"Well, now see here, Farley, and you, too, Page, what has happened? At first we had the class pretty sore against Darrin for getting our crowd ragged. Since the fight, however, in which you were pummeled like—"
"Never mind my fate in the fight," interposed Farley. "It was a fair fight."
"Well, ever since the fight," resumed Henkel, "Darrin has been climbing up again in class favor. Most of the boobies in the fourth class seem to feel that, just because Darrin hammered you so, the beating you received proves Darrin's innocence of a mean act."
"I can't help what the class concludes," retorted Farley stiffly.
"Page, you have more spirit than that, haven't you?" demanded
Henkel, wheeling upon Midshipman Farley's roommate.
"I hope I have spirit enough," replied Page, bridling slightly, "but I am aware of one big lack."
"What is that?"
"I seem to lack the keen intelligence needed to understand what you are driving at, Henkel."
"That's the point, Henkel," broke in Midshipman Farley, walking the floor in short turns. "Just what are you driving at? Why are you trying to make me mad by such frequent references to the fact that Darrin won his fight with me?"
"I'm sounding you fellows," admitted Henkel.