I want him to stay over in hospital until there's no chance whatever that he'll have to wear an ugly scar through life." It was three evenings later when Midshipman David Darrin returned to his own quarters in Bancroft Hall.

By this time the surface wound on his face was healing nicely, and with ordinary care he would soon be without sign of scar.
"Pills (the surgeon) told me that I'll have to be careful and not let anything bump this face for days to come," remarked Dave, pointing to the strip of adhesive plaster that neatly covered his injury.
"Well, you don't need to bump anything," replied Dan quietly.

"Hepson wants you on the gridiron the worst way, but he has told me that he won't even allow you to get into togs until Pills has certified that you're fit to play." "It's tough," sighed Dave, then quietly began his studies.
It is a rare proceeding to send a midshipman to Coventry; a step that is never taken save for the gravest reasons.

Dan, having fought, did not feel it necessary to bring Jetson's case before a class meeting, and Jetson escaped Coventry.

He was not cut, yet he soon discovered that the average classmate paid no more heed to him than appeared to be necessary for courtesy's sake.
After another week "Pills" consented to Dave Darrin's going out for regular gridiron practice.