Dave Darrin took his uniform cap down from the nail and put it on with great deliberation. Next, he picked up his whisk broom, flecking off two or three imaginary specks of dust.
“Now, I guess we can go along, Danny boy,” he remarked, in a tone of ominous quietness.
“Where are you headed?” murmured Dalzell, as they reached the room door.
“To Farley’s room,” answered Dave Darrin coolly. “Do you suppose he’s there?”
“He was, a few moments ago” Dan answered.
“Then let us hope he is now.”
Carrying himself with his most erect and military air, Darrin stepped down the corridor, Dalzell keeping exactly at his side.
The chums arrived before the door of the room in which Farley was lodged.
Dave raised his hand, sounding a light knock on the door, which he next pushed open.
Farley and a dozen other members of the fourth class were in the room. Moreover, it was evident instantly that some of those present were discussing the burning class issue.
“But are you sure he did it? Farley?” one midshipman inquired, as the chums entered.
“Sure?” repeated Farley. “Of course I am! Didn’t I tell you what a hot row we had. Darrin—”
“I’m here to speak for myself, Farley,” boomed in the quiet, steady voice of Dave Darrin. “But I’ll hear you first, if you wish.”
“Oh, you’re here, are you?” cried Farley hotly, wheeling about on the visitors.
Some of the other fourth class men present turned and glanced coldly at the two last-comers. Others looked on with eager curiosity.
“I’ve heard,” announced Darrin, “that you are saying some things about me that don’t sound well. So I’ve come to ask you what you are saying.”
“I won’t keep you waiting,” jeered Farley. “You know, from hearing morning orders, that six of us were given fifty demerits apiece.”
“For going over the wall to a late supper in town,” nodded Dave.
“You wouldn’t go with us,” continued Farley angrily, “and gave us a greaser’s talk-fest instead.”
“I didn’t advise you against going,” responded Dave, standing with his arms folded, utterly cool as he eyed his accuser.
“Then, after we went, some one went and wised the powers,” charged Farley. “Now, no one but a most abandoned greaser would do that.”
To “wise the powers” is to give information to the Naval officers.
“The fellow who would wilfully tell on you would be worse than what you term a greaser,” agreed Dave.
“Careful,” warned Farley ironically. “You know who told, or who caused the wise word to leak to the powers.”
“I don’t,” Dave denied bluntly.
“You’re the sneak, yourself!” cried Farley angrily.
“I am not,” spoke Dave, with clear denial.
“Do you mean to say I lie?” demanded Midshipman Farley threateningly, as he took a step forward.