Then, suddenly, a light dawned on Dave. He grinned almost as
broadly as Dan Dalzell could have done.
"Come, come, now, Clairy!" chided Dave. "What on earth is the
joke---and why?"
Midshipman Clairy straightened himself, his eyes flashing and
his whole appearance one of intense dignity.
"Mr. Darrin, there is no joke about it, as you are certainly aware,
sir. And I must call your attention to the fact that it is bad
taste to address a midshipman familiarly when he is on official
duty."
"Why, hang you---" Dave broke forth utterly aghast.
"Stop, sir!" commanded Mr. Clairy, rising. "Mr. Darrin, you will
place yourself on report for strolling along the corridor with
both shoes unlaced. You will also place yourself on report for
impertinence in answering the midshipman in charge of the floor."
"But-----"
"Go at once, sir, and place yourself on report"
Dave meditated, for two or three seconds, over the advisability
of knocking Mr. Clairy down. But familiarity with the military
discipline of the Naval Academy immediately showed Darrin that
his only present course was to obey.
"I wonder who's loony now?" hummed Dave to himself, as he marched
briskly along on his way to the office of the officer in charge.
There be picked up two of the report slips, dipping a pen in ink.
First, in writing, he reported himself on the charge of having
his shoes unlaced. In the space for remarks Darrin wrote tersely:
"Untrue.
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