"Yes," murmured Dave.
"What are you going to do about it, Davy?"
"Take my medicine," Dave replied.
"But we weren't really in the thing."
"Danny boy, never get out of a thing, or try to, by playing cry baby!"
"No danger," retorted Dalzell. "David, little giant, we'll just console ourselves with the realization that we're in the worst scrape we ever struck yet."
"Yes," nodded Dave.
Fourth classmen Flint and Austin were not long in making themselves presentable. Then they fell in at the rear of the line.
"Squad, forward march!" commanded the discipline officer dryly.
Through the corridor and off that deck the little squad of thirteen midshipmen marched. Never had thirteen been more unlucky, for the present superintendent was known to be a man determined to stamp out hazing.