"Did you hear that Ella had a bad tumble down three stories?" askedMidshipman Dan.
"Ella who?" questioned Dave, looking up.
"Elevator!" grinned Dalzell.
"Ugh!" grunted Dave disgustedly. "Say, do you know how that would strike the com.?"
"No," replied Dan innocently, looking away. "How would it strike him?"
"Hard!" Dave responded. Slam! The somewhat heavy book that Darrin, aimed went straight to the mark, landing against Dan's nearer ear with all the force of a sound boxing.
"I see you appreciate a good joke," muttered Dalzell grimly.
"Yes," Dave admitted. "Do you?"
"When I tell you another," growled Dan, "I'll be holding an axe hidden behind my back."
"Say, did I show you that letter of Dick's?" Dave asked, looking up presently.
"Appendix?" inquired Dan suspiciously.
"Oh, stow all that, little boy!" retorted Dave. "No; did I tell you thatI had a letter from Dick Prescott?"
"I think you mentioned something of the sort, last winter," Dalzell admitted still suspicious.
"No; I got one this morning from good old Dick," Darrin went on.
"All right," Dan agreed. "What's the answer?"
"I haven't had time to read it yet," Darrin responded. "But here's the letter. Maybe you'd like to look it over."
Across the study table Dan Dalzell received the envelope and its enclosure rather gingerly. Dan didn't like to be caught "biting" at a "sell," and he still expected some trick from his roommate.
It was, however, a letter written in Dick Prescott's well-remembered handwriting.
"I understand that you are both on the Navy team, and that you made good in the first game," wrote the West Point cadet. "I hope you'll both stay in to the finish, and improve with every game. Greg and I are plugging hard at the game in the little time that the West Point routine allows us for practice. From what I have heard of your game, I think it likely that you and good, but impish old Dan, are playing against the very position that Greg and I hope to hold in the annual Army-Navy game. Won't it be great?"
"Yes, it will be great, all right, if the Navy contrives to win," Dan muttered, looking up at his chum.
"Either the Army or Navy must lose," replied Dave quietly.
"And just think!" Cadet Dick Prescott's letter ran on. "When we meet, lined up for battle on Franklin Field, Philadelphia, it will be the first time we four have met since we wound up the good old High School days at Gridley. It seems an age to Greg and me. I wonder if the time seems as long to you two?"
"It seems to me," remarked Dan, glancing across at his chum, "that you and I, David, little giant, have been here at Annapolis almost ever since we first donned trousers to please the family."
"It is a long time back to Gridley days," assented Darrin.
Then Dan went on reading.
"Of course you and Dan are bound that the Navy shall win this year," Dick had written. "As for Greg and me, we are equally determined that the Army shall win. As if the resolutions on either side had much of anything to do with it! It will seem strange for us four, divided between the two sides, to be fighting frantically for the victory. However, if Greg and I go up against you two on the gridiron we won't show you any mercy, and we know that we shall receive none from you. Each man must do all that's possibly in him for the glory of his own side of the United Service! Here's to the better eleven—Army or Navy!"
"I'll bet Dick and Greg will give us all the tussle they know how, if they get near us in the fight," nodded Dan, passing the letter back.
"Well, they're bound to, aren't they?" demanded Darrin. "And now, Danny boy, we simply must stow all gab and get busy with our lessons. We've a recitation between now and the afternoon practice."
"And the game, to-morrow!" breathed Midshipman Dalzell fervently.
The morrow's game was to be against the University of Pennsylvania eleven. The opposition team being an unusually good one that year, the Navy's gridiron pets were preparing to strain every nerve in the hope of victory.
In that afternoon's practice Dave and Dan showed up better than ever.Farley and Page, too, were coming along splendidly, while MidshipmanJoyce was proving himself all but a joy to exacting Hepson.
But when the morrow came U.P. carried away the game to the tune of five to nothing, and the Navy goat wept. Dave and Dan made several brilliant plays, but the Navy average both of size and skill was somewhat below that of the older, bigger college men.
Other games followed fast now, and the Navy eleven and its subs. had plenty of work cut out for them. Up to the time of the Army-Navy game, the middies had a bright slate of eighty per cent. of victories. Dave and Dan had the pleasure of reading, in the "Army and Navy Journal," that they were considered the strongest men on the left flank that the Navy had been, able to show in ten years.
"When we go up against the Army," Hepson informed Dave and Dan, "I don't know whether you'll play at left or right. It will all depend on where the Army puts Prescott and Holmes. Friends of ours who have watched the play at West Point tell me that Prescott and Holmes are armored terrors on the gridiron."
"They are, if they've gone forward in the game, instead of backward,"Darrin replied honestly.
"But you and Dalzell can hold 'em, can't you?" demanded Hepson anxiously.
"I don't dare brag," Dave answered. "The truth, if anything, is that Danny boy and I can hardly hope to hold the Army pair back. You see, Hep, I know Prescott and Holmes pretty well, from the fact that we played together on the same High School eleven for two years. Prescott, in fact, was the boy who trained us all."
"Well, don't let the Navy fellows get the idea that you're afraid of that Army pair," begged Hepson. "It might get our men discouraged. Darry, we simply must wipe up the field with the Army! There isn't—there can't be any such word as 'defeat' for us."
As the time drew near for the greatest of all annual games the instructors at the Naval Academy began to record lower marks for nearly all of the men in the daily recitations. The midshipmen simply couldn't keep their minds from wandering to the gridiron. It meant so much—to beat the Army!
Then quickly enough the feverish day came. Early in the forenoon the entire brigade of midshipmen, in uniform, was marched into town behind the Naval Academy band. Scores of Navy officers, with their ladies, went along. A lot of the townspeople followed in the big rush to Odenton and Baltimore. From there two sections of a special train conveyed the Annapolis host to Philadelphia.
Franklin Field was reached, and one of the most brilliant athletic and social events of the year was on.
We shall not attempt to follow the course of the game here. The Navy eleven hurled itself into the fray with undying heroism, but the Army won the great game. It is all told in the third volume of "THE WEST POINT SERIES," entitled "DICK PRESSCOTT'S THIRD YEAR AT WEST POINT." In that volume, too, is described the meeting of the old-time High School chums, their first meeting since the old-time days back in the tome town of Gridley.
