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Updated: May 6, 2025
"That was a narrow squeak," grunted Hepson. "Now, Jetson, get out ahead." "I'll renew this argument at another time," retorted Jetson slowly, as he crossed the floor. "You don't need to, sir," Midshipman Hepson advised him. "Every gentleman here will agree with me that Mr. Dalzell had the best of the affair right up to the end. Nor is Mr.
"Jet is crazy, but he can't be expected to take up more than one affair at a time. Darry, take your time to stop the flow of blood. Then you can demand an accounting of Jetson." "I've nothing more to say," remarked Jetson. "I was struck and I've returned the blow with interest. That ends my concern in the affair. Good night, all."
I ask the gentlemen of the class to bear with me patiently while I set forth some of the aspects of this matter as I see them. "At the very outset, sir, I wish to make it as plain as possible that I do not seek to stand here as the apologist for Mr. Jetson. I feel very certain that he would not authorize me to take that position.
Worse, in his sudden dread, he seemed to have lost control of his muscles. "Turn! Land on your feet!" called Dave. It all happened in a second. Dave, brief as the instant was, realized that the other midshipman was not going to land on his feet. In the same fleeting moment that Darrin called he hurled himself into position. Straight down shot Jetson.
"Some day, Darry, you'll tumble that you've been played for a fool," grumbled Farley. "Then I'll have the satisfaction, won't I, of knowing that it's all my own fault?" smiled Dave Darrin. "Yes; but I hate to see you go to pieces for a fellow like Jetson." The following Saturday afternoon Darrin came in from a brisk walk, to find Dan poring over his books at the study desk. "Thank you."
"Yes; unless the other elevens that we're to play improve as much as the Navy is going to do." Ten minutes later there were fully twenty midshipmen in the room, all talking animatedly on the one subject at the United States Naval Academy in October -football. So the time sped. Dave lost his chance to read his novel, but he did not mind the loss. It was Jetson who, at last, discovered the time.
Darrin," flared back Jetson, "I'll remain here long enough to hear you and to arrange for resenting the insult. Otherwise " "Well?" insisted Dave quietly, though his anger was rising. "Otherwise?" "Otherwise," retorted Midshipman Jetson, "I'll pursue my way and seek company that pleases me better." "Look out, Jet, old hot-plate!" laughed Joyce. "You'll soon be insulting all three of us."
Twice the man repeated his three raps on the door, each time a little louder, and the third time the door was opened. Jetson could not tell by whom, for whoever it was kept behind it. He could just see one wall of the passage, with a pair of old naval cutlasses crossed above the picture of a three-masted schooner that he knew hung there.
The entire Navy line charged with the purpose of one man. There came the impact, and then the Army line went down. Darrin was charging, Dalzell and Jetson running over all who got in the way. The halfback on that side of the field was dodged. Dalzell and Jetson bore down on the victim at the same instant, and Dave, running to the side like a flash, had the ball over the line.
Yes; along the inner sole of this shoe there are signs of what looks very much like blood. See here, Mr. Hepson." "Yes, sir; most certainly this is a streak of blood rubbed into the leather along this rather sharp edge of the sole." "May I suggest, Mr. Havens," hinted Jetson, "that something else may have scratched Mr. Darrin's face, and that the blood trickled to my shoe? I was under Mr.
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