"I'll fight the man who did that," promised Midshipman Dan, wheeling around. Then added cautiously:
"If he's a graduate."
There being, naturally, no graduates present except the officer at the furthest corner of the mess hall, Dan's challenge provoked laughter.
Many other pranks were played, but there is not room to record them here. The meal over and the brigade dismissed, some of the midshipmen—there were nearly eight hundred of them—went to their own quarters, or visited the rooms of cronies. Hundreds took the air in the grounds.
Almost the sole topic was football. Hepson speedily had most of the members of the big squad gathered about him. Others, who could not hope to "make" in football, gathered near-by, as though afraid of losing some of the talk.
"Remember, gentlemen, until the Army game is over, it's to be nothing this year but work, work, work!" warned Midshipman Hepson, with intense earnestness.
With nothing but football in the air, Dan soon caught the infection even more deeply than his chum.
"Hang it, I'm a dub," groaned Dan. "Lots of the fellows gave up their leave in order to be here and practise. Why in the mischief didn't I?"
"For the same reason that perhaps I didn't sacrifice leave," replied
Dave. "I wasn't asked to. And you weren't, either, were you?"
"No; but I wish I had flung myself at Hepson's head, and made him take me, instead of going off to Gridley like a deserter! It's October now, and what earthly chance, Dave, have you and I to get in shape?"