The game was over at last. The Navy was crestfallen, though not a sign of sorrow or humiliation showed in the jaunty step of the men of the brigade as they marched back to the railway station and took the train for the first stage of the journey home—the run between Philadelphia and Baltimore.
On the train Hepson hunted up Dave and Dan.
"You did your best, fellows, I know, that," murmured the defeated football captain. "And you gave me, in advance, a fair estimate of that Army pair, Prescott and Holmes. Say, but they're a pair of terrors! If we had that pair on the Navy eleven, along with you two, no team that the Army ever yet sent out could beat us. But we made a strong fight, at any rate. All of our friends say that."
"I'm glad I didn't do any bragging in advance," Darrin smiled wistfully."We were fairly eaten up, Hep."
"Oh, well, we'll hope for better luck next year, with the Navy under some other captain. Maybe you'll be captain next year, Darry."
"I don't want to be," Dave answered, with a shake of his head. "If you couldn't carry our team to victory I don't dare try."
"Then I'll be captain—if I'm asked," promised Dan, with the grin that always lurked close to the surface of his face. While hundreds of midshipmen felt desperately blue on the homeward journey, Dalzell had already nearly forgotten his disappointment.
"You'll never be asked," predicted Hepson good-humoredly. "Danny boy, the trouble with you would be that the fellows would never know when you were in earnest. As captain of the eleven, you might start to give an order, and then nothing but a pun would come forth. You're too full of mischief to win victories."
"I hope that won't be true if I ever have the luck to command a battleship in war time," sighed Dalzell, becoming serious for four or five seconds. Then he bent forward and dropped a cold nickel inside of Joyce's collar. The cold coin coursed down Joyce's spine? causing that tired and discouraged midshipman to jump up with a yell.
"Why does the com. ever allow that five-year-old imp to travel with men?" grunted Joyce disgustedly, as he sat down again and now realized that the nickel was under him next to the skin.
"Danny boy," groaned Dave, "will you ever grow up? Why do you go on making a pest of yourself?"
"Why, the fellows need some cheering up, don't they?" Dan inquired.
"If you don't look out, Danny boy, you'll rouse them to such a pitch of cheerfulness that they'll raise one of the car windows and drop you outside for sheer joy."
The joy that had been manifest in Annapolis that morning was utterly stilled when the brigade reached the home town once more. True, the band played as a matter of duty, but as the midshipmen marched down Maryland Avenue in brigade formation they passed many a heap of faggots and many a tar-barrel that had been placed there by the boys of the town to kindle into bonfires with which to welcome the returning victors. But to-night the faggot-piles and the tar-barrels lay unlighted. In the dark this material for bonfires that never were lighted looked like so many spectral reminders of their recent defeat.
It hurt! It always hurts—either the cadets or the midshipmen—to lose the Army-Navy game.
Once back at quarters in Bancroft Hall, it seemed to many of the midshipmen as though it would have been a relief to have to go to study tables to work. Yet, since no work was actually required on this night, none was done.
Midshipmen wandered about in their own rooms and visited. The more they realized the defeat, the bluer they became. From some rooms came sounds of laughter, but it was hollow.
Farley got out a banjo, breaking into a lively darky reel. Yet, somehow, the sound was mournful.
"Please stop that dirge and play something cheerful!" begged the voice of a passing midshipman.
"Put the lyre away, Farl," advised Page. "Nothing sounds happy to-night."
"We love to sing and dance. We're happy all the day—ha, ha!" wailed Dan Dalzell. He wasn't so very blue himself, but he was trying to keep in sympathy with the general tone of feeling.
"Well, Hep, you made as good a showing, after all, as could be expected with a dub team," spoke Joyce consolingly, when they met in a corridor.
"It wasn't a dub team," retorted Hepson dismally. "The eleven was all right. The only trouble lay in having a dub for a captain."
It was a relief to hundreds that night when taps sounded at last, and the master switch turned off the lights in midshipmen quarters. At least the young men were healthy and did not waste hours in wooing sleep and forgetfulness.
Then Sunday morning came, and the football season was over until the next year.
"From now on it's going to be like starting life all over again, after a fire," was the way Dan put it that Sunday morning, in an effort to make some of his comrades feel that all was not lost.
Had Dan been able to foresee events which he and Dave must soon encounter, even that grinning midshipman wouldn't have been happy.
"I wish we lived in Annapolis, that we might be here at every hop!" sighed Belle Meade, as the waltz finished and she and Dave, flushed and happy, sought seats at the side of the ballroom.
They had hardly seated themselves when they were joined by Dan andLaura Bentley.
"I was just saying, Laura," Belle went on, "that it would be splendid if we lived here all through the winter. Then we'd have a chance to come to every hop."
"Wouldn't we want to put in a part of the winter near West Point?" askedMiss Bentley, smiling, though with a wistful look in her eyes.
"Perhaps that would be fairer, to you," Belle agreed.
"You'd soon get tired of the hops," ventured Dave.
"Can one ever weary of dancing?" Belle demanded. "Well, perhaps one might, though never on the small amount that has come to me so far in life. And this Navy orchestra plays so divinely!"
"Our number's next, I believe, ladies," called Midshipman Farley, as he and Page came up, eager for their chances with these two very charming belles of the hop.
"Hang you, Farl!" muttered Dave.
"That's just like Darrin, Miss Meade," laughed Farley. "He's always a monopolist at heart. Though in this instance I am far from wondering at his desire to be."
It was the first hop after the semi-annual exams. A host of fourth classmen and some from the upper classes had been dropped immediately after the examinations, but Dave and Dan and all their more intimate friends in the brigade had pulled through. Darrin and Dalzell had come out of the ordeal with the highest markings they had yet achieved at the Naval Academy.
Mrs. Meade had come down to Annapolis to chaperon Belle and Laura, but this evening Mrs. Meade was chatting with a middle-aged Naval officer and so did not see much of the young people.
As the music struck up, Farley and Page claimed consideration, Dave andDan were left without partners.
"Nothing more doing for two dances, David, little giant," murmured Midshipman Dalzell. "Suppose we slip into our overcoats and walk around outside."
"I'd rather," assented Darrin. "It's dull in here when a fellow isn't dancing."
