a column and a half, in all reminding his
readers that Midshipman Darrin was one of a recently famous sextette
of Gridley High School athletes who had been famous as Dick &
Co. Not only did Dave receive a flattering amount of praise in
print. Dan came in for a lot of pleasant notice also.

Dave received a marked copy of that issue of the "Blade." He
fairly shivered as he read through that column and a half.

"Danny boy," shuddered Darrin, passing the "Blade" over to his
roommate, "read this awful stuff. Then help me to destroy this
paper!"

Dan Dalzell read the column and a half, and reddened, grinning
in a sickly sort of way.

"Just awful, isn't it?" demanded Midshipman Dalzell.

"Awful?" muttered Darrin uneasily. "Why that doesn't begin to
describe it. If any upper class man should see that paper--"

"He won't see this copy," proclaimed Dan, beginning to tear the
offending issue of the "Blade" into small bits.

In the parlance of Annapolis the newspaper from a midshipman's
home town is known as the "Bazoo." Now, the "Bazoo" has an average
inclination to print very flattering remarks about the local
representative at Annapolis. While the home editor always means this
as pleasant service, the detection of flattering articles by any
upper class man at Annapolis always means unpleasant times for the
poor plebe who has been thus honored in the columns of the "Bazoo."

The torn bits of the Gridley "Blade" were carefully disposed of,
but Dave still shivered. Through a clipping agency, or in some
other mysterious way, upper class men frequently get hold of the
"Bazoo."

Four days passed, and nothing happened out of the usual.

On the evening of the fifth day, just after the release bell had
rung, there was a brief knock at the door. Then that barrier
flew open.

Midshipmen Jones, Hulburt and Heath of the second class filed
gravely into the room, followed by Midshipmen Healy, Brooks, Denton,
Trotter and Paulson of the third class.

Dave and Dan quickly rose to their feet, standing at attention
facing their visitors.

With a tragic air, as if he were an executioner present in his
official capacity, Youngster Paulson held out a folded newspaper.

"Mister," he ordered Darrin, "receive this foul sheet. Unfold
it, mister. Now, mister, what depraved sheet do you hold in your
hands?"

"The Gridley 'Blade', sir," replied Darrin, his face crimsoning.

"The--_what_, mister?"

"Pardon me, sir--the Gridl