Dave turned, to behold Mr. Treadwell coming at a fast stride with a scowl on his face.
"That was a dirty trick you played me last night, Mr. Darrin!" cried the first classman angrily.
"What?" gasped Dave, astonished, for this was not in line with the usual conversation of midshipmen.
"You know well enough what I mean," cried Treadwell angrily. "You spiked my only chance to dance with Miss Meade."
"You're wrong there," retorted Dave coldly and truthfully "I didn't."
"Then how did it happen?"
"I can't discuss that with you," Darrin rejoined. "I didn't make any effort, though, to spoil your chance of a dance with the young lady."
"Mr. Darrin, I don't choose to believe you, sir!"
Dave's face went crimson, then pale.
"Do you realize what you're saying, Mr. Treadwell?"