Home > Authors Index > H. Irving Hancock > Dave Darrin's Fourth Year at Annapolis > This page
Dave Darrin's Fourth Year at Annapolis, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
||
Chapter 17. Mr. Clairy Deals In Outrages |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XVII. MR. CLAIRY DEALS IN OUTRAGES "Mr. Darrin!" With that hail proceeded sharply from the lips of a first classman, who on this evening happened to be the midshipman in charge of the floor. Clairy sat at his desk in the corridor, his eyes on a novel until Dave happened along. As he gave the sharp hail Mr. Clairy thrust his novel under a little pile of text-books. "Well, sir?" inquired Dave, halting. "Mr. Darrin, what do you mean by coming down the corridor with both shoes unlaced." "They are not unlaced," retorted Dave, staring in amazement at Midshipman Clairy. "They are not now---true." "And they haven't been unlaced, sir, since I first laced them on rising this morning." "Don't toy with the truth, Mr. Darrin!" rang Clairy's voice sternly. "If my shoes had been unlaced, they would still be unlaced, wouldn't they, sir?" demanded Dave. "No; for you have laced them since I spoke to you about it!" This was entirely too much for Darrin, who gulped, gasped, and then stared again at the midshipman in charge of the floor. Then, suddenly, a light dawned on Dave. He grinned almost as broadly as Dan Dalzell could have done. "Come, come, now, Clairy!" chided Dave. "What on earth is the joke---and why?" Midshipman Clairy straightened himself, his eyes flashing and his whole appearance one of intense dignity. "Mr. Darrin, there is no joke about it, as you are certainly aware, sir. And I must call your attention to the fact that it is bad taste to address a midshipman familiarly when he is on official duty." "Why, hang you---" Dave broke forth utterly aghast. "Stop, sir!" commanded Mr. Clairy, rising. "Mr. Darrin, you will place yourself on report for strolling along the corridor with both shoes unlaced. You will also place yourself on report for impertinence in answering the midshipman in charge of the floor." "But-----" "Go at once, sir, and place yourself on report" Dave meditated, for two or three seconds, over the advisability of knocking Mr. Clairy down. But familiarity with the military discipline of the Naval Academy immediately showed Darrin that his only present course was to obey. "I wonder who's loony now?" hummed Dave to himself, as he marched briskly along on his way to the office of the officer in charge. There be picked up two of the report slips, dipping a pen in ink. First, in writing, he reported himself on the charge of having his shoes unlaced. In the space for remarks Darrin wrote tersely: "Untrue." Against the charge of unwarranted impertinence to the midshipman in charge of the floor Dave wrote the words: "Impertinence admitted, but in my opinion entirely warranted." So utterly astounded was Darrin by this queer turn of affairs, that he forgot the matter that had taken him from his room. On his way back he met Midshipman Page. On the latter's face was a look as black as a thundercloud. "What on earth is wrong, Page?" Darrin asked. "I've got the material for a first-class fight on my hands," Page answered, his eyes flashing. "What---" "Clairy has ordered me to report myself." "What does he say you were doing that you weren't doing?" inquired Midshipman Darrin, a curious look in his eyes. "Clairy has the nerve to state that I was coming along the corridor with my blouse unbuttoned. He ordered me to button it up, which I couldn't do since it was already buttoned. But he declared that I buttoned it up while facing him, and so I'm on my way to place myself on report for an offense that I didn't commit." "Clairy just sent me to the O.C. to frap the pap for having my shoes unlaced," remarked Dave, his face flushing darkly. "What on earth is Clairy up to?" cried Page. "I don't know. I can't see his game clearly. But he's certainly hunting trouble." "Then-----" "See here, Page, we've no business holding indignation meetings in study hours. But come to my room just as soon as release sounds---will you?" "You can wager that I will," shot back Midshipman Page as he started along the corridor. "Hello," hailed Midshipman Dalzell, looking up as his chum entered. "Why, Darry, you're angry---really angry. Who has dared throw spitballs at you?" "Quit your joking, Dan!" returned Dave Darrin, his voice quivering. "Clairy is hunting real trouble, I imagine, and I fancy he'll have to be obliged." Dave thereupon related swiftly what had happened, Dan staring in sheer amazement. Then Dalzell jumped up. "Where are you going?" Darrin answered. "To interview Clairy." "You'd