"My denial of the charge of having my shoes unlaced is the only answer that I can possibly make, sir."
The commandant reflected. Then he directed that Midshipman Clairy be ordered to report to him. Clairy came, almost immediately. The commandant questioned him closely. Clairy still stuck resolutely to his story that Dave Darrin had been passing through the corridor with his shoes unlaced; and, furthermore, that Darrin, when rebuked and ordered to place himself on report, had used impertinent language.
During this examination the midshipmen did not glance toward each other. Both stood at attention, their glances on the commandant's face.
"I do not know what to say," the officer admitted at last. "I will take the matter under advisement. You may both go."
Outside, well away from the office, Dave Darrin halted, swinging and confronting Clairy sternly.
"You lying scoundrel!" vibrated Darrin, his voice shaking with anger.
"It constitutes another offense, Mr. Darrin, to use such language for the purpose of intimidating a midshipman in the performance of his duty," returned Midshipman Clairy, looking back steadily into Dave's eyes.
"An offense? Fighting is another, under a strict interpretation of the rules," Dave replied coldly.
"And I do not intend to fight you," replied Clairy, still speaking smoothly.
"Perhaps I should know better than to challenge you," replied Midshipman Darrin. "The spirit of the brigade prohibits my fighting any one who is not a gentleman."