CHAPTER XII. JUDSON RECEIVES A SETBACK.
That evening after supper Cadets Blakely and Ferguson were slowly pacing up and down the port side of the spar deck talking over the all-engrossing subject—the plebe’s minstrel show.
“To tell you the honest truth, Ferguson,” said the big senior, after a pause, “I don’t see how we can stop the thing without raising a lot of trouble.”
“Oh, there is more than one way to kill a cat,” replied the other. “You just promise that you will lend a hand, and I’ll furnish any amount of schemes.”
“But the old man has given his consent, you know.”
“That doesn’t cut any ice. What right has he to break a cadet rule? He was a cadet himself once, and I’ll bet anything he was just as strict against the plebe class as we are. Why, how was it yourself? Did you kick and refuse to be—er—to be——”
“Hazed?” smiled Blakely. “Yes, hazed.”
“Humph! I was too scared.”