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Dave Darrin's First Year at Annapolis, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 11. Midshipman Henkel Does Some Thinking |
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_ CHAPTER XI. MIDSHIPMAN HENKEL DOES SOME THINKING "Busy" asked Midshipman Henkel, of the fourth class, stepping into the room which Farley and Page shared. The release bell had just sounded, giving all of the young men a brief interval of freedom before taps. "Not especially," laughed Farley, as he finished stacking his books and papers neatly. It was about a week after the night of Dan's fight with Midshipman Quimby. "Let me get a good look at your face, Farley, under the light," continued Henkel. "Why, it looks almost natural again. My, but it was a rough pounding that fellow, Darrin, gave it!" "Yes," nodded Farley, flushing. "Let me see; isn't it about time that you squared matters up with Darrin?" went on Midshipman Henkel. "How? What do you mean?" demanded Farley, while Page, too, looked on with interest. "Well, first of all, Darrin gets the whole bunch of us ragged by the watchman. The when you object, he pounds your face at his own sweet will." "What are you trying to do?" laughed Farley. "Are you trying to fan up the embers of my wrath against Darrin?" "Such embers shouldn't need much fanning," retorted Mr. Henkel coolly. "Surely, you are not going to let the dead dog lie?" "Darrin and I fought the matter out, and he had the good fortune to win the appeal to force," replied Plebe Farley stiffly. "I don't associate with him now, and don't expect to, later on, if we both graduate into the Navy." "That satisfies your notions of honor, does it, with regard to a man who not only injured you, but pounded your face to a fearful pulp?" Henkel's tone as he put the question, was one of bitter irony. "Do you know," demanded Farley, rising, his face now flushing painfully, "I don't wholly like your tone." "Forget it, then," begged Henkel. "I don't mean to be offensive to you, Farley. I haven't the least thought in the world like that. But I take this whole Darrin business so bitterly to heart that I suppose I am unable to comprehend how you can be so meek about it." "Meek?" cried Farley. "What do you mean by that word?" "Well, see here," went on Henkel coaxingly, "are we men of spirit, or are we not? We fellows devise a little outing in the town of Annapolis. It's harmless enough, though it happens to be against the rules in the little blue book. We are indiscreet enough to let Darrin in on the trick, and he pipes the whole lay off to some one. Result--we are 'ragged' and fifty 'dems.' apiece. When you accuse Darrin of his mean work he gives you the lie. True, you show spirit enough to fight him for it, but the fight turns out to be simply more amusement for him. Now, I've been thinking over this thing and I can't rest until the mean work is squared. But I find you, who suffered further indignities under Darrin's fists, quite content to let the matter rest. That's why I am astonished, and why I say so frankly." Having delivered this harangue with an air of patient justice, Henkel seated himself with one leg thrown over the edge of the study table, waiting to hear what Farley could say in reply. "Well, what do you plan to do further in the matter?" insisted Midshipman Farley. "To get square with Darrin!" "How?" "Well, now see here, Farley, and you, too, Page, what has happened? At first we had the class pretty sore against Darrin for getting our crowd ragged. Since the fight, however, in which you were pummeled like--" "Never mind my fate in the fight," interposed Farley. "It was a fair fight." "Well, ever since the fight," resumed Henkel, "Darrin has been climbing up again in class favor. Most of the boobies in the fourth class seem to feel that, just because Darrin hammered you so, the beating you received proves Darrin's innocence of a mean act." "I can't help what the class concludes," retorted Farley stiffly. "Page, you have more spirit than that, haven't you?" demanded Henkel, wheeling upon Midshipman Farley's roommate. "I hope I have spirit enough," replied Page, bridling slightly, "but I am aware of one big lack." "What is that?" "I seem to lack the keen intelligence needed to understand what you are driving at, Henkel." "That's the point, Henkel," broke in Midshipman Farley, walking the floor in short turns. "Just what are you driving at? Why are you trying to make me mad by such frequent references to the fact that Darrin won his fight with me?" "I'm sounding you fellows," admitted Henkel. "That's just what it rings like," affirmed Midshipman Page, nodding his head. "Well, out with it! What's your real proposition?" "Are you with me?" asked Midshipman Henkel warily. "How can we tell," demanded Farley impatiently, "until you come down out of the thunder clouds, and tell us just what you mean?" "Pshaw, fellows," remarked Mr. Henkel, in exasperation, "I hate to think it, but I am beginning to wonder if you two have the amount of spirit with which I had always credited you." "Cut out the part about the doubts," urged Farley, "and tell us, in plain English, just what you are driving at." "Fellows, I believe, then," explained Midshipman Henkel, "that we owe it to ourselves, to the Naval Academy and to the Navy, to work Dave Darrin out of here as soon as we can." "How?" challenged Farley flatly. "Why, can't we put up some scheme that will pile up the 'dems.' against that industrious greaser? Can't we spring a game that will wipe all his grease-marks off the efficiency slate?" asked Midshipman Henkel mysteriously. "Do you mean by putting up a job on Darrin?" inquired Page. "That's just it!" nodded Henkel, with emphasis. "Putting up a job on a man usually calls for trickery, doesn't it?" questioned Farley. "Why, yes--that is--er--ingenuity," admitted Henkel. "Trickery isn't the practice of a gentleman, is it?" insisted Farley. "It has to be, sometimes, when we are fighting a rascal," retorted Midshipman Henkel. "I'm afraid I don't see that," rejoined Page, shaking his head. "Dirty work is never excusable. I'd sooner let a fellow seem to win over me, for the time being, than to resort to trickery or anything like underhanded methods for getting even with him." "Good for you, Page!" nodded Farley "That's the whole game for a gentleman--and that's what either a midshipman or a Naval officer is required to be. Henkel, old fellow, you are a little too hot under your blouse collar tonight. Wait until you've cooled off, and you'll sign in with us on our position." "Then you fellows are going to play the meek waiting game with Darrin, are you?" sneered Henkel. "We're going to play the only kind of game that a gentleman may play," put in Page incisively, "and we are not going to dally with any game about which a gentleman need feel the least doubt." "You've spoken for me, Page, old chap," added Farley. Midshipman Henkel took his leg off the desk, stood there for a moment, eyeing his two comrades half sneeringly, then turned on his heel and left the room. Just before he closed the door after him Henkel called back: "Good night, fellows." "Well, what do you think of that?" demanded Farley, a moment later. "I think," replied Midshipman Page, "just as you do, that Darrin, in his desire to bone grease somewhere, played a dirty trick on us. I consider Darrin to be no better than a dog, and I apologize to the dog. But we're not going to make dogs of ourselves in order to even up matters." "We're certainly not," replied Farley, with a nod. "Oh, well, Henkel is a mighty good fellow, at heart. He'll cool down and come around all right." At that instant, however, Midshipman Henkel, with a deep scowl on his face, was whispering mysteriously with his roommate Brimmer. _ |
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