"You've got a brief grouch against yourself, Davy," muttered Dan.
"No; but I think I know what a Naval officer should be, and I also know how far short I fall of what I should be."
"If you get your diploma," argued Midshipman Dalzell, "the faculty of the Naval Academy will testify on the face of it that you're a competent midshipman and on your way to being fit to hold an ensign's commission presently."
"But that's just the point, Danny. I shall know, myself, that
I'm only a poor, dub sort of Naval officer. I tell you, Danny,
I don't know enough to be a good Naval officer."
"Then that's a reflection on your senior officers who have had your training on hand," grinned Dalzell. "If you talk in the same vein after you've gotten your diploma, it will amount to a criticism of the intelligence of your superior officers. And that's something that's wisely forbidden by the regulations."
Dan picked up a text-book and opened it, as though he believed that he had triumphantly closed the discussion. Midshipman Darrin, however, was not to be so easily silenced.
"Then, if you're not fitted to be a Naval officer," blurted Dalzell, "what on earth can be said of me?"
"You may not stand quite as high as I do, on mere markings," Dave assented. "But there are a lot of things, Danny, that you know much better than I do."
"Name one of them," challenged Dalzell.
"Well, steam engineering, for instance. Now, I'm marked higher in that than you are, Danny. Yet, when the engine on one of the steamers goes wrong you can hunt around until you get the engine to running smoothly. You're twice as clever at that as I am."