the hospital steward called him over one of the ship telephones,
informing him that a midshipman was suffering with an ulcerated tooth.

Dr. Mackenzie came at once, turned on a reflector light, and gazed into
Midshipman Pennington's mouth.

"Have you tried to treat this tooth yourself, in any way?" queried the
ship's surgeon.

"Yes, sir; I was so crazy with the pain, while in Annapolis, that I am
afraid I did something that will get me into trouble," replied
Pennington, with a quiver in his voice.

"What was that?" asked Dr. Mackenzie, glancing at him sharply. "Did you
try the aid of liquor?"

"Worse, I'm afraid, sir."

"Worse?"

Pennington told of his experience with the opium pipe.

"That's no good whatever for a toothache, sir," growled Dr. Mackenzie.
"Besides, it's a serious breach of discipline. I shall have to report
you, Mr. Pennington."

"I expected it, sir," replied Pennington meekly.

"However, the report won't cure your toothache," continued Dr. Mackenzie
in a milder tone. "We'll attend to that first."