I didn't do anything like that." In another hour indignation was running riot in that division.
Midshipman Clairy had ordered no less than eight first classmen to put themselves on report for offenses that none of them would admit having committed.
Oh, but there was wrath boiling in the quarters occupied by those eight first classmen.
Immediately after release had sounded, Page and Farley made a bee-line for Dave's room.
"Did Clairy wet you, Farley ?" demanded Darrin.
"No; I haven't been out of my room until just now." "Page," continued Darrin, "circulate rapidly in first class rooms on this deck and find out whether Clairy improperly held up any more of the fellows.

Dan was a victim, too." Page had five first classmen on the scene in a few minutes.

The meeting seemed doomed to resolve itself into a turmoil of angry language.
"Clairy is a hound!" "A liar in my case!" "He's hunting a fight!" "Coventry would do him more good." "Yes; we'll have to call the class to deal with this." "The scoundrel!" "The pup!" "He's trying to pile some of us up with so many demerits that we won't be able to graduate." "Oh, well," argued Page, "Fenwick has hit it.

We can't fight such a lying hound.

All we can do is to get the class out and send the fellow to Coventry." "What do you imagine it all means, Darry ?" questioned Fenwick.
Dave's wrath had had time to simmer down, and he was cooler now.
"I wish I knew what to think, fellows," Dave answered slowly.
"Clairy has never shown signs of doing such things before." "He has always been a sulk, and never had a real friend in the class," broke in Farley.
"He has always been quiet and reticent," Dave admitted.