Dave Darrin's Second Year at Annapolis Part 7

"Heistand's orders are mine, Mr. Dalzell," continued the lieutenant-commander, facing Dan. "Preserve order in your section."

"Aye, aye, sir," replied Dan, saluting. Acknowledging this courtesy in kind, the chief engineer turned and left the furnace room.

Heistand was presumably of German parentage, though he had no accent. He struck the midshipmen as being a pleasant, wholesome fellow, though the water tenders and firemen of the "Ma.s.sachusetts" knew that he could be extremely strict and grim at need.

"You will now, young gentlemen," began Heistand, "proceed to learn all about priming a furnace, lighting, building, cleaning and generally taking care of a fire. Two furnaces have been left idle for this instruction."

But two of the regular firemen now remained in the room. These were ordered to hustle out coal before boilers B and D. Then Heistand taught the members of the section how to swing a shovel to the best advantage so as to get in a maximum of coal with the least effort. He also ill.u.s.trated two or three incorrect ways of shoveling coal.

"The idea of making coal heavers out of us!" growled a much-disgusted voice.

Dan did not see who the speaker was, but his eyes flashed as he turned and rasped out:

"Silence in the section! Speak only to ask for information, and then at the proper time."

"Another young autocrat!" muttered a voice.

"Wait one moment, please, Heistand," begged Dan. Then, wheeling squarely about, and facing all the members of the section, he declared with emphasis:

"If there's any more unauthorized talking I shall feel obliged to pa.s.s the word above that discipline is in a bad way in this section."

Then he wheeled about once more, facing the chief water tender.

"Now, young gentlemen," resumed the chief water tender, "take your shovels and fill in lively under boilers B and D."

Three or four times Heistand checked one or another of the midshipmen, to show him a more correct way of handling the shovel. Yet, in good time, both furnaces were primed.

"Now, Mr. Dalzell, please detail four members of the section to follow me with their shovels and bring red coals from under another boiler."

Dan appointed himself, Darrin, Farley and Pennington.

Burning coals were brought and thrown into each furnace, and in a little while roaring fires were going. These, though not needed for the handling of the battleship, were permitted to burn for a while, Heistand explaining to the section practically the uses of the water gauges and the test c.o.c.ks. By this time the midshipmen's white working clothes were liberally sprinkled with coal dust and somewhat smeared with oils.

"And now, young gentlemen, as we have no further use for these fires, you will next learn how to haul them," announced Heistand.

This was interesting work, but hot and fast. The implements with which the middies worked soon became red-hot at the end. Yet, as all entered into this novel work with zest, the fires had soon been hauled out on to the floor plates.

Just as the last of this work was being done Pennington, as an apparent accident due to excess of zeal, dropped the red-hot end of his implement across the toe of Darrin's left shoe.

In an instant the leather began to blaze. With swift presence of mind Dave stepped his right foot on the flame, smothering it at once.

But he was "mad clean through."

"See here, Pen," he muttered, in a low voice, his eyes blazing fiercely into the other midshipman's, "that is the last piece of impudence that will be tolerated from you."

Midshipman Pennington's lip curled disdainfully.

Dan had not seen the "accident," but he was near enough to hear the talking, and he caught Dave at it. So Dan ordered, impartially:

"Mr. Darrin, you will place yourself on report for unauthorized talking in section!"

Dave flushed still more hotly, but said nothing.

Midshipman Dalzell now marched the section from the furnace room, and dismissed it. It was near noon, and would soon be time for the middies to eat.

Dave hurried away, washed, changed his uniform, and then stepped away swiftly to place himself on the report.

"I was sorry to do that, old chum," murmured Dan, as he met Dave returning. "But of course I couldn't play favorites. What made you so far forget yourself?"

"A something that would have had the same effect on you," retorted Dave grimly. Thereupon he described Pennington's two underhanded a.s.saults that morning.

"Humph!" muttered Dalzell. "That fellow Pen is bound to go the whole limit with you."

"He won't go much further," declared Dave, his eyes flashing.

"And the chump ought to know it, too," mused Dan. "The cla.s.s history of the last year should have taught him that. But see here, Dave, I don't believe Pen will do anything openly. He will construct a series of plausible accidents."

"There will be one thing about him that will be open, if he goes any further," retorted Dave, "and that will be his face when he collides with my fist."

"I hope I see that when it happens," grinned Dalzell. "It's bound to be entertaining!"

"Wait a second, then. Here comes Pennington now," murmured Dave Darrin in an undertone.

Pennington, in his immaculate blue uniform, like the chums, came strolling along the pa.s.sageway between decks.

He affected not to see the chums, and would have pa.s.sed by. But Dave, eyeing him closely, waited until Pen was barely three feet away. Then Darrin said tersely:

"Mr. Pennington, I wish an understanding with you."

"I don't want any with you," replied Pennington insolently, as he stared at Dave from under much-raised eyebrows. He would have gone by, but Dave sprang squarely in front of him.

"Just wait a moment!" warned Dave rather imperiously, for he was aglow with justifiable indignation.

"Well?" demanded Pennington halting. "Out with it, whatever you may think you have to say."

"I have two things to speak about," replied Dave, trying to control his voice. "In the first place, while going down the ladders to the furnaces this morning, you stepped on my shoulder."

"Well!" insisted Pennington coldly.

"The second thing you did was, when hauling the fires, to drop red-hot metal across one of my shoes, setting it on fire."

"Well?" insisted Pennington more coldly.

"If you mean to contend that either one was an accident," resumed Dave, "then--"

But he found himself obliged to pause for a moment in order to steady his voice.

"Well?" asked Pennington with more insolence than ever.