"Now, what are you butting in for, you greasy greaser?" demanded
Farley, giving Dave a contemptuous glance. "Maybe you won't join
us, and maybe we'd just as soon not have as greasy a midshipman
as you at the festive board, but Dalzell isn't tied to your apron
strings, are you, Dalzell?"

"No; he's not," replied Darrin, speaking for his chum. "Dalzell
will speak for himself, if he insists. But he and I have been
chums these many years, and we've often given each other good
advice in trying or tempting times. Dalzell will go with you,
if he cares to, for he already knows all that I have to say on
the subject."

"You've had your nose stuck down deep in the grease-pot ever since
you struck Annapolis!" cried Farley angrily. "I hope you bilge,
Darrin; with all my heart I hope you bilge soon. We don't need
a mollycoddle like you here in the Naval Academy!"

"Isn't that about all you want to say?" demanded Dave, looking
up with a frown.

"No; it's not half what I have to say," cried Farley hotly. "Darrin,
your kind of fellow is a disgrace to the Naval service! You're
a sneak--that's what--"

"You may stop, right there!" frowned Darrin, rising from his chair.

"I'll stop when I'm proper ready!" retorted Farley hotly.