“You didn’t mean? Why didn’t you mean? Say, is it possible you say things without meaning them? Then you don’t tell the truth. Ergo—you can’t be trusted. A pretty naval officer you will make. I’ll just mark you down for report to the commanding officer.”
And Cadet Corporal Sharpe made an elaborate flourish of his pencil as he pretended to enter the item in his notebook.
Standing before him in evident fear and trembling was Nanny. Clif was also present.
“Did you ever hear the beat of that, Trolley?” whispered Clif. “It’s simply outrageous, the way Sharpe is carrying on. What does he take us for, a lot of dummies? I think we’ll have to give him and the rest another lesson in manners.”
“I think so very much, Clif,” replied Trolley, in the same tone. “He what you call one dead-sure crank, eh? He bluffer from—from——”
“Bluffersville,” prompted Joy.
“Yes, him from Blufftown, eh? Him get a curve off him.”
There was a smile at this attempt of the Japanese youth to use American slang—a smile that was observed and sternly checked by the corporal.
“What’s that,” he exclaimed, sarcastically. “Grinning during drill? Mean it as an insult to the service, I suppose.”
“Not exactly,” mildly replied Clif.