There were less than twenty of the midshipmen now remaining in the room, so Jetson did not feel as embarrassed as he might have done had he been called upon to give the recital before a class meeting.  He told his listeners the story of Dave’s splendid conduct in the gym. that afternoon, and of the talk that had followed the reconciliation of the enemies.

“That was like good old Darry again,” remarked Farley proudly.  “No fellow has a warmer temper than Darry when he’s aroused to righteous anger, but no fellow has a more generous temper at all times.”

“Let’s go down and jump in on Darry, all hands!” proposed Joyce.

“Listen!” warned Farley.

Study call!  That took the young men hastily to their regular academic duties.

“One thing this business has done,” remarked Midshipman Farley, looking up from his books.

“I’ll be the goat,” murmured Page.

“Darry has always been somewhat the leader of the class, ever since the fellows began to find him out, back in the first year here.  But this last business has boosted Dave Darrin unmistakably and solidly now into the post of leader of the class.”

“We’re safe, then!” retorted Page.  “Darry won’t lead us into any trouble!”

The realization that Midshipman Dave Darrin was assured leader of the second class was not long in coming to most of the other men of the class.

Yet Dave did not seek the post, nor did he attempt to do any actual leading.  He still considered himself as possessing one voice, and one only, in the class councils.

If Dave was leader, Dan Dalzell, both by reflected glory and by virtue of his own sterling merits as well, shared the leadership with Dave to a great extent.  Dan’s power might have gone further than it did had it not been for the fact that he was so full of mischief as to leave his comrades often in doubt as to whether he were really serious in what he said and did.

CHAPTER XXIII

“Bagged,” And no mistake

“Plebes Flint and Austin are having a good many callers,” remarked Dave
Darrin, halting by the door of quarters before he and Dan entered.

“Sure!  Aren’t you wise?” inquired Dan, with a wink.

“I think so,” murmured Dave.  “The callers all seem to be third classmen.”

“Of course; they’re putting the rookies through their paces.”

“Surest thing!” murmured Dalzell without excitement.

“But this is March.  Isn’t it a rather late time in the year to be still hounding the poor new men?”

“I don’t know,” mused Dalzell.  “It may be that Mr. Flint and Mr. Austin are unusually touge.”

“Touge” is Annapolis slang for “fresh.”  It corresponds closely to the “b j” of West Point.

A sound as of protest came from behind a closed door at the further end of the deck.