A reply came back that Dave might report to him at once.
"This is my report, sir," Dave announced, Dave was about to turn on his heel and leave the room, when Lieutenant Cantor stopped him with: "Wait a few moments, if you please, Darrin.

I wish to run hastily through your report." Declining the offer of a chair, Darrin remained standing stiffly.
As he went through the report, Cantor frowned several times.
At last he laid the signed sheets down on his desk.
"Darrin," asked the division commander, "do you realize that you are out of place in the Navy ?" "I do not, sir," Dave answered, coldly.
"Well, you are," pursued Lieutenant Cantor.

"With your talents you should engage in writing the most improbable kinds of romances." "That report is true in every respect, sir," Dave frowned.
"It appears to me to be a most improbable report---as highly improbable as any official report that I have ever seen." "The report is true in every detail," repeated Dave, his face flushing.
Lieutenant Cantor rose from his desk, facing his angry subordinate.
"You lie!" he declared, coldly.
"You cur!" Dave Darrin hissed back, his wrath now at white heat.
Instantly he launched a blow full at Cantor's face.

The lieutenant warded it off.
Within three or four seconds several blows were aimed on both sides, without landing, for both were excellent boxers.
Then Dave drove in under Cantor's guard with his left hand, while with his right fist he struck the lieutenant a blow full on the face that sent him reeling backward.
Clutching wildly, Cantor seized a chair, carrying it over with himself as he landed on the floor.
In an instant Lieutenant Cantor was on his feet, brandishing the chair aloft.
"Ensign Darrin," he cried, "you have made the error of striking a superior officer when on duty!".