"That rap was the signal of the approach of the O.C." Farley was industriously brushing the signs of dust from Jetson's uniform.
"I tell you, fellows," boomed Hepson's tranquil, earnest voice, "we've got to hustle every minute of practice time.

Nothing else will give us a chance to win." "We haven't even a chance if Darry isn't soon back on the gridiron," argued Farley.
"Oh, he'll be all right soon," broke in Dan Dalzell eagerly.
Joyce had already stepped into the room, leaving the door open.

Now, as though by instinct, the midshipmen seemed aware that the O.C., who to-day happened to be Lieutenant Cotton, U.S.N., was standing in front of the doorway gazing in.
Instantly the middies came to the position of attention, looking straight ahead of them.
"Good evening, gentlemen," greeted the O.C.

"Is anything unusual going on ?" "We have been discussing the football situation, sir," announced Midshipman Hepson quite truthfully.
Had Hepson been asked if there had recently been a fight in progress he would have answered truthfully, but he did not feel called upon to volunteer damaging information.
"I thought I heard sounds as of some disturbance," remarked the O.C., looking at the young men rather sharply.

"That is to say, I was under the impression that there had been some unusual agility in operation.