“He is, sir,” replied Dan, with great promptness, nodding toward Darrin.

“Dalzell is, sir,” contended Dave.

“In view of this conflicting testimony, we shall have to settle the question by actual test,” replied Mr. Trotter.  “Mister,” to Dan, “bale out your boat.”

From the nod which accompanied this command Dalzell understood that he was to empty the water from his wash basin so he promptly obeyed.

“Mister,” to Darrin, “launch your boat on this water here.”

Plainly the “water” signified the floor.  Dave brought out his own wash basin with alacrity.  Under further orders the chums placed their bowls about four feet apart.

“Here,” announced Midshipman Trotter, taking two toothpicks from a pocket, “are a pair of oars.”

Dave Darrin received the toothpicks with a grin.

“And here are your oars, mister,” supplemented Mr. Trotter, handing another pair of toothpicks to Dan Dalzell.

At this instant a faint knock was heard at the door, which opened immediately after.

“Got a pair of beasts at work, fellows?” asked a voice.  “Here are some more young admirals who need a little help.”

Four new midshipmen, in the custody of three youngsters, now stepped into the room and the door was closed.

“Bender’s in charge of the floor tonight, you know,” nodded one of the newly-arrived youngsters, “and Bender’s duty-crazy.  Besides, he belongs to the second class, and hardly admits that we’re alive.”

On each floor a midshipman is detailed to be in charge through the evening.  He is responsible for discipline on his floor, and must report all breaches of the rules.  A midshipman who wishes to stand well with his comrades may, when in charge of the floor, conveniently fail to see a good many minor breaches of discipline.  When the man in charge of the floor reports all breaches that come to his notice he is said to be duty-crazy.  He is also charged with “trying to make his mark in grease.”  “Grease” is high standing on the efficiency report.  As a rule the man who stands well in “grease” stands somewhat lower in general popularity.

Midshipman Bender, second class, was, at this time, regarded as one of the worst “greasers” of all.

“What’s on?” inquired Midshipman Hayes, one of the newcomers in the room.  “Tub race?”

“No, sir; fast spurt in single-pair shells,” replied Midshipman Trotter impressively.

“Whew!  You’ve caught some real athletes, have you?”

“That’s what we want to find out,” responded Mr. Trotter.  “Now, then, misters, we warn you against approaching this noble sport in any spirit of levity!  You are not to think that this work is for your own amusement, or for anyone else’s.  You must try yourselves out fairly and squarely.  Our purpose is to find out which is the better oarsman, and also which rows with the more finish.  Take your seats in your craft.”