ength of the
blanket with no gentle force. Instantly the cadets holding the
blankets straightened up, jerking it taut. Up into the air a couple
of feet bounded Jack. As his body came down the cadets holding the
blanket gave it a still harder jerk. This time Jack shot up into the
air at least four feet. It was the same old blanket-tossing, long
popular both in the Army and Navy. Every time Jack landed the blanket
was given a harder jerk by those holding it. Benson began to go
higher and higher.

And now the cadets broke into a low, monotonous chant, in time to
their movements. It ran:

_Sir, sir, surcingle!_

_Sir, sir, circle!_

_Sir, sir, with a shingle--_

_Sir, sir, sir!_

As regular as drumbeats the cadets ripped out the syllables of the
refrain. At each word Jack Benson's body shot higher and higher.
These young men were experts in the gentle art of blanket-tossing. Ere
long the submarine boy was going up into the air some eight or nine feet
at every tautening of the blanket.

As for escape, that was out of the question. No sooner did the submarine
boy touch the blanket than he shot skyward again. Had he desired to he
could not have called out. The motion and the sudden jolts shook all
the breath out of him.

"Ugh! Hm! Pleasant, isn't it?" uttered Hal Hastings, grimly, under
his breath.

"If they try to do that to me," whispered Eph, hotly, under his breath,
"I'll fight."

"More simpleton you, then!" Hal shot back at him in warning. "What
chance do you think you stand against a crowd like this?"

Just as suddenly as it had begun the blanket tossing stopped. Yet,
hardly had Jack been allowed to step out than Hal Hastings was
unceremoniously dropped athwart the blanket. The tossing began again,
to the chant of:

_Sir, sir, surcingle!_

_Sir, sir, circle!_

Right plentifully were these cadet midshipmen avenging themselves for
having had to say "sir" to these young submarine boys that day.

"Woof!" breathed Jack, as soon as breath entered his body again. Eph
clenched his fists tightly, as Hal continued to go higher and higher.
But at last Hastings's ordeal was over.

"I suppose they'll try that on me!" gritted Eph Somers to himself. "If
they do--"

That was far as he got, for Eph was suddenly flung upon the blanket.

_Sir, sir, surcingle!_

Then how Eph _did_ go up and down! It was as though these cadet
midshipmen knew that it would make Eph mad, madder, maddest! These