At some of the other tables equal silence did not prevail. Midshipmen who did not accuse or suspect Jetson of intentional wickedness expressed the opinion that he was, at all events, careless and not a valuable member of the football squad.

Jetson himself was wholly aware that he was more or less suspected in the minds of many, and the knowledge made him savage.

During the few minutes recreation that followed the evening meal, Dan Dalzell approached the sullen one, who was now standing quite alone.

"Mr. Jetson, I shall be glad to have a talk with you," announced Dan.

"Will you come to my room, or shall I go to yours?"

"Lead the way to your room, sir," replied Jetson stiffly.

Dan did so, and behind the door the two midshipmen faced each other.

"Well, sir!" demanded the visitor.

"Mr. Jetson, both times that you have played against Darrin something has happened to him."

"Don't insinuate, Mr. Dalzell. If you anything to say, speak out plainly, sir."

"I hardly know what to say," Midshipman Dan confessed. "As a midshipman, your honor should be above question."

"Do you wish to remark that it isn't?"

"Why, I don't know," Dan answered frankly. "It seems a fearful thing to say, or even to think, about a midshipman."

"Mr. Dalzell, either I did, or I didn't, intentionally injure Mr. Darrin.

Yon must think one thing or the other. If you suspect that I did the thing intentionally, then why beat about the bush?"

"I don't want to beat about the bush, and, on the other hand, I don't want to do you any injustice, Mr. Jetson, I thought perhaps you would be willing to help me out by proffering your midshipman's word of honor--"

"And I," rejoined Jetson in cold anger, "consider it insulting, sir, that I should be asked to pledge my word of honor."

"That is an extreme position to take," protested Dan. "No good man, when appearances are against him, should be afraid to offer his word of honor."

"Suppose," sneered Jetson, in suppressed fury, "I should go to the other extreme, and say that I did it on purpose?"

"Then I'd knock you down, like a dog," Dan answered directly and simply, "and next call on the men here to drive you forth from the brigade."

"If you think you could knock me down," quivered Midshipman Jetson, "you'd better go ahead and find out whether your guess is correct.

Dalzell, you've been highly insulting, and I don't mind declaring that a fight with you would suit me, at present, better than anything that I can think of."

"Then you have your recourse, in a challenge," Dan hinted promptly.

"What's the need of a challenge, seconds--or of anything but fists? I don't need them."

"The brigade claims some supervision over fights between the men here,"

Dan replied. "I intend to demand that the cla.s.s take up, as a cla.s.s matter, the mishap to Darrin this afternoon."

"You--you hound!" panted Jetson, in a sudden flare-up of anger.

"Careful!" warned Dalzell, clenching his fists and facing his man squarely.

With a snort of rage Jetson launched himself forward, aiming two blows at Dan.

Dan parried the blows coolly, but his eyes flashed.

He had not lost control of himself, but he was warming up to the instinct of fighting when no other course seemed open.

CHAPTER IX

A NARROW SQUEAK WITH THE O.C.

Jetson's next blow grazed Midshipman Dalzell's chin. The follow-up blow landed on Dan's left ear.

Now Dalzell "sailed in" in earnest. He attacked forcefully and swiftly.

Jetson was forced to give ground. Dan pursued him around the room. Being no coward, Jetson stood well up to the work, driving in for himself at least two out of every five blows that were landed.

Rap-tap-tap! sounded on the door, but neither combatant heard.

Smash! Dan's forceful right landed on Jetson's neck, sending that midshipman to the floor, whereupon Dalzell sprang back three paces.

"Take your time getting on to your feet," called Dan in a low voice.

"I don't want any time," snapped Jetson, leaping to his feet.

The words of both speakers were heard at the door, and the visitor who had knocked now promptly entered.

Fortunate it was for the combatants facing each other that the intruder was not one of the discipline officers. Had it been, both midshipmen would have been reported at once under charges that would have borne serious results.

Instead, it was Farley who entered, followed by Page, Hepson and Joyce.

"Wow!" uttered Midshipman Farley in a low voice. Then: "Stop this, fellows!"

At the order, which Dan knew to be intended for his own good, the latter turned away, letting his hands fall. Jetson, on the point of a rush, realized that he had better desist.

"Joyce, you stand outside," ordered Farley in a low voice. "Stand right at the door. If you see the O.C. (officer in charge) turning into this corridor, you rap as hard as you can on the door, and we'll understand."

Midshipman Joyce wanted most badly to be a spectator to what was likely to happen on the inner side of the door, but he had the good sense to realize that some one must do guard duty, so he stepped outside, closing the door after him.

"Now, gentlemen, what's this all about?" demanded Hepson in a low, smooth voice.

"It means," cried Jetson pa.s.sionately, "that I'm not going to stand any more of this petty persecution. Everyone has been trying to pretend that he believes I've been trying to do Darrin up so that he can't play on the Navy football team. It's all just a mean scheme to keep me from making the Navy eleven."

"There's no such scheme afloat, or I'd know about it," returned Hepson coolly. "Fact is, there isn't any intention whatever of playing you on the Navy team."