It was a night of unusually light attendance on the part of the fair sex, with a rather larger attendance than usual of midshipmen, for which reason Dave found many other midshipmen outside, strolling up and down.
"What we need, fellows," called Joyce, coming up to the chums, "is a new regulation that no midshipman may attend a hop unless he drags a femme."
"That would have shut you out of every hop so far this year," laughed Dave.
"I know it," Joyce admitted. "But I'm going to cut all hops after this, unless some real queen will favor me as her escort and agree to dance at least half the numbers with me. I've had only two dances this evening. It's too tame. I'm going back to Bancroft Hall and stand ready to turn in at the first signal. What's the use of hanging around at a hop when there's only one girl to every five fellows?"
"You have suffered the just fate of the free lance," remarked Dan Dalzell virtuously. "As for me, I never think of attending a hop unless I squire some femme thither."
"There used to be girls enough last year," complained Joyce. "Well, I'm off for home and bed."
"We'll stroll along up with you," proposed Darrin.
"No girls for you, either?"
"Not for two numbers. Then we return to the young ladies that we escorted here."
"Just to think," grunted Joyce, sniffing in the salt air that reached them from the waterfront, "a good deal more than a year more here before we get regularly at sea."
"It seems as though we'd been here a long time," sighed Dave. "But I don't suppose there was ever a midshipman yet who didn't long to get away from Annapolis and into the real, permanent life on the wave. A West Point man must feel some of the same longing."
"But he's on the land at West Point," objected Joyce, "and he's still on land after he graduates and goes to some post. The Army cadet has no such glorious future to look forward to as has a midshipman."
"Hello, here's Jet," called Dave as a midshipman enveloped in his overcoat approached them. "Going to the hop, Jet?"
"Will you do me a great favor?" asked Midshipman Jetson.
"Certainly, if possible," agreed Dave cordially.
"Then mind your own business," snapped the other midshipman.
Darrin, who had made it a point to forget the brief unpleasantness of the football season, received this rebuke with about the same feelings that a slap in the face would have given him.
The sulky midshipman had stepped past the trio, but Dave, after swallowing hard, wheeled about and hailed:
"Hold on, there, Mr. Jetson!"
"Well?" demanded Jetson, halting and looking back.
"I don't like your tone, sir."
"And I don't like your face, sir," retorted Jetson. "Nor your cheek, either, for that matter."
"I tried to treat you pleasantly," Dave went on, hurt and offended.
"Oh! It required an effort, did it?" sneered Jetson.
"Something may have happened that I don't know anything about," Darrin continued. "It may be that you have some real reason for treating me as you have just done. If you have any good reason I wish you'd tell me, for in that case I must have done something that put me in wrong. If that's the case, I want to make amends."
"Oh—bosh!" grumbled the other midshipman.
"Come on, now!" urged Dave. "Be a man!"
"Then you imply that I am not?" demanded Jetson aggressively.
"Not necessarily," Dave contended. "I just want to make sure, in my own mind, and I should think you'd be similarly interested."
"If you want to insult me, Mr. Darrin," flared back Jetson, "I'll remain here long enough to hear you and to arrange for resenting the insult. Otherwise—"
"Well?" insisted Dave quietly, though his anger was rising. "Otherwise?"
"Otherwise," retorted Midshipman Jetson, "I'll pursue my way and seek company that pleases me better."
"Look out, Jet, old hot-plate!" laughed Joyce. "You'll soon be insulting all three of us."
"I don't intend to," Jetson rejoined quickly. "My quarrel concerns onlyMr. Darrin."
"Oho!" murmured Dave. "There is a quarrel, then?"
"If you choose to pick one."
"But I don't, Mr. Jetson. Quarreling is out of my line. If I've done you any harm or any injustice I'm ready to make good by apologies and otherwise. And, if I haven't wronged you in any way, you should be equally manly and apologize for your treatment of me just now."
"Oh, bosh!" snapped Mr. Jetson once more.
"This is none of my quarrel," interposed Midshipman Joyce, "and I'm not intentionally a promoter of hard feeling. But it seems to me, Jet, that Darry has spoken as fairly as any fellow could. Now, it seems to me that it's up to you to be equally manly."
"So you, too, are asserting that I'm not manly," bristled Mr. Jetson haughtily. "You all seem bound to force trouble on me to-night."
"Not I, then," retorted Joyce, his spirit rising. "I'm finding myself forced to the belief that you're hardly worth having trouble with."
Jetson clenched his fists, taking a step forward, his dark eyes flashing. Then he halted, as though implying that he was not thus easily to be driven into forgetting himself.
"Come along, fellows," urged Dan Dalzell in a low voice. "Mr. Jetson seems to have no intention either of explaining or of affording other satisfaction."
"Hold on, Mr. Jetson, you needn't answer him," interposed Darrin quickly, as Jetson opened his mouth. "First of all this affair seems to concern me. You've intimated that I'm no friend of yours and not worthy to be ranked as such. Now, I ask you, fairly and flatly, what has brought your mind to this pitch? What have I done, or what haven't I done?"
"Search your conscience," jeered Jetson.
"I've been doing so ever since this foolish conversation started, and I haven't found the answer yet. All I recall, Jetson, is that, at the outset of my football practice, there was some little unpleasantness between us. You injured me, twice, in practice play, and I admit that I was somewhat angry about it at the time. But you gave your word that you hadn't intended any tricks against me. I believed you to be a man of honor, and I accepted your word that you were innocent of evil intention against me. Having accepted your word, I held no further grudge in the matter, and I have as nearly forgotten the whole business as a man with a memory can."
"Then tell me why I didn't play on the football eleven?" flamed upMidshipman Jetson.
"Principally, I imagine, because Captain Hepson, after consultation with the coaches, didn't call you to the Navy eleven."
"And why didn't Hepson call me?" followed up Jetson, all his pent-up sulkiness boiling over now.
"I don't know, particularly. Probably, I imagine, for the same reason that he didn't call a lot of other men to the eleven—because he believed he could make a better choice."
"Darrin, you know well enough that you so influenced Hepson to keep me off the team!"
"Jetson, are you mad?"
"No; but I'm naturally angry."
