So, though Darrin went out, he resolved not to remain long away from his moody chum.

Outside, on one of the cement walks, Dave turned toward Flirtation Walk.

It seemed the best surrounding in which to think of Belle.

"Mr. Darrin!" called a voice.

Dave turned, to behold Mr. Treadwell coming at a fast stride with a scowl on his face.

"That was a dirty trick you played me last night, Mr. Darrin!" cried the first cla.s.sman angrily.

"What?" gasped Dave, astonished, for this was not in line with the usual conversation of midshipmen.

"You know well enough what I mean," cried Treadwell angrily. "You spiked my only chance to dance with Miss Meade."

"You're wrong there," retorted Dave coldly and truthfully "I didn't."

"Then how did it happen?"

"I can't discuss that with you," Darrin rejoined. "I didn't make any effort, though, to spoil your chance of a dance with the young lady."

"Mr. Darrin, I don't choose to believe you, sir!"

Dave's face went crimson, then pale.

"Do you realize what you're saying, Mr. Treadwell?"

"Of course"--sneeringly.

"Are you trying to pick trouble with me?" demanded Dave, his eyes flashing with spirit.

"I repeat that I don't choose to believe your explanation, sir."

"Then you pa.s.s me the lie?"

"As you prefer to consider it," jeered the first cla.s.sman.

"Oh, very good, then, Mr. Treadwell," retorted Dave, eyeing the first cla.s.sman and sizing him up.

Treadwell was one of the biggest men, physically, in the brigade. He was also one of the noted fighters of his cla.s.s. Beside Treadwell, Midshipman Darrin did not size up at all advantageously.

"If you do not retract what you just said," pursued Dave Darrin, growing cooler now that he realized the deliberate nature of the affront that had been put upon him, "I shall have no choice but to send my friends to you."

"Delighted to see them, at any time," replied the first cla.s.sman, turning disdainfully upon his heel and strolling away.

"Now, why on earth does that fellow deliberately pick a fight with me?"

wondered Darrin, as he strolled along by himself. "Treadwell can thump me. He can knock me clean down the Bay and into the Atlantic Ocean, but what credit is there in it for a first cla.s.sman to thrash a youngster?"

It was too big a puzzle. After thinking it over for some time Dave turned and strolled back to Bancroft Hall.

"You didn't stay out long!" remarked Dan, looking up with a weary smile as his chum re-entered their room.

"No," admitted Dave. "There wasn't much fun in being out alone."

With a sigh, Dan turned back to his book, while Dave seated himself at his own study table, in a brown daze.

Things were happening fast--Dan's impending "bilge" from the Naval Academy, and his own coming fight with the first cla.s.sman who would be sure to make it a "blood fight"!

CHAPTER XVI

HOW DAN FACED THE BOARD

"We trust, Mr. Dalzell, that you can make some statement or explanation that will show that we shall be justified in retaining you as a midshipman in the Naval Academy."

It was the superintendent of the United States Naval Academy who was speaking.

Dan's hour of great ordeal had come upon him. That young midshipman found himself in the Board Room, facing the entire Academic Board, trying to remember what Freeman had told him the night before.

The time was 10.30 a.m. on that fateful Monday.

Midshipman Dalzell appeared to be collected, but he was also very certainly white-faced.

Many a young man, doomed to be sent forth from a Naval career, back into the busy, unheeding world, had faced this Board in times past. So it was hardly to be expected that Dan would inspire any unusual interest in the members of the Board.

Dan swallowed at something hard in his throat, then opened his lips to speak.

"I am aware, sir, and gentlemen, that I am at present sufficiently deficient in my studies to warrant my being dropped," Dan began rather slowly. "Yet I would call attention to the fact that I was nearly as badly off, in the matter of markings, at this time last year. It is also a matter of record that I pulled myself together, later on, and contrived to get through the first year with a considerable margin of credits to spare. If I am permitted to finish the present term here I believe I can almost positively promise that I will round out this year with as good a showing as I did last year."

"You have thought the matter carefully out in making this statement, have you, Mr. Dalzell?" asked the superintendent.

"I have, sir."

"Have you any explanation to offer for falling below the standards so far this year, Mr. Dalzell?"

"I believe, sir, that I make a much slower start, with new studies, than most of my cla.s.smates," Dan continued, speaking more rapidly now, but in a most respectful manner. "Once I begin to catch the full drift of new studies I believe that I will overtake some of my cla.s.smates who showed a keener comprehension at the first. I think, sir, and gentlemen, that my record, as contrasted with the records of some of my cla.s.smates who achieved about the same standing I did for last year will bear my statement out."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Have You Any Explanation to Offer, Mr. Dalzell?"]

The superintendent turned to a printed pamphlet in which were set forth the records of the midshipmen for the year before.

"Mr. Dalzell," asked another member of the Board, "do you feel that you are really suited for the life of the Navy? Is it your highest ambition to become an officer of the Navy?"

"It's my only ambition, sir, in the way of a career," Dan answered solemnly. "As to my being suited for the Navy, sir, I can't make a good answer to that. But I most earnestly hope that I shall have an opportunity, for the present, to try to keep myself in the service."

"And you feel convinced that you need only to be carried for the balance of the term to enable you to make good, and to justify any action that we may take looking to that end?" asked another member of the Board.