Joyce remained for some moments in deep meditation.  He wanted to go into Annapolis, and he didn’t care about going on a lonesome expedition.  The more he thought the better Joyce realized how hard it was to frame a request that would get past the O.C.

“I have it,” spoke up Dalzell at last.  “We’ll ask leave to run up to Baltimore to consult an oculist.”

“You idiot!” cried Joyce impatiently.  None of us need spectacles.”

“Besides, there’s no train running to Baltimore as late as this,” added Dave.

“No good, then,” sighed Dalzell, “and my inventiveness is gone.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to French it over the wall,” insisted Joyce.

“You’ll French it alone, then,” Dave declared.  “I draw the line at leaving the grounds without official permission.”

“Prig!” grunted Joyce under his breath.  Then he started up, his eyes shining with the light of a new resolve.

“Got an idea?” asked Dan.

“Yes,” said Joyce.  “And you’ll call me a fool if I let you in on it now.  Wait until I see how it works.”

With that he hastened from the room.  Darrin drew down a book from the bookshelf, and from between its pages extracted a letter from Belle, which he began to read for the dozenth time.

A few minutes passed.  Then Joyce knocked, next entered the room with jubilation apparent in his face.

“I’ve fixed it,” he cried.  “All you fellows have to do is to go to the O.C. and make your request in person.”

“Request for what?” Dave asked, looking up as he folded the letter.

“I told the O.C., plumply, that we were so tired of being on this side of the wall that we felt desperate for a change.  I reminded him that we are all three in the top grease grade, and told him that we wanted permission to take a short stroll through Annapolis to-night.  O.C. hemmed and hawed, and said it was a most unusual request for the evening, though proper enough for Saturday afternoon.  At last he called up the commandant of midshipmen, stated the case and asked if he might grant the permission.  The com. was game and said all right.  So all that remains is for you two to go to the O.C. and make your request in person.  Scat!  Get in motion!  Start!  I’ll wait here until I hear that you’ve put it through.”

“Of course, Joyce, you’re not putting up a joke on us?” demanded Darrin, looking keenly at the Navy quarter-back.

“On my word I’m not.”

“Come on, Danny boy,” called Dave, starting, and Dalzell followed readily enough.  They entered the office of the O. C., saluted and stated their case.

“It is, of course, a somewhat unusual request to grant for the evening,” replied Lieutenant-Commander Denham.  “However, I can grant it if you will both assure me that you will take extreme pains to keep out of trouble of any kind, and that you will not enter the theatre or any other resort that would be bad judgment for a midshipman to enter.”