"And you're going to throw yourself away on such thankless missionary work, Darry?"

"Not at all. I'm acting on my best lights, as I see them for myself."

"I'm sorry," sighed Farley honestly.

"And so am I. Don't believe that I enjoy the situation that has been created."

"That you've created for yourself, you mean!"

"I see that you can't or you won't, understand it, Farley."

"I wish I could understand it!" quivered Farley, who felt far more unhappy than he was willing that Dave should see. In the end, Farley returned to his own room, pondering deeply and trying to think out some plan of speech or of action that would save Midshipman Dave Darrin from the cla.s.s anger that seemed certain to come.

After supper and just before study time was due, Dave went to Jetson's door and knocked. As he entered he found Warner, the other midshipman quartered there, as well as Jetson.

"Good evening, gentlemen," began Dave, after he had stepped into the room and closed the door.

"Good evening, Darrin," responded Warner, while Jetson merely scowled and picked up a book.

"Warner," went on Dave, "I came here to have a brief talk with Mr.

Jetson. Would it be asking too much to ask you to step outside--unless Mr. Jetson feels that he would prefer that you remain?"

"Mr. Jetson prefers that Mr. Warner remain, and that Mr. Darrin take himself away with great expedition," broke in Jetson decisively.

But Warner thought differently, and, with a murmured "certainly, Darrin,"

he left the room.

"I won't ask you to take a seat, Mr. Darrin," said Jetson, "because I'll be candid enough to say that I hope you won't remain long."

"I don't need a seat," laughed Dave easily, "for I've heard that the best Americans transact their business on their feet. Mr. Jetson, I've come on a somewhat embarra.s.sing mission."

"Yes?"--sneeringly.

"You know quite well the snarl that is to be untied before the cla.s.s meeting Friday evening."

"Quite well," replied Jetson sulkily. "It is a situation that I owe to the fact of having been acquainted with yourself, Mr. Darrin."

"Jetson," resumed Dave, dropping the formal "Mr.", "the situation is one that menaces you and your standing here. It menaces me equally. I could get myself out of the sc.r.a.pe quite easily by withdrawing from the stand that I took the other night."

"I either fail or refuse to understand why you went to the risk that you did the other night, Mr. Darrin."

"If I were to retract what I said," Darrin added, "it would cause me to violate whatever respect I may have for right and justice. On the other hand, Jetson, surely you do not consider yourself right in refusing an apology for a remark in which you thoughtlessly cast an unjust reflection upon the whole body of midshipmen."

"To what is this leading, Mr. Darrin?"

"Jetson, your own sense of honor and justice surely tells you that you owe it to yourself to go before the meeting Friday evening--"

"I shall not attend, Mr. Darrin. The cla.s.s may take whatever action it chooses in my absence."

"Jetson, you owe it to yourself, as well as to the cla.s.s, to offer your apology for a remark that reflected upon the whole brigade. You can violate no feeling of honor or proper pride by such an apology. In fact, I do not see how you can justify yourself in withholding such apology for having expressed a sentiment which you know you did not mean in the way that the brigade has taken it."

"My feelings on questions of honor cannot possibly concern you, Mr. Darrin."

"On the contrary, your conduct does vitally concern me, Jetson. If you do not make your apology the cla.s.s will--well, you know what will happen."

"Yes, I know," Jetson a.s.sented, his brow darkening.

"And possibly you know what it means to me. By my own statement--and I cannot, in honor retract it, I shall be compelled to share Coventry with you."

"No, you won't sir!" retorted Jetson, rising, his face ablaze with sulky anger. "You may go to Coventry, Mr. Darrin, and welcome, but you shall not share mine with me. You shall not share anything whatever with me--not even the air of this room if I can prevail upon you to take yourself out of a room where you are not wanted. Mr. Darrin, I indulge myself in the honor of wishing you--good evening!"

Jetson crossed the room, threw open the door and bowed low. Flushing, breathing quickly, Dave Darrin stepped out into the corridor and the door closed smartly behind him.

CHAPTER XXI

MIDSHIPMAN JETSON HAS THE FLOOR

It was Friday afternoon, and the last sections had been dismissed in front of Bancroft Hall. The balance of the afternoon belonged to the midshipmen, though most of them found it necessary to give the time to study.

Jetson was not one of the latter. Always well up in his studies, he had no occasion to worry about daily markings or semi-annual examinations.

He had not grown less sulky, but he found himself a victim of unusual restlessness. So he decided upon remaining out in the open air for the present.

Though actuated by a very different cla.s.s of feelings, Darrin, also, felt disinclined for books. He tried to study, for a few minutes, but gave it up and caught up his cap. The winter day being mild, he did not trouble himself to don his uniform overcoat.

"Going to slip your cable?" inquired Dan, who was moored fast to a text-book.

"Yes; I feel the need of fresh air."

"Shove off, then!"

Dave went out quietly, Dan gazing curiously after his friend until the door had closed behind him.

"Poor chap," muttered Dan. "I reckon he has need enough of something to stop that restless feeling. The cla.s.s meets to-night!"

Jetson, after some fifteen minutes of aimless wandering, felt himself attracted to the gymnasium. Going inside, he went to his locker, where, with feverish energy, he changed to gym costume.

For a few minutes the sulky one performed on the flying rings. He was an adept at this work, and something in the rapid motion soothed his troubled mind.

Tiring of the rings at last, Jetson stood with folded arms, looking about him, until his eyes lighted with interest on the trapezes. One was up higher than the rest. Drawn toward this one, Jetson took hold of the climbing rope and drew himself up, hand over hand. Seating himself on the bar, he sat looking about at the few other midshipmen who were exercising at that hour.

"There comes that Darrin fellow," thought Jetson, with a sudden burst of rage. "Wonder if he's going to work this afternoon? If he does, I'll put it all over him, even if I break my neck in the trying."

Back and forth swung Jetson, getting up speed on the trapeze. Then, suddenly, he threw his head downward, hanging on by his knees. An intentional slip, and he hung fully downward his ankles holding at the ends of the crossbar.