"Mark," said the Parson, solemnly.
"Mark," murmured Indian from the corner, and "Mark" chimed in the two newcomers.
"It seems to be unanimous," said Mark, "so I guess I'll have to let it go. But I'm sure I can't see why you think of me. What shall we call ourselves?"
That brought a lengthy discussion, which space does not permit of being given. The Loyal Legion, the Sons of the Revolution, the Independents, the Cincinnati—suggested by the classic Parson—and also the Trojan Heroes—from the same source—all these were suggested and rejected. Then somebody moved the Seven Rebels, which was outvoted as not expressive enough, but which led to another one that took the whole crowd with a rush. It came from an unexpected source—the unobtrusive Indian in the corner.
"Let's name it 'The Seven Devils'!" said he.
And the Seven Devils they were from that day until the time when the class graduated from the Point.
"Three cheers for the Seven Devils!" cried Dewey, "b'gee!"
"Now," said the Parson, rising with a solemn look, "let us swear eternal fealty by all that man holds holy. Let us swear by the Stygian Shades and the realms of Charon, whence all true devils come. Yea, by Zeus!"
"And we'll stand by one another to the death, b'gee," cried Dewey. "Remember, we're organized for no purpose on earth but to do those yearlings, and we'll lick 'em, b'gee, if they dare to look at us."
"Show 'em no mercy, don't ye know," said "Chauncey."