"I give you my word that I didn't do anything to prevent your making the team."
"And you expect me, Mr. Darrin, to believe that?"
"If you decline to do so, it amounts to passing the lie. But I'll overlook that for a moment. Joyce, I think Hepson is not dancing at present. Will you return to the hop, and, if he is not dancing, will you bring him out here?"
"I don't want to see Hepson," cried Midshipman Jetson. "You're the only one I'm interested in in this matter, Mr. Darrin."
"You've virtually refused to accept my word."
"I do so refuse."
"Then you call me—"
"A liar, if you like!" snapped back Midshipman Jetson.
"Sir, do you realize—"
"I realize that you're still talking!" sneered Jetson.
"Then I won't talk any longer," replied Dave Darrin in a quiet but dangerous voice. "Since you refuse to listen even to Hepson—"
"Who's taking my name in vain?" demanded a laughing voice as a burly figure moved in between Dave and his enemy.
The new comer was Hepson, who had come upon the group unnoticed.
"Perhaps you're just in time, Hep," murmured Dave, fighting to cool down his temper. "I wanted you to prove—"
"Stop!" ejaculated Jetson angrily. In his extreme passion he threw all restraint and courtesy to the winds. "I wouldn't take the word of Hepson, or of any man in the entire brigade in this matter. Darrin has lied, and—"
"Step aside, Hep, please," urged Dave, giving the late football captain a gentle shove. "This matter can't go any further in words. Mr. Jetson, you have insulted me, and grossly. Are you capable of cooling down? Do you wish to retract?—to apologize?"
"Apologize to you—you—"
Whatever the word was, it didn't get out, for in the same instant Darrin cried warningly:
"Guard yourself!"
Midshipman Jetson threw up his hands, but Darrin's right fist landed across his offending mouth with such force as to fell the sulky midshipman flat to the earth.
Having struck the blow, Midshipman Darrin stepped back, to give his opponent an unobstructed chance to rise to his feet.
"What's this all about?" demanded Midshipman Hepson wonderingly.
"It's gone too far for talk, now," replied Dan Dalzell. "Wait until Darry has put a new head on this idiot."
Jetson took his time about getting to his feet When he did rise he didn't assume his guard at once.
"Well," asked Darrin coolly, but mockingly, "have you had all you can stand, or are you going to back up your wild, crazy statements?"
Suddenly Jetson raised one of his feet quickly, as though to kick Dave in the belt line.
"Here, stop that!" cried Hepson and Joyce in the same breath, as they sprang forward. Darrin, seeing others interfere, didn't attempt to strike back, but merely stepped aside.
That was the chance for which Jetson had been watching. His kick didn't land; he hadn't intended that it should, but Dave's surprised recoil gave the other the chance that he really wanted. Both of Jetson's fists struck on Dave's nose, drawing a flood of the crimson.
"You coward! You cur!" gasped amazed Dalzell.
"Silence, all!" ordered Hepson, speaking by virtue of being a first classman. "Jet is crazy, but he can't be expected to take up more than one affair at a time. Darry, take your time to stop the flow of blood. Then you can demand an accounting of Jetson."
"I've nothing more to say," remarked Jetson. "I was struck and I've returned the blow with interest. That ends my concern in the affair. Good night, all."
"Hold on!" ordered Hepson, bounding forward and laying a strong, detaining hand on Jetson's shoulder. "You can't slip away like that. Matters have gone so far that they'll simply have to go further. You'd put yourself wholly in the wrong by withdrawing now—especially after the slimy trick that you've played a fair opponent."
"Slimy, eh?" cried Jetson angrily. "Mr. Hepson, you and I will have to have an accounting, too!"
"Oh, just as you like," responded the first classman, shrugging his shoulders. "You'll find it a better rule, however, to stick to one affair at a time. Darry, are you in shape, now, to attend to this matter from your point of view?"
"Quite," nodded Dave, who had about succeeded in stanching the flow of blood from his injured nose. "Does Mr. Jetson desire to take his coat off or not?"
"Yes!" cried Jetson tempestuously, unbuttoning his own overcoat and tossing it to the ground. "Now, take yours off, Mr. Darrin!"
"It's off," responded Dave, tossing the garment aside. "Now, look to yourself, sir!"
The two second classmen closed in furiously. It was give and take, for a few moments. In the clinches, however, Jetson succeeded in tearing Darrin's dress coat, and also in starting the blood again so that the crimson dripped down on Dave's white shirt front.
At the end of a full minute, however, Darrin had sent his enemy to the ground, stopped in a knock-out. Both of Jetson's eyes were also closed and badly swollen.
"Joyce," asked Hepson, "will you kindly remain with Jetson and see that he is assisted to the hospital, if he needs it? It won't do for too many of us, especially Darry, to be found here by any officer who may be passing."
"I'll attend to it," nodded Midshipman Joyce, "though I'd rather perform the service for any other fellow in the brigade."
Now that the affair was over, and Dave, after inspecting the damage to his dress coat, was pulling on his overcoat, he was suddenly recalled to other responsibilities.
"Danny boy," he said ruefully, as Hepson walked away with them, "I can't very well get back to the hop soon—perhaps not at all tonight. I can't go back in this torn coat, and I may not be able to borrow another that will fit me well. Will you be good enough to hurry back and explain to Belle why I am delayed—perhaps prevented from seeing her again tonight?"
"Certainly," nodded Dalzell, turning and hastening back.
"Now, what was it all about, Darry?" asked Hepson, as he walked along with Dave.
Midshipman Darrin explained the trouble as well as he could.
"So the idiot accused you of keeping him off the football eleven!" demanded Hepson in astonishment.
"Yes; and I offered to prove, by you, that I had nothing to do with his exclusion from the team."
"Why the sole and whole reason why Jetson wasn't called to the Navy team," declared Hepson, "was because he was believed to be too awkward and too dangerous to other players. Whew, but I'm certainly sorry this thing has happened!"
"So am I," Dave confessed candidly.
"And Jet made the further fool mistake of declaring that he wouldn't accept the word of any midshipman in the brigade."
"Something of the sort."
"Why, that's a wholesale, blanket insult to the whole brigade. Darry, your class will have to take action over such a remark as that."
"Oh, Jetson uttered the remark in the heat of an exceptional temper."
