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In a twinkling that motion had been withdrawn. "Will Mr. Darrin, state, if able, how serious Clairy's insanity is believed to be?" inquired the chair. "It is serious enough to ruin all his chances in the Navy," Dave answered, "though the surgeons believe that, after Clairy has been taken by his friends to some asylum, his cure can eventually be brought about."
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.
"He has always been a sulk, and never had a real friend in the class," broke in Farley. "He has always been quiet and reticent," Dave admitted. "But we never before had any real grievance against Mr. Clairy." "Coventry, swift and tight, is the only answer to the situation." "Let's not be in too much haste, fellows," Darrin urged. "You -you give such advice as that?" gasped Midshipman Dalzell.
President, I take it upon myself to move that the first class should, and hereby does, send Mr. Clairy to Coventry for all time to come!" "Second the motion!" cried several voices. Then a diversion was created. One of the big doors opened and a midshipman stepped into the room, closing the door. That midshipman was Dave Darrin.
But come to my room just as soon as release sounds -will you?" "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."
Here is the way in which the whole big buzzing-match got its start and went on to a lively finish. "Mr. Darrin!" With that hail proceeded sharply from the lips of a first classman, who on this evening happened to be the midshipman in charge of the floor. Clairy sat at his desk in the corridor, his eyes on a novel until Dave happened along. As he gave the sharp hail Mr.
"The explanation will have to be sought with fists," grumbled Fenwick. "And there are eight of us, while Clairy has only two eyes that can be blackened." The news had spread, of course, and the first class was in a fury of resentment against one of its own members.
"Clairy has ordered me to report myself." "What does he say you were doing that you weren't doing?" inquired Midshipman Darrin, a curious look in his eyes. "Clairy has the nerve to state that I was coming along the corridor with my blouse unbuttoned. He ordered me to button it up, which I couldn't do since it was already buttoned.
The meeting seemed doomed to resolve itself into a turmoil of angry language. "Clairy is a hound!" "A liar in my case!" "He's hunting a fight!" "Coventry would do him more good." "Yes; we'll have to call the class to deal with this." "The scoundrel!" "The pup!" "He's trying to pile some of us up with so many demerits that we won't be able to graduate." We can't fight such a lying hound.
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.
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