"No better," Dave answered, moodily.
"Did he rake you over the coals again?"
"Yes." Then Darrin detailed the circumstances.
"I am afraid he has it in for you, all right," muttered Danny Grin, scowling.
"He'll report me as often as he can, I don't doubt," Dave replied. "If he can bring me up before a general court-martial, all the better."
"I'm sorry you're not in Trent's division," Dan sighed. "He's a gentleman—-a regular, sea-going officer."
"Sea-going" is the highest praise that can be given in Navy circles.
"If I were in Trent's division, probably you'd have fallen under
Cantor," Darrin suggested.
"That would have been all right," nodded Dalzell, cheerily. "Cantor has no direct cause to hate me, as he has in your case. Besides, I'd do a good many things to a mean superior that you wouldn't. If I had to stand watch with Cantor, and he tried any queer treatment of me, I'd find a way to make his life miserable. I believe I've shown some skill in that line in the past."
"You surely have," Darrin nodded. "But I don't like to spring traps for my superior officers to fall into."