r blouses off, though
neither had been required to take off his collar. The trousers of the two
fourth classmen were rather liberally overlaid with dust, showing that
they must have been performing some rough stunts on the floor.

"Step over to that, basin, mister," ordered Youngster Eaton, eyeing
Flint, who promptly obeyed.

"Now, mister, stand on your head in that bowl," commanded
Midshipman Eaton.

Looking doubly red and uncomfortable, with these two grave-looking second
classmen present, Flint bent down, attempting to stand on his head in the
bowl of water, while he tried, at the same time to push his feet up the
wall, thus standing on his head. Twice Flint essayed the feat and failed,
splashing a good deal of water over the floor. Then, for the third time,
Flint tried the performance. This time he succeeded, but his two previous
failures had provoked such a storm of laughter that no man present heard
a cautious rap on the door. The next instant that door was flung open and
Lieutenant Preston stepped into the room.

With the entrance of that discipline officer half of the midshipmen
present wheeled about, then, startled as they were, did not forget to
come to attention.

"Hm!" said Lieutenant Preston, at which the other half heard and
came to attention. Flint, whether too scared, or perhaps enjoying
the discomfiture of his tormentors, made no effort to return to
normal position.

"What's your name, sir?" thundered the discipline officer, glaring
fiercely at Midshipman Flint.

"Flint, sir," replied the fourth classman in a gasp.

"Bring your feet down and come to attention, sir!"

Flint obeyed.

During this time Lieutenant Preston had stood so that no midshipman in
the room could slip by him into the corridor.

"I will now take the names of the gentlemen present," went on the
discipline officer, drawing a notebook and pencil from an inner pocket
and commencing to write.

"All except the fourth classmen present will at once fall in by twos
outside," commanded Lieutenant Preston, closing the notebook and slipping
it away. "Midshipmen Flint and Austin will mend their appearances as
speedily as possible and then form the last file outside."

"Wow!" whispered Dan in his chum's ear outside. "Talk about the
fifty-seven varieties! We're in all the pickles!"

"Yes," murmured Dave.

"What are you going to do about it, Davy?"

"Take my medicine," Dave replied.

"But we weren't really in the thing."

"Da