ON THE FIELD OF THE CODE
Midshipman Farley had the bad judgment to stop that blow with
the side of his neck.
Across the room he spun, going down in a heap, his head under
the study table.
Dave Darrin looked on with a cool smile, while Farley lay there
for an instant, then scrambled out and up onto his feet.
But two or three other new midshipmen sprang in between Dave and
his accuser.
"We can't have a fight here, Farley," urged two or three in the
same breath.
"Let me at the sneak!" sputtered Farley who was boiling over with
rage.
"Yes; let him at me," voiced Dave coolly, "and I'll send him into
the middle of next term!"
But three of the midshipmen clung to Farley, who furiously strove to
fling them off.
"Let me at him!" insisted the accuser. "He struck me."
"You struck at him first, and didn't land," replied one of the
peacemakers. "You go on with a fight here, and you'll bring the
officer in charge down on us all. Farley, if you feel you've
a grievance you are privileged to take recourse to the regular
code in such matters."
"The fellow has lied about me, and I'm ready to settle it with
him now, or outside by appointment," broke in Dave, speaking as
coolly as before.
"He calls me 'fellow' and 'liar,'" panted Farley, turning white.
"Do you think I can stand that?
"You don't have to," replied one of those who held Farley back.
"Send Darrin a challenge, in the regular way."
"I will!" panted Midshipman Farley. "And I'll hammer him all over
and out of the meeting-place!"
"Then it's settled for a challenge," interposed Dan Dalzell.
"That will suit us all right. We'll be ready whenever the challenge
comes. And now, to prevent getting a lot of decent fellows into
a needless scrape, Darrin and I will withdraw."
Dan took Dave by the arm, and both turned to leave the room.
"You--" began Farley hoarsely, when another midshipman clapped
a hand over his mouth.
"Shut up Farley! Save all of your undoubted grit for the field, when
you two meet."
The door closed softly behind Darrin and Dalzell.
"Why didn't you let me at the sneak?" bellowed Farley, released,
now, from interfering hands.
"See here, Farley," advised one of his friends, "cool down and keep
your face in a restful attitude. Darrin behaved twice as well as
you did. If you don't look out you'll lose the sympathy of the
class. Just keep cool, and restrain your tongue from wagging until
you've met Darrin. Don't try to start the row again, this side of
the field where you meet. If you do, you'll get many a cold shoulder."
Other midshipmen present spoke in the same vein. Farley, who
wanted to be popular at all times, presently allowed himself to
be advised.
Of course the news of the meeting, and of the more emphatic one to
come spread fast through Bancroft Hall. There is an unknown
wireless that carries all such news on wings through the brigade
of midshipmen.
Within half an hour Henkel and Page brought the challenge to Dave
Darrin. Dan, in the meantime, had been busy, and had induced
Midshipman Rollins, of the fourth class, to act with him as second.
Rollins, indeed, needed little urging. He was eager to see the
fight.
Tyson, of the second class, was secured as referee, while Trotter,
of the third class, gladly agreed to act as time-keeper.
The time was set for an hour before taps, as, on this evening,
it would be easy for all the young men involved to slip away and
be back in time for taps.
"I won't let the thing run over two rounds," promised Farley,
who had an excellent idea of himself as a fighter.
That afternoon Dave and Farley were obliged to pass each other.
Dave did not even seem to know that his enemy was around. Farley,
on the other hand, glared ferociously at Darrin as he passed.
Midshipman Trotter certainly would have come around to offer Dave
friendly counsel, had not his position as one of the officials
of the fight restrained him.
Dave, by his prompt action, had veered many of his classmates
around to his side. The bulk of opinion in the class, however,
was that Farley would make good in his boasts of victory. He
was a heavily-built yet very active young man, who had shown great
promise in boxing bouts in the gymnasium.
At half-past eight that evening, while scores of cadets strolled
through the grounds, thinking of the academic term to begin on
the morrow, some little groups made their way more directly across
the grounds. Many interested glances followed them.
Over in the direction of the Old Government Hospital stepped Dave,
accompanied by Dan and Rollins.
They were the first to arrive, though a few minutes later Midshipmen
Tyson and Trotter appeared.
"Farley doesn't seem in as a big hurry as he was," remarked Dan
Dalzell laughingly.
It was not, in fact, until close to the time that Farley, Henkel
and Page came on the scene.
"We want to put this mill through briskly, gentlemen," announced
Midshipman Tyson, in a low tone. "Both principals will be good
enough to get ready as rapidly as possible."
Dave Darrin had been only awaiting the order. Now he took off
his cap and uniform blouse, handing them to Dan, who folded the
coat and laid it on the ground, placing the cap on top of it.
By this time Darrin had pulled his shirt over his head. Dan took
that also, while Rollins produced a belt which Dave strapped about
his waist with care.
Then he stepped forward, like a young war horse, sniffing the
battle.
Farley was more leisurely in his preparations, though he did not
appear nervous. In fact, Farley wasn't a bit nervous. But he
meant "wind up" the fight in such short order that there would
be an abundance of time to spare.
"There's no use in giving you any advice, old fellow," murmured
Dan. "You've been in too many fights, back in the good old High
School days of Dick & Co."
"I can handle myself," nodded Dave, "unless Farley proves to be
a veritable wonder."
"He certainly thinks he is," warned Rollins. "And a good many
of the fellows believe Farley to be the best man of the class
in this line of work."
"They won't think so much longer," returned Dan, as simply as
though merely stating a proved fact. "You see, Rollins, you never
had the great good luck to get your kid training with Dick & Co.
Our old crowd always went in to win just because we were blind
to the idea that there was any possible chance of losing."
"Did you always make good?" asked Rollins curiously.
"Just about always, I reckon," nodded Dan confidently.
"You must have been a wonder-bunch then," smiled Rollins.
Farley was ready, now, and coming forward with a second on either
side of him.
"Step in Dave old fellow." directed Dan.
Dave came forward to where Midshipman Tyson awaited them.
"Gentlemen," announced the referee, "this is to be a fight to
the finish, bare hands. As time is short you are urged to mix
it up briskly to a conclusion. The usual ring rules will guide
the officials of this meeting. Hand-shaking will dispensed with.
Are you ready?"
"Ready!" hissed Farley venomously.
"Ready," nodded Dave coolly.
"Time!"
With a yell Farley leaped in. He didn't want it to last more
than one round, if it could be helped.
The fury of his assault drove the lighter Darrin back. Farley
followed up with more sledge-hammers. He was certainly a dangerous
man, with a hurricane style. He was fast and heavy, calculated
to bear down a lighter opponent.
Before that assortment of blows Dave Darrin was forced to resort
to footwork.
"Stand up and fight!" jeered Farley harshly as he wheeled and
wheeled, still throwing out his hammer blows. "Don't play sneak
on the field!"
Dave didn't even flush. Trained with Dick Prescott at Gridley
High School, Darrin was too old a hand to be taunted into indiscretion.
In spite of his footwork, however, Farley succeeded in landing
upon him twice, though neither blow did much damage.
Then a third blow landed, against the side of Darrin's head, that
jarred him. It was all he could do to stand off Farley until
he recovered his wits enough to dodge once more.
Yet, all the while, Darrin was watching his chance.