"That's just what it rings like," affirmed Midshipman Page, nodding his head. "Well, out with it! What's your real proposition?"
"Are you with me?" asked Midshipman Henkel warily.
"How can we tell," demanded Farley impatiently, "until you come down out of the thunder clouds, and tell us just what you mean?"
"Pshaw, fellows," remarked Mr. Henkel, in exasperation, "I hate to think it, but I am beginning to wonder if you two have the amount of spirit with which I had always credited you."
"Cut out the part about the doubts," urged Farley, "and tell us, in plain English, just what you are driving at."
"Fellows, I believe, then," explained Midshipman Henkel, "that we owe it to ourselves, to the Naval Academy and to the Navy, to work Dave Darrin out of here as soon as we can."
"How?" challenged Farley flatly.
"Why, can't we put up some scheme that will pile up the 'dems.' against that industrious greaser? Can't we spring a game that will wipe all his grease-marks off the efficiency slate?" asked Midshipman Henkel mysteriously.
"Do you mean by putting up a job on Darrin?" inquired Page.
"That's just it!" nodded Henkel, with emphasis.