Mr. Pollock, however, was not contented with publishing merely a copy of the official communication from the Naval Academy authorities. The editor printed a column and a half, in all reminding his readers that Midshipman Darrin was one of a recently famous sextette of Gridley High School athletes who had been famous as Dick & Co. Not only did Dave receive a flattering amount of praise in print. Dan came in for a lot of pleasant notice also.
Dave received a marked copy of that issue of the "Blade." He fairly shivered as he read through that column and a half.
"Danny boy," shuddered Darrin, passing the "Blade" over to his roommate, "read this awful stuff. Then help me to destroy this paper!"
Dan Dalzell read the column and a half, and reddened, grinning in a sickly sort of way.
"Just awful, isn't it?" demanded Midshipman Dalzell.
"Awful?" muttered Darrin uneasily. "Why that doesn't begin to describe it. If any upper class man should see that paper—"
"He won't see this copy," proclaimed Dan, beginning to tear the offending issue of the "Blade" into small bits.
In the parlance of Annapolis the newspaper from a midshipman's home town is known as the "Bazoo." Now, the "Bazoo" has an average inclination to print very flattering remarks about the local representative at Annapolis. While the home editor always means this as pleasant service, the detection of flattering articles by any upper class man at Annapolis always means unpleasant times for the poor plebe who has been thus honored in the columns of the "Bazoo."
The torn bits of the Gridley "Blade" were carefully disposed of, but Dave still shivered. Through a clipping agency, or in some other mysterious way, upper class men frequently get hold of the "Bazoo."
Four days passed, and nothing happened out of the usual.