"That won't save him," predicted Hepson sagely. "The insult is there and it will stick. Your class, Darry, would lose caste with the fellows here if it allowed such an insult to go."
"Well, if it gets around, I suppose some sort of action will have to be taken."
"The second class, under the circumstances, can't do much less than sendJetson to Coventry."
"Oh, that would be too much!" Dave protested generously. "Jetson has always been an honorable, square fellow in the past."
"He has always been infernally sulky and high-handed," growledMidshipman Hepson.
"A bad temper is not such an uncommon failing," smiled Dave.
"No; but there are limits to the amount of temper that a gentleman may display and still be worthy to associate with gentlemen," contended Hepson stubbornly. "It's the insult to the whole brigade that I'm thinking of. Darry, I'll wager that your class won't and can't do less than give Jetson a trip to Coventry."
[Illustration: "Take Off Your Overcoat, Mr. Darrin."]
"Oh, that would be too much—unjust!" protested Dave.
"The class will do it just the same."
"If the class mixes up in my affair, and carries it so far as to sendJetson to Coventry, I'll be hanged if I don't go there with him!" criedDarrin impulsively.
The words were out. A man of Darrin's honest nature would feel bound to stand by even that heated utterance.
"Oh, come, now, Darry, don't be so foolish over a fellow who has treated you in such fashion."
"I've said it, haven't I?" asked Dave grimly. "It would be an utter injustice, and I'm not going to see something that is my own affair distorted into an injustice that would be altogether out of proportion to Jetson's offense."
By this time the strolling pair of midshipmen had reached the entrance toBancroft Hall.
"What are you going to try to do about your dress coat, Darry?" askedHepson in an undertone. "Borrow one?"
"If I can find one that fits."
"Take my advice, then. Don't just borrow, and thereby run a chance of getting both yourself and the lender in trouble. For of course you know that one can never tell when an inspection may be made, and the man whose dress coat was gone would have to account for it. So go to the O. C., state that your coat was accidentally torn, and ask permission to borrow one in order that you may return and escort your ladies back to the hotel. Your O. C. won't raise any objection to that."
"But he might want to see the coat that I have on," grimaced Dave. "Then the O. C. would be sure to see the blood-drips on my shirt front, or the collar, at least. Then talk of a mere accident might lead to questions as to the nature of the accident."
"True," nodded Hepson. "Then get back to your room. Get out clean linen and get into it. While you're doing that I'll negotiate the loan of a dress coat that will fit. Then you can go to the O. C., after you've changed the telltale linen."
This course, accordingly, was followed. Dave changed his linen as quickly as he could, while Hepson appeared with three borrowed dress coats for a try-on. One was found to fill the bill. Resting it over a chair, Darrin slipped on his service blouse and reported to the O.C. Permission was granted to borrow a dress coat. If the officer in charge felt any suspicion or curiosity as to the nature of the accident he cleverly concealed the fact.
A good deal of time, however, had been consumed. By the time that Midshipman Dave Darrin returned to the hop the orchestra was just breaking into the strains of "Home, Sweet Home."
Dave's quick glance roved the floor and the seats. He beheld Belle Meade, seated at the side, while Farley bent over her in an inviting attitude. Darrin quickly reached the scene. Belle saw him coming, just in time to refrain from taking Farley's arm.
"You won't mind this time, will you, Farl?" Dave asked, smiling.
"I had given you up," said Belle, as they moved away together in the dance.
"Of course Dan told you what had delayed me."
"He told me you would return as soon as you could," replied Miss Meade, "but he was provokingly mysterious as to the cause of your absence."
"There was a little trouble," Dave whispered.
"Are you in trouble?" asked Belle quickly, her cheeks paling.
"No; I think not. By trouble I mean that I just took part in a fight."
"So you took the time when I am here as the most suitable occasion for a fight?" asked Belle, her color coming back and heightening.
"It isn't wise for me to explain it now, Belle," Dave told her quickly. "You won't blame me when you know. But I'd rather save it for telling when we are out of the Academy grounds."
"Oh, just as you like. Dave, we mustn't let anything spoil what's left of this last short dance of the night."
"Thank you, Belle. These dances together don't happen any too frequently."
It was when the young people were walking back to the Maryland Hotel, and Mrs. Meade had joined Dan and Laura, that Belle again asked the nature of the trouble that had deprived Darrin of three of his dances with her.
Dave told the story, briefly, adding:
"Under the midshipmen's code, the blow had to be struck when the lie was passed."
"I don't blame you for knocking the fellow down," Belle agreed indignantly. "What a worthless fellow that Mr. Jetson must be!"
"Do you know, Belle, I can't quite bring myself to believe that he is worthless?"
"His conduct shows it," argued the girl.
"At first thought it would appear so but Jetson, I believe, is only the victim of an unhappy temper that makes him suspicious and resentful. He's brave enough, and he's never been caught in a dishonorable trick."
"Except the tricks he played on you at the football practice."
"He passed his word that he intended no trick, and I have been wholly inclined to take his word in the matter."
"Dave, you must look out for this man Jetson! He's going to get you into some trouble before you're through with him," exclaimed Belle earnestly. All her instinct was aroused in the matter, for Dave Darrin's success was dearer to Belle Meade than was anything else in the world.
"There are two things that I regret very much to-night," Dave went on."One was that Jetson should provoke such a senseless dispute, and theother that I should be obliged to miss so much of your company here atAnnapolis."
"I wouldn't mind anything," Belle answered, "if I could feel sure that no more trouble would come out of this affair with Jetson."
"I don't believe there will be any disturbing outcome," Dave assured her; "unless, possibly, another fight."
"A fight is nothing," declared Belle with spirit. "You're in training to become a fighting man, and a bout or two at fistcuffs is nothing more or less than so much valuable experience. Dave, promise me something?"
"Of course, if it's anything promisable."
"You'll write me—"
"Can you doubt that, Belle?"
"And let me know exactly and truthfully if anything further comes of this," she finished.
"I'll write and tell you anything that a midshipman is at liberty to make known concerning the conduct of the brigade."
"Just what does that cover?" asked Belle.
"I can't easily answer until the something or other happens to turn up."
"At any rate, Dave, if I get a suspicion that you're withholding from me anything that I ought to know, I shall be dreadfully worried. You can't have any idea how worried I have been about you sometimes in the past."
Not much time was there for the two midshipmen to remain at the foot of the steps of the hotel Then, after hearty good nights, Dave and Dan left the ladies, whom they would not see again until the next visit.
"From one or two things that I couldn't help overhearing, I judge that Belle is greatly worried over the possibility of trouble arising from the Jetson affair," remarked Dan on the way back to the Naval Academy and quarters.
"Yes," Dave admitted.
"Pooh! How can any trouble come to you out of the matter? With Jetson it's different He declared that he wouldn't take the word of any midshipman in the brigade."
"That was spoken in the heat of temper. Jetson didn't mean it."
"Just the same, some of the fellows have heard of it already, and I shan't be surprised if our class holds a meeting and sends Jetson to Coventry—where the fellow belongs."
"If they send Jetson to Coventry," spoke Dave quietly though bluntly, "I shall go along to Coventry with him."
Dalzell halted, staring at his chum in open-mouthed wonder.
"You idiot!" blazed Dan in wrathful disgust.
Three days later the class meeting was held.
Jetson was especially impressed with the notion that he must attend, since he must appear as the accused. With one of his disposition it was quite natural that the young man should go before the class in a highly resentful mood.
After a few introductory remarks, Jetson was summoned by the class president to rise.
"Mr. Jetson," asked the class president, "do you intend to deny having made the remark imputed to you—that you would not take the word of any midshipman in the brigade!"
"I made the remark, after a measure, sir," Jetson replied. "What I said was that in a certain matter I would not take the word of any midshipman in the brigade if it went counter to my fixed belief."
"Mr. Jetson, don't you consider that, under the circumstances, that amounted to a statement of your unwillingness to accept the word of members of the brigade?"
"I should be sorry to have that construction placed on my remark, Mr. President, for I know that nearly all the men of the brigade are men with a fine sense of honor."
"Then how do you reconcile this statement with your other one?"
"Mr. President, I meant, and I still mean, that I am so certain of the truth of the charge that I made to one Darrin, that, if members of the brigade spoke differently, I would then know that they were not telling the truth."
A storm of protests went up, while one hoarse voice bellowed:
"Throw him out!"
And another called:
"Coventry!"
"Order!" commanded the class president, rapping hard with his gavel. "Mr. Jetson, it is a most serious matter to impugn the good faith and honor of the brigade. It is hardly mitigated by the fact that the words were uttered in the heat of passion, especially when, in your cooler moment, you are not inclined to retract your statement or to render it harmless. I believe, therefore, that I am in accord with the sense of this meeting of the class when I ask you if you have any retraction or apology to offer."
"For the statement, in the form in which I offered it, Mr. President, I have no retraction or apology to offer, and only such explanation as I have lately given."
"Coventry! Coventry!" came the insistent call.
"Well, then, you can send me to Coventry, you friends of Darrin, if you feel yourselves justified in doing it!" quivered Midshipman Jetson, tossing his head and glaring defiantly around the room.
"Mr. President!"
"Mr. Wentworth."
"In view of the charge, and the subsequent statements of Mr. Jetson, I feel that we have an unpleasant duty to perform. The brigade is founded and based on honor. We, the members, cannot allow that honor to be impugned by one who would otherwise be fitted to be a member of the brigade. As Mr. Jetson refuses to retract his words, and as some one must take the initiative, it is my disagreeable duty to move you, sir, that the second class decide that Mr. Jetson is no longer worthy to be of our number, and that he accordingly be sent to Coventry."
"Mr. President!"
"Mr. Page."
"Mr. President, I desire to second the motion, and this I do as regretfully as it was moved."
"Oh, go ahead and send me to Coventry, then!" Jetson blazed forth angrily. "This class appears to have been hypnotized by Darrin. But, even if you do send me to Coventry, we shall see whether your action will be potent enough to drive me from the Naval Academy!"
Waving his arms wildly in the heat of his anger, Midshipman Jetson hurried from the room, midshipmen moving aside to favor his swift exit.
Hardly had the door banged when from all parts of the room the cry went up:
"Question! question! Put the motion."
"Mr. President!"
"Mr. Darrin."
"I arise, sir, to discuss the motion. I ask the gentlemen of the class to bear with me patiently while I set forth some of the aspects of this matter as I see them.
"At the very outset, sir, I wish to make it as plain as possible that I do not seek to stand here as the apologist for Mr. Jetson. I feel very certain that he would not authorize me to take that position. What I state I am stating on my own authority purely, and therein I am only exercising my right as a member of the second class.
"I would remind you, sir, that you all know, as well as I do, that Mr. Jetson has always borne an honorable reputation in this class and in the brigade. You all know his leading traits as well as I do. Mr. Jetson is a man of quick temper and rather lasting resentments. There is a good deal of sullenness in his nature—"
"And they're not the best qualities in a man who is being trained to command!" broke in a midshipman at the rear of the room.
"As to whether Mr. Jetson will be, by graduation time, well fitted to command men," Dave answered, "is not a question that this class is called upon to pass on. That question rests with the faculty of the Naval Academy. I am trying to get you to look at this matter only from the personal and the class point of view. Doubtless you all feel that Mr. Jetson is the victim of an unhappy temper. You would punish this frame of mind. Yet I ask you, bluntly, who among you have ever tried to aid Mr. Jetson in overcoming his own peculiar style of temper? If there is one among you who has made such attempt at aid, I ask that gentleman to stand until he can be recognized."
Dave made a pause, glancing around him, but no midshipman rose.
"Now, sir," continued Dave Darrin, "if we, as a class, take hasty and unwise action, it is quite possible that we may be depriving the United States Navy of a future officer who would be most valuable to his country in time of need. Have we the right to punish when we are forced to admit that none of us has ever attempted to help Mr. Jetson to escape from the fruits of his temperament? Mr. President, how would you attempt to extinguish a fire? By fanning it? Yet, when a member of this class is smouldering in his own wrath, it is proposed to meet his sullenness by casting him out of our friendship. Do we not owe some duty to our country in this matter? Mr. Jetson is one of our capable students in this brigade, and if he be given a fair chance to graduate, he is likely to become a Naval officer of merit. Do we desire to take upon ourselves the probable smothering of such a Naval career? Mr. President, and you, gentlemen of the second class, I trust sincerely that the motion of Coventry in this case will not prevail. I feel, as I believe many of you now present feel, that we should be taking too much upon ourselves, and that we should be making a grave mistake. If the motion now before the class should be defeated, I shall then be delighted to second any other motion that has for its object the finding of some way to make Mr. Jetson feel more fully that he is one of us, that he has our full sympathy, and that we hope to see him mould his character into a form that will enable him to become a credit to the United States Navy."
