"You are trying to evade the fact that you are the real Darrin,
the identical hero whom the 'Bazoo' so lovingly, so reverently
describes. Deceit fills your system, mister! You will stand
on your head long enough to let it run out of you."

Midshipman Paulson, though an inveterate "runner" of fourth class
men, had some regard for the dangers of overstaying the visit, and
kept his left eye on the time.

Darrin, standing on his head, became redder of face than ever,
for all the blood in his body seemed to be running downward.
At last he became so unsteady that twice his feet slipped along
the wall, and he had to return to his attitude of standing on
his head.

"Better let up on the beast, Paulson," murmured Midshipman Brooks.

"Yes," agreed Paulson. "The warning bell will go in a minute
more. Mister, on your feet!"

Dave promptly returned to normal attitude, standing respectfully
at attention.

"Mister," continued Paulson, "you will be allowed to retain this
marked copy of the 'Bazoo.' You are warned to keep it out of sight,
ordinarily, that none of the discipline officers may find it.
But you will continue to refer to it several times daily, until
you are sure that you have committed all of the marked paragraphs
to heart, so that you can reel them off in song or in declamation.
And you will be prepared, at all times, to favor any of the upper
class men with these selections, whenever called for. Good night,
mister!

"Good night, sir."

Dave returned the salutations of each of the departing visitors.
Just as Brooks, the last of the lot, was passing through the
doorway, the warning bell before taps sounded.

For a moment Dave Darrin, his face still red, stood behind the
closed door, shaking his fist after the departing visitors.

"Why didn't you shake your fist while they were in the room?" asked
Dalzell bluntly.

"That would have started a fight, as the least consequence," replied
Dave, more soberly.

"A fight, eh?" chuckled Dan. "Dave, I don't know what has come
over you lately. There was a time when you didn't mind fights."

"I have fought three times since coming here," Darrin replied
soberly.

"And I have fought seven times," retorted Dan.

"Puzzle: Guess which one of us was found the fresher," laughed
Darrin.

"I never thought you'd stand anything such as you've endured at
Annapolis, without pounding your way through thick ranks of fighters,"
mused Dalzell aloud. "Dave, I can't fath