"You spiked my only chance to dance with Miss Meade." "You're wrong there," retorted Dave coldly and truthfully "I didn't." "Then how did it happen ?" "I can't discuss that with you," Darrin rejoined.

"I didn't make any effort, though, to spoil your chance of a dance with the young lady." "Mr.Darrin, I don't choose to believe you, sir!" Dave's face went crimson, then pale.
"Do you realize what you're saying, Mr.Treadwell ?" "Of course"-- sneeringly.
"Are you trying to pick trouble with me ?" demanded Dave, his eyes flashing with spirit.
"I repeat that I don't choose to believe your explanation, sir." "Then you pass me the lie ?" "As you prefer to consider it," jeered the first classman.
"Oh, very good, then, Mr.Treadwell," retorted Dave, eyeing the first classman and sizing him up.
Treadwell was one of the biggest men, physically, in the brigade.

He was also one of the noted fighters of his class.

Beside Treadwell, Midshipman Darrin did not size up at all advantageously.
"If you do not retract what you just said," pursued Dave Darrin, growing cooler now that he realized the deliberate nature of the affront that had been put upon him, "I shall have no choice but to send my friends to you." "Delighted to see them, at any time," replied the first classman, turning disdainfully upon his heel and strolling away.
"Now, why on earth does that fellow deliberately pick a fight with me ?" wondered Darrin, as he strolled along by himself.

"Treadwell can thump me.