"Talk about the fifty-seven varieties! We're in all the pickles!" "Yes," murmured Dave.
"What are you going to do about it, Davy ?" "Take my medicine," Dave replied.
"But we weren't really in the thing." "Danny boy, never get out of a thing, or try to, by playing cry baby!" "No danger," retorted Dalzell.

"David, little giant, we'll just console ourselves with the realization that we're in the worst scrape we ever struck yet." "Yes," nodded Dave.
Fourth classmen Flint and Austin were not long in making themselves presentable.

Then they fell in at the rear of the line.
"Squad, forward march!" commanded the discipline officer dryly.
Through the corridor and off that deck the little squad of thirteen midshipmen marched.

Never had thirteen been more unlucky, for the present superintendent was known to be a man determined to stamp out hazing.
Nor did the affair remain a secret for more than a moment Midshipmen returning to their own decks stepped to the wall to let the squad pass.
Nor was more than a look at the two rear fourth classmen needed to enable any wondering midshipmen to guess the nature of the offense with which the remaining eleven upper classmen were to be charged.
"Our Darry in that!" gasped Farley, as the squad went by.

"Did you see him ?" "Yes," Page mournfully admitted.
"Then my eyes didn't play me any trick, as I had hoped.