"That's all," said Mr. Merriam, at last. "All of that, at least."
As the three submarine boys rose, each found himself gently held by a pair
of cadet midshipmen. It was a more or less polite hint that the ordeal was
not yet over. Mr. Merriam turned to whisper to one of the cadets, who
darted inside the barracks building. He was back, promptly, carrying a
folded blanket on his arm.
A grin spread over the faces of the assembled cadet midshipmen. The bearer
of the blanket at once unfolded it. As many of the cadets as could got
hold of the edges, bending, holding the blanket spread out over the
ground.
Jack Benson's two captors suddenly hurled him across the length of the
blanket with no gentle force. Instantly the cadets holding the blankets
straightened up, jerking it taut. Up into the air a couple of feet bounded
Jack. As his body came down the cadets holding the blanket gave it a still
harder jerk. This time Jack shot up into the air at least four feet. It
was the same old blanket-tossing, long popular both in the Army and Navy.
Every time Jack landed the blanket was given a harder jerk by those
holding it. Benson began to go higher and higher.
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