, "I
shall need a little talk with you at the early convenience of us both."

"Whenever you like," retorted Midshipman Jetson, flashing back a look
of defiance.

Then the game went on. By supper time the men of the brigade knew that
Darrin was getting along comfortably; that he was in no pain and that he
was in hospital only in the hope that he might be saved the annoyance of
wearing a disfiguring scar on his face throughout all his life.

"I'm afraid that some of the fellows think I purposely cut Darrin up in
that fashion," remarked Jetson to his tablemates during the evening meal.

"Don't you know that you didn't?" inquired one of the midshipmen
laconically. None of the other men at table took heed of Jetson's words.

At some of the other tables equal silence did not prevail. Midshipmen who
did not accuse or suspect Jetson of intentional wickedness expressed the
opinion that he was, at all events, careless and not a valuable member of
the football squad.

Jetson himself was wholly aware that he was more or less suspected in the
minds of many, and the knowledge made him savage.

During the few minutes recreation that followed the evening meal, Dan
Dalzell approached the sullen one, who was now standing quite alone.

"Mr. Jetson, I shall be glad to have a talk with you," announced Dan.
"Will you come to my room, or shall I go to yours?"

"Lead the way to your room, sir," replied Jetson stiffly.

Dan did so, and behind the door the two midshipmen faced each other.

"Well, sir!" demanded the visitor.

"Mr. Jetson, both times that you have played against Darrin something has
happened to him."

"Don't insinuate, Mr. Dalzell. If you anything to say, speak out
plainly, sir."

"I hardly know what to say," Midshipman Dan confessed. "As a midshipman,
your honor should be above question."

"Do you wish to remark that it isn't?"

"Why, I don't know," Dan answered frankly. "It seems a fearful thing to
say, or even to think, about a midshipman."

"Mr. Dalzell, either I did, or I didn't, intentionally injure Mr. Darrin.
Yon must think one thing or the other. If you suspect that I did the
thing intentionally, then why beat about the bush?"

"I don't want to beat about the bush, and, on the other hand, I don't
want to do you any injustice, Mr. Jetson, I thought perhaps you would be
willing to help me out by proffering your midshipman's word of honor--"

"And I," rejoined Jetson in cold anger, "consider it insultin