NANNY SENDS A MESSAGE.
As the officer of the deck advanced to obey the command a cry came from
overhead. All eyes were turned in that direction.
In the excitement Nanny had been temporarily forgotten. The little lad
had ran up the rigging to the foretop, then seeing that his friend was
in trouble, he descended midway to the deck.
There he paused, and when Clif was ordered under arrest he made an
exclamation of consternation.
The executive officer was angry. He believed the corporal’s story, and
the very idea of such a gross breach of discipline was too much for his
temper.
“Come down, sir!” he roared, shaking his spyglass at poor Nanny. “Come
down at once or it will be the worse for you.”
A cadet first class man named Blakely, the captain of the academy
football team, involuntarily leaped into the rigging, thinking the
pursuit of the fugitive was desired by Lieutenant Watson.
The latter’s stern voice and Blakely’s action proved the last straw,
and Nanny fled upward again in dismay.
The rigging swayed under his hurrying feet and several times he came
dangerously near falling. But fear lent confidence, and he gained the
top without mishap.
Lieutenant Watson watched his progress with mingled amazement and rage.
In all his experience he had never known a cadet to run aloft to escape
punishment.
“The boy is crazy,” he muttered.
“Shall we send several men after him, sir?” asked the officer of the
deck.
Before a reply could be given the commander of the _Monongahela_, who
had been in his cabin, walked forward attracted by the commotion.
“What is the matter?” he asked, glancing at the cadets.
“A little trouble between Cadet Corporal Sharpe and two new fourth
class men, sir,” replied Lieutenant Watson, saluting. “Cadets Faraday
and Gote attacked Cadet Corporal Sharpe and struck him while he was in
pursuit of his duty.”
“What’s that?” exclaimed the captain, severely. “Striking a superior
officer is a grave offense.”
Turning upon Clif, he added:
“Young man, it seems that you intend to keep yourself before the
public. It was all right for you to create disturbances at the academy
and be kidnaped, but when you assault a superior officer, you go too
far. Your time as a cadet will be short if you persist in such actions.”
Clif attempted to speak, but he was cut short with a gesture.
“Where is the other culprit?” asked the captain, addressing Lieutenant
Watson.
The latter pointed aloft.
“He fled to escape punishment, sir.”
“What?”
“He’s in the foretop.”
“Have him brought down at once and placed under arrest. I’ll
court-martial both for this breach of discipline,” thundered the
_Monongahela’s_ commander.
At a signal from the executive officer, four nimble first class men
sprang into rigging and began to run aloft.
The crowd around the spot had increased until it numbered almost the
entire crew. All the officers off duty had left the wardroom and
steerage, and many comments were made.
“Never seen anything like it in all my experience,” exclaimed the
navigator.
“Think he’s temporarily insane, doctor?” the paymaster asked, gazing
curiously aloft.
“Maybe a touch of sunstroke,” was the surgeon’s cautious reply.
He stepped over to the captain said something in a low voice.
Clif, who was standing a few feet away, between the master-at-arms and
the ship’s corporal, heard the commander reply, incredulously:
“Nonsense, sir. It’s simply a spirit of deviltry. He thinks he can do
as he pleases. He must be taught a lesson.”
Clif glanced aloft, where, indeed, all eyes were turned, and saw that
the four cadets had almost reached the top.
Suddenly Nanny’s face, strained and eager, appeared over the edge of
the wide top. He gave the pursuing cadets one rapid glance, then he
scrambled into the rigging leading above and started to ascend.
“Stop! Come down out of that,” bellowed the executive officer, waving
his spyglass.
The fugitive’s feet slipped and he was seen to sway outward. A frantic
clutch at a stay saved him, however, and he continued upward.
“He will fall as sure as fate,” cried the paymaster, hoarsely.
Again Nanny slipped, and again did he regain his foothold. But it was
evident his lack of experience would bring him into serious peril, and
the spectators watched his uncertain progress with bated breath.
“He’ll never reach the crosstrees,” said Lieutenant Watson. “He is
crazy. He will---- Oh! I thought he was gone then.”
“Mr. Blakely, don’t follow any farther,” he shouted. “Come back to the
top.”
The senior cadet and his three companions halted instantly and slowly
descended. Nanny quickly observed their change of action, and halted,
swinging nervously from the ratlines.
A sigh of relief went up.
“Proper move,” muttered the surgeon. “Should have stopped them before.
Guess I’ll try a trip to the top and see if I can coax him down.”
He made the suggestion at once, and the commander gave prompt consent.
It was a ticklish task for his unaccustomed feet, but he finally
arrived within speaking distance of the young fugitive.
The two held a very brief conversation, then the surgeon returned to
the deck. His face wore a queer expression.
“That boy is no more crazy than I am,” he reported. “But he’s simply
scared out of his wits. He declares he won’t come down until a certain
cadet is sent up to him.”
“Who, in Heaven’s name?” demanded the captain.
“Mr. Clif Faraday.”
“Why does he wish to see him?”
The surgeon shook his head.
“I don’t know, sir,” he replied. “He insists on it. Possibly it would
be a good idea to humor him.”
“I’d like to humor his back with a rope’s end!” exclaimed the captain.
“This is the most ridiculous experience I ever had. Fancy a cadet
skipping aloft and defying the whole ship’s company. It is simply
outrageous. Mr. Faraday!”
“Yes, sir.”
Clif stepped forward and saluted respectfully. He appeared calm, but a
gleam in his eyes indicated that he labored under some excitement.
“Run aloft and persuade that silly boy to come down,” ordered the
captain, gruffly. “Tell him we won’t hang him to the yardarm to-day.
And just add that he is making a fool of himself and that it will have
a bad effect on his future record.”
Clif saluted again and sprang into the shrouds. As he passed Cadet
Corporal Sharpe he gave that youth a look that spoke volumes.
“He’s the cause of all this trouble,” muttered Clif, as he nimbly
ascended the rigging. “If any harm comes to poor Nanny I’ll square
accounts with him as sure as fate.”
It did not take him long to reach the foretop. Climbing through the
lubber’s hole, he stood up and looked aloft. Nanny was midway to the
crosstrees.
His face was rather pale, and the hands grasping the ratlines trembled
perceptibly. It was evident that he was still badly frightened. Clif
motioned him to come down to the top.
“Drop down here, Nanny,” he said, kindly. “Everything is all right.
Just descend carefully, and I’ll help you to the deck.”
“Oh, Clif, I’m afraid,” was the piteous reply. “I--I--struck an
officer, and they’ll send me to prison.”
“Nonsense, chum. We are both in trouble on account of that ‘plebe
deviler,’ Sharpe, but they can’t do much to us. I expect we will be
court-martialed, but we’ve plenty of witnesses on our side. Come down,
that’s a good boy.”
“You are not fooling me?”
Clif laughed encouragingly.
“That’s a nice thing to say,” he replied. “I am ashamed of you.”
Nanny smiled also, and prepared to descend. He cautiously lowered
one foot and then started to follow with the other. As he did so he
stepped, swayed outward, and after one frantic grasp at the rigging,
fell down, down from the dizzy height.
A cry of horror came from the spectators.
“He will be killed!”
“Heavens! what a fall!”
Then came a sickening splash as Nanny’s body, bounding from the
rigging, struck the water and disappeared beneath the surface.
Several cadets, among them Trolley, Joy and Toggles, sprang to the top
of the hammock netting, but before they could leap overboard after the
little plebe a figure was seen to cleave the air from above.
Amid the echoes of the second splash a shout went up in a regular
torrent of voices:
“It’s Faraday!”