better not, Dan. The trouble is thick enough already." "I'm going to interview Clairy---perhaps," retorted Midshipman Dalzell. "I've just thought of a perfectly good excuse for being briefly out of quarters during study hours. I'll be back soon---perhaps with some news." Off Dan posted. In less than ten minutes he returned, looking even more indignant than had his chum. "Davy," broke forth Dalzell hotly, "that idiot is surely hunting all the trouble there is in Annapolis." "He went after you, then?" "I was making believe to march straight by the fellow's desk," resumed Dan, "when Clairy brought me up sharply. Told me to frap the pap for strolling with my hands in my pockets. I didn't do anything like that." In another hour indignation was running riot in that division. Midshipman Clairy had ordered no less than eight first classmen to put themselves on report for offenses that none of them would admit having committed. Oh, but there was wrath boiling in the quarters occupied by those eight first classmen. Immediately after release had sounded, Page and Farley made a bee-line for Dave's room. "Did Clairy wet you, Farley?" demanded Darrin. "No; I haven't been out of my room until just now." "Page," continued Darrin, "circulate rapidly in first class rooms on this deck and find out whether Clairy improperly held up any more of the fellows. Dan was a victim, too." Page had five first classmen on the scene in a few minutes. The meeting seemed doomed to resolve itself into a turmoil of angry language. "Clairy is a hound!" "A liar in my case!" "He's hunting a fight!" "Coventry would do him more good." "Yes; we'll have to call the class to deal with this." "The scoundrel!" "The pup!" "He's trying to pile some of us up with so many demerits that we won't be able to graduate." "Oh, well," argued Page, "Fenwick has hit it. We can't fight such a lying hound. All we can do is to get the class out and send the fellow to Coventry." "What do you imagine it all means, Darry?" questioned Fenwick. Dave's wrath had had time to simmer down, and he was cooler now. "I wish I knew what to think, fellows," Dave answered slowly. "Clairy has never shown signs of doing such things before." "He has always been a sulk, and never had a real friend in the class," broke in Farley. "He has always been quiet and reticent," Dave admitted. "But we never before had any real grievance against Mr. Clairy." "We have a grievance now, all right!" glowered Page. "Coventry, swift and tight, is the only answer to the situation." "Let's not be in too much haste, fellows," Darrin urged. "You---you give such advice as that?" gasped Midshipman Dalzell. "Why, Davy, the fellow went for you in fearful shape. He insulted you outrageously." "I know he did," Darrin responded. "That's why I believe in going slowly in the matter." "Now, why?" hissed Page. "Why on earth---why?" "Clairy must have had some motive behind his attack," Dave urged. "It couldn't have been a good motive, anyway," broke in another midshipman hotly. "Never mind that part of it, just now," Dave Darrin retorted. "Fellows, I, for one, don't like to go after Mr. Clairy too hastily while we're all in doubt about the cause of it." "We don't need to know the cause," stormed indignant Farley. "We know the results, and that's enough for us. I favor calling a class meeting to-morrow night." "We can do just as much, and act just as intelligently, if we hold the class-meeting off for two or three nights," Midshipman Darrin maintained. "Now, why on earth should we bold off that long?" insisted Fenwick. "We know, now, that Mr. Clairy has insulted eight members of our class. We know that he has lied about them, and that the case is so bad as to require instant attention. All I'm sorry for is that it's too late to hold the class meeting within the next five minutes." Dave found even his own roommate opposed to delay in dealing with the preposterous case of the outrageous Mr. Clairy. Yet such was Darrin's ascendency over his classmates in matters of ethics and policy, that he was able, before taps, to bring the rest around to his wish for a waiting programme for two or three days. "There'll be some explanation of this," Dave urged, when he had gotten his comrades into a somewhat more reasonable frame of mind. "The explanation will have to be sought with fists," grumbled Fenwick. "And there are eight of us, while Clairy has only two eyes that can be blackened." The news had spread, of course, and the first class was in a fury of resentment against one of its own members. Meanwhile Midshipman Clairy sat at his desk out in the corridor, clearly calm and indifferent to all the turmoil that his acts had stirred up in the brigade. _ |
||