MR.

CLAIRY DEALS IN OUTRAGES "Mr.Darrin!" With that hail proceeded sharply from the lips of a first classman, who on this evening happened to be the midshipman in charge of the floor.
Clairy sat at his desk in the corridor, his eyes on a novel until Dave happened along.

As he gave the sharp hail Mr.Clairy thrust his novel under a little pile of text-books.
"Well, sir ?" inquired Dave, halting.

"Mr.Darrin, what do you mean by coming down the corridor with both shoes unlaced." "They are not unlaced," retorted Dave, staring in amazement at Midshipman Clairy.
"They are not now---true." "And they haven't been unlaced, sir, since I first laced them on rising this morning." "Don't toy with the truth, Mr.Darrin!" rang Clairy's voice sternly.
"If my shoes had been unlaced, they would still be unlaced, wouldn't they, sir ?" demanded Dave.
"No; for you have laced them since I spoke to you about it!" This was entirely too much for Darrin, who gulped, gasped, and then stared again at the midshipman in charge of the floor.
Then, suddenly, a light dawned on Dave.

He grinned almost as broadly as Dan Dalzell could have done.
"Come, come, now, Clairy!" chided Dave.