"I'm—I'm just a bit astonished at your saying it, Stearns," rejoined Lieutenant Willow. "But then, you're always joking."
"Perhaps I am joking," assented the officer in charge dryly, "but I never lose sight of the fact that our Navy has been built up, at huge expense, as a great fighting machine. Now, Willow, it takes fighting men to run a fighting machine. Of course, I'm terribly shocked to know that two midshipmen really had the grit to fight—but who were they! Mind you, I'm not asking you in an official way. This question is purely personal—just between ourselves. Who were the men? And, especially, who was the fellow who lost the decision, and then had the utter effrontery to demand a second chance at once, only to win the second fight?"
"Darrin was the man who lost the first fight and won the second," replied Lieutenant Willow.
"Mr. Darrin? One of our youngsters? Yes; I think I know him. And what man of his class did he whip, the second time he tried!"
"It wasn't a man of his own class. It was Mr. Treadwell, of the first class," rejoined Lieutenant Willow.
"What?" almost exploded the officer in charge. "Did you say that Mr. Darrin fought with Mr. Treadwell, that husky top classman, and, losing the decision on the count, insisted on fighting again the same evening? Oh, say, what a fellow misses by being cooped up in an office like this!"
"But—but the breach of regulations!" stammered the duty-mad lieutenant.
"My dear fellow, neither you nor I know anything about this fight—officially. The Navy, after all, is a fighting machine. Do you feel that the Navy can afford to lose a fighting man like that youngster?"
So Lieutenant Willow left Lieutenant-Commander Stearns' presence, not quite convinced he was performing his whole duty, but glad to bow to the decision of a ranking officer.
Two days later Dave and Dan were surprised at being halted by Lieutenant-Commander Stearns.