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Updated: May 2, 2025
She would try and see him again before sailing; if not, she would write him with her address. She was perfectly cool and collected. She had called on his wife and daughters in the afternoon, and had wished them good-bye. Outside Jetson's office she hailed a cab, and returned in it to Laleham Gardens to collect her boxes.
A surgeon and a hospital man were quickly on the spot, the others, anxious as they were, drawing back considerately to give the men of medicine room in which to work. As Dave Darrin was gently turned over on his back it was seen that Damn's face was a mass of blood. "Jetson's work," grunted two or three of the players. "He did it on purpose!"
Darrin, somewhat, sir, in the scrimmage when the bunch went down." There was really nothing that could be proved, in any case, so the head coach could only say very quietly: "Let the practice go on, Mr. Hepson. Put Mr. Wardell temporarily in Mr. Darrin's place on the line." There was one in the group who had not said a word so far. But he had been looking on, his keen eyes studying Jetson's face.
"I'm afraid that some of the fellows think I purposely cut Darrin up in that fashion," remarked Jetson to his tablemates during the evening meal. "Don't you know that you didn't?" inquired one of the midshipmen laconically. None of the other men at table took heed of Jetson's words. At some of the other tables equal silence did not prevail.
"Absolutely fair play, gentlemen, to both contestants!" Again the showering exchange of blows. Jetson, after his late rapid expenditure of force and nerve-energy, was now just the least bit confused. Dan landed on one ear, and then against his enemy's chin. Both were hard, dazing blows, though neither left a mark. Then an uppercut and Dalzell landed on Jetson's jugular.
He had not lost control of himself, but he was warming up to the instinct of fighting when no other course seemed open. Jetson's next blow grazed Midshipman Dalzell's chin. The follow-up blow landed on Dan's left ear. Now Dalzell "sailed in" in earnest. He attacked forcefully and swiftly. Jetson was forced to give ground. Dan pursued him around the room.
"It's tough," sighed Dave, then quietly began his studies. It is a rare proceeding to send a midshipman to Coventry; a step that is never taken save for the gravest reasons. Dan, having fought, did not feel it necessary to bring Jetson's case before a class meeting, and Jetson escaped Coventry.
Swift as a flash Hepson and Farley leaped forward, fairly snatching Jetson, who was still half dazed, to his feet. "Brace up? Jetson! Don't look silly or dazed,", warned Hepson, in a stern whisper. "That rap was the signal of the approach of the O.C." Farley was industriously brushing the signs of dust from Jetson's uniform.
Her husband had been called away suddenly to America, where it would be necessary for her to join him as soon as possible. She would come round to Jetson's office later in the day to make arrangements about getting rid of the house and furniture.
"Hold on!" ordered Hepson, bounding forward and laying a strong, detaining hand on Jetson's shoulder. "You can't slip away like that. Matters have gone so far that they'll simply have to go further. You'd put yourself wholly in the wrong by withdrawing now especially after the slimy trick that you've played a fair opponent." "Slimy, eh?" cried Jetson angrily. "Mr.
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