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"And leave our camp to be trampled down and made a complete wreck by a lot of crazy cattle?" gasped Greg Holmes. "I'd rather have the camp trampled than my face," retorted Dalzell. "I don't want to flee from here and leave the camp to be destroyed, and our summer's fun spoiled," protested Greg. "We must stop the cattle, or split their stampede." "All right, Holmesy," agreed Tom ironically.
Trotter was telling me, yesterday, that the plebe year is the hardest year of all here." "Mr. Trotter is a highly intelligent individual, then," murmured Dan Dalzell. "He explained that the first year is the hardest just because the new man has never before learned how to study. After our first year here, he says, we'll have the gait so that we can go easily at the work given us."
I shall feel very safe in whatever you propose for water sports." "It's a good deal better to be safe, than sorry, when you have girls under your care," Dan Dalzell added. The motor boat, a fast though a low-hulled craft, had been long out of sight up the river. Presently there came a new turn to the wind. Dan wet a forefinger and held it up to the breeze.
His lip quivered, and he begged, brokenly: "Darrin, show a little mercy. Would you care to be kicked out of the Academy?" "Not any more than Dalzell would have liked it," replied Dave dryly. "Then you must realize that it would spoil my life, too." "Mr. Brimmer," retorted Darrin sternly, "it is no longer a question of what your feelings in the matter may be.
In the same moment Tom Reade saw the object that had arrested Dan's attention. From between the bushes peered a pair of deep-set, frightened eyes that looked out from the haggard, despairing face of a man whose head alone was visible. Just for the moment neither Tom nor Dalzell could really guess whether the face belonged to the living or the dead.
"Their shepherds were killed by the blacks," said Deb, as she pushed the ponies up to the wall, and he rose in the carriage to look over the top, "and they buried them here, marking the place with a pile of stones. There were other deaths, and they enclosed the piece of land. Then a brother of Mr Dalzell's, and a girl; and Mr Dalzell himself wished to be put here, beside his brother.
Dan had occasion to pass the now very unpopular Jetson. "Good morning, Jetson," was Dan's greeting. Jetson started slightly, then replied, with a sulky frown: "Good morning, Dalzell." "Glad he'll speak to me," thought Dan with an inward grimace, "for I'm afraid that, before long, I'll be in the way of feeling mighty lonely a good deal of the time."
"Why," pursued Dan, "we can summon seven of the undertakers for our job, and still leave two available for the public service." Dick sprang up from the stone wall, tightly gripping Dan Dalzell by the coat collar. "Help me watch this lunatic, fellows," urged Dick, quietly. "He's dangerous. You've heard him! He's plotting assassination!"
Dan Dalzell, another freshman, had been standing back, keeping quiet as long as he could. "See here," proposed Dan, stepping forward, "isn't a freshman allowed to say something when his friend is insulted?" "Go ahead," nodded Thompson, who knew Dan to be one of young Prescott's close friends. "Dick isn't in shape to fight, and I know it," continued Dan Dalzell, hotly.
"Others have done it, before us, and many more are going to do it this year," replied Dave slowly, as he laid comb and brush away and drew on his uniform blouse. "I know men have gotten through the Naval Academy in years gone by," Dalzell agreed.
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