MIDSHIPMAN PENNINGTON'S ACCIDENT The stop at the Azores was uneventful.

It remained in the minds of the midshipmen only as a pleasant recollection of a quaint and pretty place.
Once more the squadron set sail, and now the homeward-bound pennant was flying.

The course lay straight across the Atlantic to the entrance of Chesapeake Bay.
On the second night out the wind was blowing a little less than half a gale.
Darkness had fallen when Dave, Dan, Farley and several other midshipmen gathered to talk in low tones at the stern rail.
Presently all of them wandered away but Dave.

He stood close to the rail, enjoying the bumping motion every time the descending stern hit one of the rolling waves.
Presently, thinking he saw a light astern, he raised himself, peering astern.
Another group of restless middies had sauntered up.

Pennington, after a swift look at the pacing officer in charge here, and discovering that the officer's back was turned, executed a series of swift cartwheels.
"Look out, Pen!" called Midshipman Dwight, in a low, though sharp voice.
Just too late the warning came.
As Pen leaped to his feet after the last turn, one of his hands struck Darrin forcefully.
Dave swayed, tried to clutch at something, then-- "O-o-o-oh!" rang the first startled chorus.
Then, instantly, on top of it, came the rousing hail: "Man overboard--astern!" Farley and Hallam were the first to reach the rail.