“I wonder who that swell is,” remarked Ralph, as Creelton and Short passed them.
“I never saw him before; probably some out-of-town stranger here for June week.”
“Who was the midshipman with him, did you notice?”
“No; I was too busy looking at the swell.”
They now lazily turned into the grounds about the state capitol building, and soon sat down on an iron bench and talked about the coming cruise, and the delightful September leave that was to follow, which Ralph was to spend at Hampden Grove.
Some distance away Creelton and Short were observing them. Then Short said: “Bill, I want a little fun. When I once thought I was going to spend four years in this uniform I conjured up lots of fun in thinking how I might haze plebes after I had been made a third classman. Now you fellows sometimes run candidates a little, don’t you?”
“You bet we do, and the candidates like it.”
“Well, can’t you steer me against some candidate who I can have a little fun with?”
“Yes, indeed. I know one who’d rather be hazed than have a dish of ice cream. He’ll do anything anybody who has a uniform on tells him to do.”
“Good; he’ll think I’m a midshipman in this rig. Is he apt to be far from here?”