Annapolis is at least as good a marking as 90 per cent
would be in a High School.

"Good old Dave leaks too slow at the spout, does he?" chuckled
Dan to himself, as he waited at parade rest. "When it comes my
turn, then, as I happen to know my problem as well as the fellow
who wrote the book, I'll rattle off my explanation at a gait that
will force the lieutenant to stand on his feet to hear all I say."

Dalzell was the fourth man called upon at the blackboard.

Taking a deep breath, and assuming a tremendously earnest look,
Dan plunged into the demonstration of his problem as fast as he
could fire the words out.

Lieutenant Bradshaw, however, listened through to the end.

"Your demonstration is correct, Mr Dalzell," said the instructor
quietly. "However while speed in recitation is of value, in the
future try to speak just a little more slowly and much more distinctly.
You are fitting yourself to become a Naval officer one of these
days. On shipboard it is of the utmost importance that an officer's
voice be always distinct and clear, in order that every word he
utters may be instantly understood. Try to keep this always in
mind, Mr. Dalzell, and cultivate the habit of speaking distinctly."

The rebuke was a very quiet one, and courteously given. But Dan,
who knew that every other man in the section was grinning in secret
over his discomfiture, was quickly losing his nerve.

Then, without favor, Lieutenant Bradshaw questioned Dan searchingly
on other details of the day's work. Dan stammered, and forgot
much that he had thought he knew.

Lieutenant Bradshaw set down a mark of 2.9, whereas Dalzell, had
he stuck sensibly to the business in hand, would have been marked
as high as Dave had been.

As the section was marching back to Bancroft Dan whispered:

"Dave, did you hear the old owl go 'too-whoo' at me in the section
room?"

"Stop talking in section!" ordered Dave crisply.

"Blazes! There isn't a single spot at Annapolis where a fellow
can take a chance on being funny!" muttered Dalzell under his breath.

"Dave, old chum," cried Dan tossing his cap on the bed as they
entered their room. "Are you going to turn greaser, and stay greaser?"

"What do you mean?" asked Darrin quietly.

"You told me to shut up in the ranks."

"That was right, wasn't it? I am under orders to see that there
is no talking in the section when marching."

"Not even a solitary, teeny little word, eh?"

"Not if I can