“I knew you’d find it out soon enough. Yes, I’m on the shelf with the rest of the canned goods!”
“Dishonorably discharged from the service, sir! And for what cause?”
“How do I know what that sour old pill, Travers, has framed up on me?” demanded Hal angrily. “He’s the kind of guy that would make murder out of killing a mosquito. If a fellow takes a single drink, or looks at a skirt—a girl, I mean—he’s ready to chop his head off!”
“Is, eh?” demanded the old captain sternly. “So you deny having been drunk and disorderly, having committed an assault on a proctor, having stolen the money I sent you for your bill, and having cheated in examinations? Here in this place of solemn memories you deny all that?”
“I—I—” Hal began, but the tale of his misdemeanors was too circumstantial for even his brazen effrontery.
“You deny it, sir?”
“Oh, what’s the use, gramp?” Hal angrily flung at him. “Everything’s framed up against me! I’m sick of the whole thing, anyhow. College is a frost. I never fell for it at all. You tried to wish it on me, when everything I wanted in the world was to go to sea. It’s all true. Let it go at that!”
“So then, sir, I still have a heavy bill at college to pay, besides the disgrace of your discharge?”
“Oh, I suppose so! I’m fired. Glad I am! Glad I’m done with the whole damned business!”