The Battleship Boys at Sea Part 11

"Yes. Make haste."

Dan sprang out through the doorway and down the bank.

CHAPTER VI-IN THE MIDST OF THE BATTLE

"A nice mix-up. There'll be an awful row about this," muttered Dan, as he slid down the steep bank on his feet.

When he reached the bottom, Flink, the apprentice, still bore the greater part of his weight upon the officer.

"Here's my chance," decided Dan. Springing to his feet, he grabbed Flink by the collar with both hands. Giving him a violent tug, Flink came away, Dan hurling him to one side with surprising strength.

"May I help you, sir?" he asked courteously.

The officer did not answer, but there was an angry gleam in his eyes.

Dan proceeded to brush him off, using the sleeves of his own jacket for the purpose, while the officer stood still until the brushing was finished. He then stepped back and saluted.

"Thank you, my lad. Are you the one who is responsible for this?"

"No, sir."

"Who is?"

"The men were holding a c.o.c.k-fight under orders, sir."

"Ah, I see. Who is that apprentice?"

"I believe his name is Flink, sir."

"Who threw him out?"

"My friend, Hickey, sir."

"Very well; you may go."

Dan made his way around the base of the embankment, and a few moments later joined his companions in the drill hall, where he saluted his superior, fell in and began his practice work once more.

Sam's face was as solemn as he could make it. Flink, on the contrary, when he rejoined the squad, was scowling angrily. He was dust-covered, his face smeared and altogether he presented a most ludicrous sight.

They were once more being put through the manual of arms when a messenger approached the quartermaster. A brief conversation ensued.

The quartermaster ran his eyes down the line.

"Hickey, fall out!" he commanded.

The red-haired boy did so.

"Do not lose your temper. You are going to be called down. Be respectful and use your head," warned Dan in a whisper, as Sam stepped back from the line.

"Report to the executive officer in the chief yeoman's office on the balcony above," commanded the quartermaster.

"Aye, aye, sir," replied Sam, with a salute.

He made his way up the stairs, and at the door of the office gave the orderly his name. After a moment the orderly reappeared, motioning Sam to follow him.

The lad walked into the private office of the executive officer, where he stood twisting his hat in his hands awkwardly. The executive officer eyed him disapprovingly.

"What's your name?"

"Samuel Hickey, sir."

"How long have you been here?"

"One day, sir."

"You are the man who threw the man Flink against me, are you not?"

"Yes, sir," answered Sam, making a great effort to suppress the grin that curled the corners of his mouth.

"Tell me how it happened?"

"We were having a c.o.c.k-fight, sir."

"Yes; go on."

"They were all down except the fellow Flink and myself. We were fighting it out. He was a pretty tough proposition, and I had a hard time of it."

"You employed no unnecessary roughness?"

"I was not very gentle about it, sir," answered Sam truthfully. "I was trying to b.u.mp him over."

"And you did not care particularly how hard you hit him?"

"I hit him as hard as I could every time, sir."

"There is bad blood between you and this man, is there not?"

Sam looked surprised. He was not aware that the executive officer knew anything about that.

"I don't like him, sir, if that is what you mean."

"Why not?"

"I would rather not say, sir."