"Putting up a job on a man usually calls for trickery, doesn't it?" questioned Farley.
"Why, yes—that is—er—ingenuity," admitted Henkel.
"Trickery isn't the practice of a gentleman, is it?" insisted
Farley.
"It has to be, sometimes, when we are fighting a rascal," retorted
Midshipman Henkel.
"I'm afraid I don't see that," rejoined Page, shaking his head. "Dirty work is never excusable. I'd sooner let a fellow seem to win over me, for the time being, than to resort to trickery or anything like underhanded methods for getting even with him."
"Good for you, Page!" nodded Farley "That's the whole game for a gentleman—and that's what either a midshipman or a Naval officer is required to be. Henkel, old fellow, you are a little too hot under your blouse collar tonight. Wait until you've cooled off, and you'll sign in with us on our position."
"Then you fellows are going to play the meek waiting game with
Darrin, are you?" sneered Henkel.
"We're going to play the only kind of game that a gentleman may play," put in Page incisively, "and we are not going to dally with any game about which a gentleman need feel the least doubt."
"You've spoken for me, Page, old chap," added Farley.
Midshipman Henkel took his leg off the desk, stood there for a moment, eyeing his two comrades half sneeringly, then turned on his heel and left the room. Just before he closed the door after him Henkel called back: