In his left
hand the discipline officer carried an electric pocket light.
A pressure of a button would supply a beam of electric light
that would explore the bed of either midshipman supposed to be
in this room.
But the officer saw Midshipman Darrin plainly enough, thanks to
beams of light from the corridor. Over in the opposite alcove
the discipline officer made out, more vaguely, the lay figure
and the doughface intended to represent Midshipman Dan Dalzell.
"Both in. Darrin and Dalzell never give us any trouble, at any
rate," thought the discipline officer to himself, then closed the
door, and his footsteps sounded further down the corridor.
"Oh, Danny boy, I wish I had you here right at this minute!" muttered
Dave Darrin vengefully. "Maybe I wouldn't whang your head off
for the fright that you've given me! I'll wager half of my hairs
have turned gray in the last minute!"
However, Midshipman Dan Dalzell was not there, as Darrin knew
to his own consternation. Dave did not go to sleep. Well enough
he knew that he was on duty indefinitely through the hours until
Dan should return. If Midshipman Darrin fell into a doze this
night he would be as bad as any sentry falling asleep on any other
post.
So Darrin lay there and fidgeted. Twenty times he tried to solve,
in his own mind, the riddle of why Dalzell should be away, and where
he was. But it was a hopeless puzzle.
"Of course, Danny didn't hint that he was going to French it tonight,"
thought Dave bitterly.
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