Mr. Osborn’s mark to correspond. And let me tell you,
sir, if any further reports of this kind come I shall recommend your
discharge. This is as fine a piece of original work as I’ve ever seen.
It deserves a 4 and you marked it 0. Mr. Osborn is number one in his
class; if you have occasion to mark him less than 4.0 in his future
recitations you will inform me immediately.”
Mr. Moehler was chagrined to the last degree and correspondingly
apologetic, but Professor Scott’s anger was not to be soothed. He
required the instructor to inform Ralph that his mark was changed to
4.0.
Four days later at the end of an hour’s recitation, Ralph, with the
rest of his section, at Mr. Moehler’s order, marched from the room. As
is customary Mr. Moehler followed them out, saw them form and march
away. He then went back in the section room.
“Shall I rub out, suh?” inquired the colored man.
“Wait a minute; I’ll just see if I’ve everything marked. What’s that?”
he suddenly exclaimed in great amazement, and an expression of hot
anger crossed his face. “Don’t rub out a thing, do you understand?
Leave everything just as it is.”
“Yes, suh.”
Mr. Moehler then went to the corridor and calling for an attendant,
sent him to Professor Scott with a request for the latter to come to
the recitation room immediately.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Moehler?” demanded Professor Scott, a moment
later; “you look excited.”
“Sir, I dismissed the first section but a couple of moments ago and
went into the corridor with them according to your order. I’d like to
call your attention to what I found on Mr. Osborn’s blackboard.”
Professor Scott quickly glanced at the blackboard indicated, and
overwhelming astonishment was depicted on his face. “Incredible!” he
exclaimed.
At the upper left-hand corner of the blackboard was the name “Osborn.”
Below it was the demonstration of a problem and below this, in bold
handwriting, was written the sentence:
“Professor Moehler is a liar and a fool.”