“The proper feeling. So was I. Why, they made me eat a yard of red ribbon I brought home to remember my girl by. Yes, made me eat the whole blamed thing. And it put me in the hospital for a week, too. But I didn’t kick or squeal either.”
“You can’t say Faraday ever squealed,” said Blakely, quickly.
“No, I won’t say that,” replied Ferguson, reluctantly. “But he’s done everything else. He’s a fool. Why, the whole plebe class is as impudent as you please. Yesterday I told that little fellow, Nanny Gote, to do something for me, and he actually refused.”
“You don’t say! That’s bad. But what was it?”
Ferguson reddened.
“Why, I—it—I just asked him to overhaul my bag and give the clothes an airing.”
“And——” persisted the big senior, smiling shyly.
“Oh, nothing more—that is, I believe I asked him to wash all the soiled things.”
“And he refused? The impudent beggar! He’s certainly unreasonable.”
The sarcasm in the words made Ferguson uncomfortable, and he said nothing for several moments. As they slowly paced up and down the deck a cadet emerged from the forward hatch and eyed them.