"Hello," hailed Midshipman Dalzell, looking up as his chum entered.
"Why, Darry, you're angry---really angry. Who has dared throw
spitballs at you?"
"Quit your joking, Dan!" returned Dave Darrin, his voice quivering.
"Clairy is hunting real trouble, I imagine, and I fancy he'll have
to be obliged."
Dave thereupon related swiftly what had happened, Dan staring
in sheer amazement. Then Dalzell jumped up.
"Where are you going?" Darrin answered.
"To interview Clairy."
"You'd better not, Dan. The trouble is thick enough already."
"I'm going to interview Clairy---perhaps," retorted Midshipman
Dalzell. "I've just thought of a perfectly good excuse for being
briefly out of quarters during study hours. I'll be back
soon---perhaps with some news."
Off Dan posted. In less than ten minutes he returned, looking
even more indignant than had his chum.
"Davy," broke forth Dalzell hotly, "that idiot is surely hunting
all the trouble there is in Annapolis."
"He went after you, then?"
"I was making believe to march straight by the fellow's desk,"
resumed Dan, "when Clairy brought me up sharply. Told me to frap
the pap for strolling with my hands in my pockets. I didn't do
anything like that."
In another hour indignation was running riot in that division.
Midshipman Clairy had ordered no less than eight first classmen
to put themselves on report for offenses that none of them would
admit having committed.
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