“Three cheers for Jet!” shouted one impulsive midshipman.
“Any remarks?” questioned the chair.
“I do not see how Mr. Jetson’s retraction or apology could be made any more explicit. I trust to see Mr. Farley’s motion, seconded by Mr. Page, put to the vote and carried at once. I am wholly aware that I have incurred the class’s displeasure (cries of ‘no! no!’) but I urge that whatever action may be taken regarding myself be deferred until after Mr. Jetson has been restored to the fullest measure of class and brigade fellowship.”
“Any further remarks?” questioned the class president, when Darrin had seated himself. “If not, I will state the motion.”
A few “nays” succeeded the great chorus of “ayes,” and the motion of Coventry for Jetson was declared tabled.
“Any further action?” demanded the chair.
“Move we adjourn!” called Farley.
“Second the motion!” seconded Page.
The motion was put and carried without dissent Then, amid the greatest jollity, the meeting was declared adjourned.
There was a rush of at least twenty men to shake hands with Jetson, who, with flushed but pleased face, bore his honors as modestly as he could.
“What on earth came over you, Jet?” demanded Joyce bluntly.
“It would be a long story about Darrin,” replied Midshipman Jetson. “He had the grace to show me that I was a constitutional ass, with perhaps some slight chance of being reborn. To make it short, Darrin persuaded me to come before the class, eat humble pie and set myself right with myself, even if I couldn’t with the class.”
“It was beautifully done, Jet,” murmured Page, who was tremendously grateful at seeing Dave Darrin rescued from sacrificing himself to a principle.
“If any of you fellows catch me in the sulks hereafter,” spoke up Jetson, though he winced as he said it, “I hope the man who catches me will do me the very great favor of passing me a few sound kicks before others have a chance to catch me to the bad.”
“Bully for you—you’re all right, Jet!” called several warmly.
Fully half of the class members had left the room by this time. Dan Dalzell, who had been thunderstruck, and who was now full of questions, was being urged out of the room by Dave.
“So Darry converted you, did he?” laughed Joyce. “Bully for Darry. Why, that great and good fellow dared the class to send him to Coventry after it got through with you. He accused the class of kicking a man without giving that man a chance to get up on his feet.”
“It’s a good deal like Darrin,” remarked Jetson, his eyes a trifle misty, “though it took me a thundering long time to realize that Darrin was really of that kind.”
“How did it happen, any way?” insisted Farley.
“You’ve heard nothing about it?”
“Not a word—not a hint,” protested Page eagerly.