"Get out for some kicks, now!" called Hepson.
"When are you going to play football?" growled one man.
Midshipman Hepson turned on him like a flash.
"Jetson, there's a substitute captain in the squad, but you're not the man. Neither are you one of the coaches."
"Oh, you make me—" began Jetson, but Midshipman Hepson cut him short with:
"If you can't keep silence when you've nothing to say, your absence from the field will be considered a favor to the whole squad."
Jetson scowled, but said nothing more. Neither did he offer to retire from the field.
"Jetson has always been a kicker and a trouble mosquito," whispered Dan
Dalzell to his chum.
"Oh, in a lot of ways Jetson is a nice fellow," Darrin replied quietly. "The greatest trouble that ails him is that he has just a trifle too large opinion of the importance of his own opinions. There are a lot of us troubled in that way."
The kicking practice was put through with dash and vim. Then Midshipman Hepson, after a brief conference with the head coach, called off the line-up for the provisional Navy team, following this with a roster of the second team, or "Rustlers," so called because they force the men of the Navy team to rustle to keep their places.