Dave Darrin's First Year at Annapolis Part 6

For a moment it looked as though Dan had turned the tables of mischief upon his tormentors. His reply was so absurd that all of the upper cla.s.s men, for a moment, betrayed signs of twitching at the corners of their mouths. Then all of them conquered the desire to laugh and returned to the inquest with added severity.

The late questioner turned to one of his cla.s.smates, remarking scornfully:

"_Touge!_"

"Very touge, indeed" replied the one addressed.

A "touge" plebe, in Naval Academy parlance, is one who is wholly "fresh."

"Mister," continued Dan's quizzer, "we find you too full of levity for one who intends to embrace the profession of quarter-deck lounger. In our belief it will be necessary for you to let some new ideas soak into your head. Mister, get your wash basin and fill it exactly half full of water. Remember, mister--neither a drop nor less than exactly half full."

Dan's first impulse was to grin, his second to laugh. Yet something in the tone and look of the last speaker made "touge" Dalzell feel that the simplest way out of difficulty would be for him to obey as carefully and speedily as he could. So, with a hurried "very good, sir," Dalzell turned in quest of his basin. He brought it, just about half full, for the inspection of his imperious visitor.

"Place it there on the floor, beside the wall," ordered the tormentor

Dan obeyed.

"Now, mister, stand on your head in that water!"

Dan flushed hotly, for an instant. He even clenched his fists.

Then, with a sudden rush of good sense to the head, he bent over to carry out the order that he had received.

It was not as easy a feat as might be supposed, even for a rather well trained and hardened athlete like Dan Dalzell.

He got his head into the bowl all right, and rested his hands on the floor on either side of the bowl. It was when he tried to throw his feet up against the wall that he came to grief.

His feet slid along the wall and came down to the floor again.

Dan fell out of the bowl with a good deal of splash.

"If, at first, you don't succeed, mister," began Mids.h.i.+pman Trotter, who had const.i.tuted himself chief of the tormentors, "try, try some more."

"I'll make it, sir," responded Dan cheerily, and his very manner, now, inclined his tormentors to go a little more lightly with him.

At the third trial, with his eyes closed, just below the level of the water, Dalzell succeeded in standing very solidly on his head.

The upper cla.s.s men, who were all third cla.s.s men, or "youngsters"

as they are unofficially termed, watched the performance with interest.

"Rather well done, for a beginner," commented Mids.h.i.+pman Trotter.

"As you were, mister."

Dan, unfortunately, tried to be a bit "smart." He made a half somersault forward, trying to spring up on his feet. He fell back, however, and sat down squarely in what was left of the water.

"Never mind a little wet, mister," advised Mids.h.i.+pman Trotter, with a very serious face. "We always rate a man as highly awkward, however, if he breaks the washbowl."

"Which one of you is the better athlete?" suddenly asked Mids.h.i.+pman Harris.

Neither chum intended to be caught, by this crowd, as wanting in modesty.

"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 Mids.h.i.+pman 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 mids.h.i.+pmen, 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 cla.s.s, and hardly admits that we're alive."

On each floor a mids.h.i.+pman 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 mids.h.i.+pman 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.

Mids.h.i.+pman Bender, second cla.s.s, was, at this time, regarded as one of the worst "greasers" of all.

"What's on?" inquired Mids.h.i.+pman Hayes, one of the newcomers in the room. "Tub race?"

"No, sir; fast spurt in single-pair sh.e.l.ls," replied Mids.h.i.+pman 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 n.o.ble sport in any spirit of levity! You are not to think that this work is for your own amus.e.m.e.nt, 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."

Dave and Dan seated themselves, with all possible gravity, in their respective wash basins.

"Up oars!" commanded Mr. Trotter.

As neither plebe knew just what was meant by this command they had to be shown how to sit holding their "oars" straight up in the air.

"Let fall!"

This time the two new men guessed fairly well. They went through the motions of allowing their toothpick oars to fall into row-locks.