through the ordeal.

"Now, cast your eye on the paragraph marked as number two," directed
Mr. Paulson. "Mister, the 'Bazoo' in your left hand. Thrust
your right hand in under the front of your blouse and strike the
attitude popularly ascribed to Daniel Webster. No comedy, either,
mister; give us a serious impersonation, sir!"

This was surely rubbing it in, but Dave gave his best in attitude
and pose.

"Effective!" murmured Midshipman Jones. "Very!

"Superb!" voiced Mr. Hurlburt.

"Now, for the declamation, mister, of paragraph number two," commanded
Youngster Paulson.

In a deep voice, and with a ring that was meant to be convincing,
Dave read the paragraph:

_"Since a school consists of pupils as well as of instructors,
the brightest student minds may be said to make the life and history
of a famous school. It has been so with our justly famous Gridley
High School. Mr. Darrin, in the past, has aided in establishing
many of the traditions of the famous school that claims him as
her own son. The young man's heroism at Annapolis, under the
most exacting conditions, will surprise no one who knows either
Mr. Darrin or the splendid traditions that he helped establish
among the youth of his home town. In the years to come we may
look confidently forward to hearing the name of Darrin as one
of the most famous among the newer generation of the United States
Navy. David Darrin will always be a hero--because he cannot
help it."_

As Dave, his face flushing more hotly than ever, read through these
lines he was conscious of the jeering gaze of the upper class men.
He was interrupted, at times, by cries of fervid but mock admiration.

"I feel," announced Mr. Hurlburt, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief,
"that I am indeed honored in being one of the humbler students
at this great school on which our beloved comrade has shed the
luster of his presence."

"It seems almost profane to look at such a young man, except through
smoked glasses," protested Midshipman Heath.

"What's your name, mister?" demanded Midshipman Brooks.

"Darrin, sir," Dave answered, with the becoming meekness of a
fourth class man.

"Any relative of the Darrin mentioned in the elegy you have just
been reading?"

"I hope not, sir," replied Dave, fighting to stifle a grin, though
it was a sheepish one.

"Mister," stormed Midshipman Denton, "you are attempting to deceive
us!"

Dave gazed meekly but inquiringly at the last speaker.