"You will still keep command of your crew, Mr.Darrin.

And you will be expected to see that these first class men are most thoroughly grounded in the boat drill.

Do no spare any of them in the least because they are upper class men." "Very good, sir," Darrin answered, saluting.
Midshipman Henley was one of the four assigned to Dave's crew.
There was a deep scowl on Henley's face when he reported for the first boat drill under a plebe crew captain.
As the boat was pushed off, after the crew had embarked, Darrin was alert only to his duty as the man in charge of the boat.
Before the boat had gone a hundred yard Dave called crisply: "Number four, handle your oar with more energy and precision! "Don't get too stiff, mister," growled Midshipman Henley.
Darrin returned the black look coolly.
"Number four, when addressing the crew captain, you will employ the word, 'sir.' And you will pay strict attention to criticisms of your work." "Beats all how these plebes think they're men!" growled Mr.Henley disgustedly, without looking at Dave.
"No talking in the crew," called Dave Henley subsided, for he had been trained to habits of obedience.
Had the man in command been a member of his own class there would have been no trouble whatever, but Henley resented being at the orders of a fourth class man.
"Number four, you are lounging," rebuked Darrin quietly, but firmly.
"Correct your deportment, sir." Dave gazed so steadily at Midshipman Henley that the latter, though he colored, took a more seamanlike attitude for a while.

Bitter thoughts, however, were seething in the mind of this first class man.

After a few minutes Henley again struck his improper attitude.
"Mr.Henley, upon your return put yourself on the report for taking an unseamanlike attitude after having been once corrected," directed Dave, in a businesslike tone.
The hot blood leaped to Henley's face and temples.