“I think you are crazy, Shuffles.”

“We should have a high old time if we could get possession of the ship.  We wont say a word about it yet.”

“I think you had better not.”

“We might go round Cape Horn into the Pacific, and have a splendid time among the beautiful islands of the South Sea.”

“Of course all the fellows wouldn’t join you.”

“We could put those ashore somewhere who did not agree with us.”

“You know the penalty of mutiny on the high seas.”

“Bah!” said Shuffles, contemptuously.  “It would be nothing but it lark. 
No one would think of hanging us, or even sending us to prison for it. 
My father is rich enough to get me out of any scrape.”

“So is mine; but I don’t think it would be quite safe to go into a mutiny.”

“Not yet, my dear fellow.  You can think it over.”

“But I’m tired of this kind of a life.  I liked it first rate in the beginning.  Do you think Lowington really intends to go to sea with the ship?”

“I know he does.”

“If he don’t go pretty soon, I shall run away, and go to sea in earnest.”

“Don’t say a word about the mutiny at present, Wilton.  By and by, if things go right, or if they don’t go right, we may want to take some stock in such an enterprise.”

“I don’t see it yet, but of course I shall keep still.”

It is doubtful whether even so daring a young man as Shuffles, who had the temerity to do almost anything, seriously contemplated getting up a mutiny.  Very likely his untamed and vicious imagination had revelled in such an enterprise; had pictured the delights of the rover’s life at sea; but a boy of ordinary common sense could hardly think of engaging in such a mad scheme.

The last week of June, with which month ended the first school term on board of the Young America, was devoted to examinations and reviews in all the studies for which extra marks were given.  On the last day the instructors made up the merit lists, and on the morning of the 1st of July all hands were mustered, and the result declared.  Most of the officers, all of whom had studied with unremitting diligence in order to retain their positions, were reinstated in their offices.  The third lieutenant, however, fell out, having failed in his reviews, and to the astonishment of all, Robert Shuffles was found to be entitled to the place.  The first and second lieutenants exchanged ranks, and Paul Kendall fell to the position of second master.  Three of the tenants of the after cabin were compelled to move into the steerage, and three of the crew were transferred to the officers’ quarters.

Many were disappointed, and perhaps some were disheartened, for the competition had been a severe struggle; and as much depended upon natural ability as upon energy and perseverance.  But the Young America was a world by herself.  She had all the elements of society within her wooden walls, and success and failure there followed the same rules as in the great world of which she was an epitome.