"Very good, mister."
"That is all you wish to say to me, sir?"
"You may go, mister."
Dave Darrin walked away, his mind full of mighty serious thoughts.
In the first place, for a midshipman to call out another, for reporting him for breach of discipline, is about as serious an offense as a midshipman can ordinarily commit. It insures, if detected, the instant dismissal of the challenger. And the challenged midshipman, if he accepts, held to be equally guilty. So are the seconds.
In accepting this challenge, which he had done instantly, Dave
Darrin well knew that he placed his chances of remaining at the
Naval Academy in great peril. He was also aware that he ran Dan's
head into equal danger.
Yet tradition and custom would not allow Darrin to dodge the fight thus thrust upon him. It was equally true, that, if he failed to ask Dan to act as his second, he would put a serious slight on his chum.
Dave hurried to Dalzell, who listened with more glee than might have been expected.
"Good enough, David, little giant!" approved Dalzell. "When you meet Henley on the field just close in and pound off the whole of his superstructure!
"Dan, I'm afraid I'm letting you in for a tough risk."