As Darrin sat down there was a ripple of applause. There were many present, however, who took a sterner view of the affair. These wanted to see Jetson, and all others who might similarly offend the brigade, forced to quit the Naval service.
"Question! question!" called a score of voices at once.
"Any further remarks?" inquired the class president, glancing about.
"Mr. President!"
"Mr. Jerould."
"Mr. President," said Midshipman Jerould, "I am certain that we all appreciate the remarks of Mr. Darrin. The remarks were prompted by a generous heart, and we respect Mr. Darrin and his motives alike. But I am certain, sir, that the majority of us feel that this is an ugly business and that only stern treatment can meet the situation. I therefore trust that the motion will be at once put and passed." (Loud cries of "hear! hear!")
"Any further—"
"Mr. President!"
"Mr. Darrin."
"Mr. President, I wish I could throw my whole being and soul into this problem, in order to make it clearer, as I see it. I would even appeal, as a favor, to the class to quash this Coventry resolution, and perhaps I might be considered to have some right to ask the favor, since the whole trouble grew out of an affair between Mr. Jetson and myself. I beg of you all, classmates, to quash the motion now before the class."
"No, no, no!" came the hearty response.
"Then, Mr. President and gentlemen," went on Dave Darrin in a voice slow and grave, "speaking for myself, as an individual member, I beg to state that I cannot respect a Coventry ordered under such circumstances. In this matter I would find myself unable to respect the mandates of the class. Therefore. I beg you to send me to Coventry with Mr. Jetson!"
Blank astonishment fell over the second class. Utter indignation seized some of the midshipmen. In another moment the feeling boiled up so that a few hisses rose.
Dave Darrin was pallid, but he had no desire to recede. He had acted according to the dictates of his conscience and he had kept his word.
In that pained instant Midshipman Farley sought to save the situation. He leaped to his feet, shouting:
"Mr. President, I move that this meeting adjourn!"
"Second the motion," called Page promptly, and now there was uproar on all sides.
A motion to adjourn being always "in order," the class president put it.
"Aye!" came a thundering response.
"Contrary minded?"
"No."
The ayes appeared to have it, but the chair called for a showing of hands. Then the chair declared the class meeting adjourned.
"Hustle along with us, Darry. I want to talk with you!" sputtered Farley. He thrust an arm inside of Dave's and carried him along, Dalzell and Page following. Straight to Darrin's quarters they went.
"Now, then," demanded Farley, almost savagely, "what's the meaning of the very remarkable exhibition that you gave the class?"
"How was it remarkable?" questioned Dave.
"In your asking the class to send you to Coventry along with Jetson."
"It wasn't just to Jetson, just because he made a slip, that he should be shunned by the whole class."
"Couldn't the class decide that better than one man?" insisted Farley, his eyes gleaming.
"Without a doubt," Dave admitted. "I didn't attempt to do the deciding for the class. All I did was to try to throw my personal weight against it."
"And you compelled the class to adjourn without attending toJetson's case."
"You're wrong, there, Farl"
"Didn't you?"
"I certainly didn't."
"Darry, you knew the class wouldn't vote to send you to Coventry just because you had ventured to give your opinion. Now, the only way the class could escape from the consequences of your action was to adjourn without action on Jetson."
"It was you, Farl, who moved to adjourn."
"Just to save a lot of hot-bloods from jumping on you, Darry. They'd have done it in another minute. The motion to adjourn was the only thing we could do."
"That's just it," nodded Midshipman Page.
"But there'll have to be another meeting called right away," Farley went on. "The brigade will expect it—will have a right to demand it. A member of our class has insulted the whole brigade, and under our old traditions only the second class can administer discipline."
"Well, then," pursued Darrin calmly, "when the new meeting is held Jetson and myself can be punished, if that be the wish of the entire class."
"Darry," stormed Farley, "you've simply got to withdraw your fool remarks when the class comes together again."
"Do you expect that I'll do that?" Dave inquired.
"If you don't," retorted Farley warmly, "you won't be worth the further concern of your friends. What do you say, Danny boy?"
"From what I know of Dave Darrin," replied Dalzell, "the class will be wasting its time if it expects Darry to retract."
"But what do you want to be sent to Coventry for?" demanded Farley.
"I don't," Dave answered. "I know how it hurts. I wouldn't see any midshipman here sent to Coventry for anything except positive and undeniable dishonor. Jetson hasn't been guilty of anything worse than a mean, quick temper and a fit of sulks afterwards. That's why, with my experience here at Annapolis, if Jetson is to be sent to Coventry, I decline to be bound by the class action."
"But you can't refuse to be bound by class action," retortedFarley aghast.
"Try me and see," smiled Dave stubbornly.
"Don't be an idiot, Darry!"
"It would be a contemptible thing," Dave went on, as calmly as before. "Coventry would mean the chasing of Jetson out of the brigade. You would ruin a man for a defect of temper that some of you others don't possess in quite the same degree. Is it fair to ruin any man because he has the misfortune to have a fit of sulks? That's why I won't heed the class action if it cuts Jetson. I'll bow to him whenever I meet him. I'll talk to him if he'll let me."
"But he won't," insisted Farley triumphantly. "No such sulky fellow asJetson will let you make up to him."
"If he refuses," Dave contended, "then I can't help it. But I won't be a party to ruining the man. It would be far more to the purpose if the fellows would help the fellow to see that his sulkiness is his worst barrier here. Then a good student and naturally honorable fellow would develop into a capable Naval officer.
"That's the kind of talk for the padre" (chaplain), sniffed Farley.
"Glad you mentioned the padre," Dave retorted. "He's just the man to settle the case. Farley, I'll go with you to the padre at any time. You state one side of the case, and I'll state the other. If the padre doesn't back me, then I'll retract all I've said in open class meeting, and abide by whatever action the class may take."
"Oh, bother the padre!" snorted Farley angrily.
"All right, then," answered Dave good-humoredly. "If the class has a matter of ethics and morals that it doesn't dare submit to an expert in morals, then the class action is weak and wrong."
"There's no use talking to you, I'm afraid," sighed Farley ruefully."But if you—"
Here the call to study interrupted further discussion. Farley, shaking his head gravely, left the room, followed by Page, who was shaking his head with equal force.
"If you think you're all right, David, little giant, go ahead," remarkedDalzell as he passed to his study desk.
"I think I'm right," Dave answered. "If not, I can be made to see the light. I don't claim to know everything, but what I've done I did in an effort to see and do the right thing."
When release from study came Dalzell expected to see several members of the class drop in. To his astonishment the minutes sped by without any knock at the door.
"You've gotten yourself in badly, Dave," Dan remarked at last. "The fellows don't even think it worth while to come here and remonstrate with you."
"For which I'm thankful," Darrin smiled. "Danny boy, I'm going to bed without waiting for taps."
By morning the news of Dave's action at the class meeting was known throughout the brigade. As he strolled about for a few minutes, after breakfast, while Dan went back to his room to do some hurried study, Darrin noted that many once friendly faces were turned away from him.
"Good morning, Hepson," was Dave's greeting as his friend went by.
"Good morning," muttered Hepson, and was gone.
"Good morning, Watson," said Dave to one of his own classmates.
"'Morning,' replied that midshipman briefly, and turned away. Joyce, Page and several other second classmen were standing in a group when Dave strolled in their direction.
"Good morning, fellows," from Dave. Joyce and Page answered; some of the others merely nodded coldly. Presently all had strolled away except Joyce and Page.
"You see how it is, Darry," murmured Joyce. "You've hurt the fellows."
"Are they going to cut me after this?" Dave asked. His smile was friendly, though the look in his eyes was cool.
"No-o-o," hesitated Midshipman Joyce. "I don't believe the fellows will exactly cut you; at least, not unless the situation grows more acute. But many of the fellows are sore on you for your words last night."
"My words were only my words. My opinion doesn't have to govern anyone else, Joyce."
"But, hang it, Darry, the class doesn't want to cut you out! Can't you get that through your head?"
"The class doesn't have to cut me."
"But it will, if it puts Jetson in Coventry and you break the Coventry. That's what the fellows hate to do to you, and that's why they're all so sore at you."
"I see," nodded Dave.
"Come, now, Darry, you're going to be reasonable, aren't you?" beggedJoyce. "Don't break your friends all up with your stubbornness."
"I note that two of the fellows are talking with Jetson," continued Dave, letting his glance wander to another group.
"They have a right to," contended Joyce. "The class hasn't yet committed itself as to Jetson."
"Darry, if you don't look out," warned Page, "you'll precipitate matters. You may bring the storm down on Jetson if you test the temper and stubbornness of an offended class."
"I see that I was wrong in at least one particular," nodded Dave thoughtfully. "I shouldn't have made any remark about my intentions. I should have confined myself to a plea for Jetson. Then, if the class had gone against my view I could have ignored the class action and have taken the consequences just the same."
"Oh, hang you!" cried Page impulsively.
"Barry," begged Midshipman Joyce, resting a hand on his friend's arm, "don't do any more talking about this. Just let things quiet down."
"I'm perfectly willing to stop talking about it," agreed Dave. "In fact, since the class adjourned its meeting I haven't said a word on the subject except in answer to some other fellow's remarks."
Page and Joyce strolled away, leaving Dave by himself to think matters over. As it happened, the two second classmen with whom Jetson had been talking had now left the sulky midshipman, who, at this moment, was coming down the walk in Dave's direction.
"Good morning, Jetson," nodded Dave pleasantly, though not too cordially.
Midshipman Jetson paused a moment, looked Darrin full in the eyes, and then passed on.
"Not promising material to work with, at first," Dave told himself, laughingly.
There was no time for further thought, for it was within two or three minutes for the first formation for morning recitations. Dave ran back to his room, picked up a book and a writing pad.
"How have the fellows been treating you, chum?" asked Dalzell, looking up anxiously.
"To a most liberal dose of advice," laughed Darrin.
Dan sighed.
"Do you wish I'd take some of the advice, old fellow?"
"I don't know that I do," Dan answered slowly and with unwonted gravity for him. "I'm not one of the padre's star young men, and I don't often discourse on morality. Yet I'm inclined to believe that, when a fellow goes contrary to the spirit of the crowd, and is satisfied that he is doing so from generous and manly motives, he is pretty likely to be pursuing the right course. After a fellow has made a real effort to listen to his conscience, I don't believe he is ever wrong in following it."
"Thank you, Danny boy. That's always been the way it has struck me. I don't want to do any injustice to Jetson—or to the class, either."
"If you have to go to Coventry," announced Dalzell, giving a final brushing to his hair and fitting on his cap, "I'm going with you."
"But you don't have to, Dan! A fellow's roommate doesn't have to observe a Coventry."
"If it comes to Coventry," muttered Dalzell, "I shall invite it by speaking to Jetson, too."
Dave Darrin was aghast. He hadn't contemplated dragging Dan into such a scrape.
"There's formation now," announced Dan.
Out in front of the entrance, and along the terrace the many sections were falling in. Dan had occasion to pass the now very unpopular Jetson.
"Good morning, Jetson," was Dan's greeting.
Jetson started slightly, then replied, with a sulky frown:
"Good morning, Dalzell."
"Glad he'll speak to me," thought Dan with an inward grimace, "for I'm afraid that, before long, I'll be in the way of feeling mighty lonely a good deal of the time."
In another moment or two the sections were marching away, with the steady, rhythmic, tread peculiar to bodies of military in motion.
"I wonder how it is all going to come out?" sighed Dan, as he seated himself at his desk in the section room in the Academic Building.
"I wonder what sort of crazy or calculating grandstand play Darrin is trying to make just now?" pondered Midshipman Jetson, when informed of Dave's action at the meeting.