"Don't toy with the truth, Mr. Darrin!" rang Clairy's voice sternly.
"If my shoes had been unlaced, they would still be unlaced, wouldn't they, sir?" demanded Dave.
"No; for you have laced them since I spoke to you about it!"
This was entirely too much for Darrin, who gulped, gasped, and then stared again at the midshipman in charge of the floor.
Then, suddenly, a light dawned on Dave. He grinned almost as broadly as Dan Dalzell could have done.
"Come, come, now, Clairy!" chided Dave. "What on earth is the joke—-and why?"
Midshipman Clairy straightened himself, his eyes flashing and his whole appearance one of intense dignity.
"Mr. Darrin, there is no joke about it, as you are certainly aware, sir. And I must call your attention to the fact that it is bad taste to address a midshipman familiarly when he is on official duty."
"Why, hang you—-" Dave broke forth utterly aghast.
"Stop, sir!" commanded Mr. Clairy, rising. "Mr. Darrin, you will place yourself on report for strolling along the corridor with both shoes unlaced. You will also place yourself on report for impertinence in answering the midshipman in charge of the floor."