OBEYING HIS ORDERS
"Davis, that was a stroke of genius on your part."
"I--I beg your pardon, sir. I did not think how far my thoughtlessness
might carry us. I am very sorry, sir."
"You need not be, my lad. If some of our men had as much good sense as
you have, there would be fewer extra-duty squads on the quarter-deck.
The effect on those men will be most excellent. Besides learning to
obey orders, they will carry the memory of that countersign with them
for many a day, and unless they are beyond hope of reform, you will not
see them on an extra-duty tour again for a long time. I commend you,
Davis. You may dismiss the squad now. They need no further lessons
for to-night."
"Captain's orders, sir, to dismiss the squad," announced Dan, stepping
up before the officer of the deck and saluting.
"Very well. Get my raincoat if you will, then, for I think it is going
to rain before the end of the watch."
Dan saluted and hurried away below to fetch the officer's rain clothes.
A light sprinkle set in that soon covered everything, making the decks
slippery; it became hard to keep one's footing. Both the officer of
the deck and the anchor watch pulled their rubber coats more closely
about them, and, with lowered heads to protect their faces from the
drizzle, began walking back and forth.
Eleven o'clock, six bells, rang out; then silence settled over the ship
again. Cautiously a head was thrust above the hatch of the upper deck.
No one was in sight, save the dark figures of the midshipman and the
anchor watch, far aft on the quarter-deck.
The head lengthened out into a dark figure, which was drawn up through
the hatch opening. Without a sound the man slunk across the deck. He
appeared to be perfectly familiar with his way, but crouched low,
probably so that his moving figure might not catch the watchful eyes of
the officer of the deck, or of the anchor watch far below him.
About this time Dan Davis climbed the ladder to the superstructure,
took a long, sweeping observation of the upper deck, then descended to
the quarter-deck again.
"I thought I heard something up there," he muttered. "It must have
been a chain shifting with the roll of the ship."
In the meantime the figure had flattened itself on the deck. When sure
that the anchor watch had gone aft, the man rose and crept silently
toward the side of the ship.
He was safe now. He knew that the watch was not likely to come to the
superstructure for the next hour at least. The fellow had stumbled
over a chain. The sound, faint and far away as it had been, caught
Dan's ear instantly, leading him to mount the superstructure for an
observation.
"Everything secure above there?" demanded the officer of the deck.
"Aye, aye, sir."
"I thought perhaps you heard something, from the way you went up."
"I thought so, too, sir, but I must have been mistaken. I saw no one."
Reaching the side of the ship the figure hesitated a moment, then
quickly climbed through the rail. He was just opposite the lower boom,
the long, strong pole along which the sailors step to get down into the
small boats.
Trailing from a long rope at the end of the lower boat rode the ship's
dinghy, where she had been left for the night, as had other boats on
the opposite or starboard side.
Now a second figure seemed to rise directly out of the deck, and an
instant later it too had crept out on the lower boom. The men on the
quarter-deck could not see forward to the lower boom without leaning
out over the ship's rail, so the two men were unobserved.
Reaching the end of the boom, the men quickly let themselves down the
Jacob's ladder, dropping noiselessly into the dinghy. They had some
little trouble in casting the boat off, it having been made doubly
secure for the night.
Unluckily one of them dropped an oar, which fell to the bottom of the
boat with a loud clatter.
"What's that?" demanded the officer of the deck sharply.
"It sounded like an oar in a small boat, sir," answered Dan, making for
the topside, which, he reached in a few swift bounds.
"Something going on down there, sir."
"Where away?"
"Just aft of the port boom, sir."
"Can you see the dinghy?"
"Aye, aye, sir. Just make her out."
"Is she all right?"
"She looks to be, sir. I can't quite tell from here. I'll get over
that way; I'll go further forward, sir, and let you know. I see two
dinghies now. The port and starboard dinghies are moored to the port
boom, sir."
"Watch them while I turn out the guard."
"The dinghy is moving, sir. I think there is some one in her."
"Dinghy, there, ahoy!" bellowed the officer of the deck.
There was no reply from the men in the dinghy, who, by this time, were
making more frantic efforts to free themselves.
"Dinghy, there!" shouted Dan. "What are you doing down there?"
Dan's hail, like that of the midshipman, met with no response.
"Lay forward, anchor watch!" shouted the officer of the deck.
A quartermaster came running to the quarterdeck.
"Lower away the first whaleboat. Turn out your men in a hurry.
Boatswain's mate!"
"Aye, aye, sir," bellowed a deep voice somewhere down one of the
corridors leading off from the quarter-deck.
"Turn out the coxswain of the second whaleboat. Look alive, everybody."
"Aye, aye, sir," chorused several voices.
"Anchor watch!"
"Aye, aye, sir."
"What are they doing?"
"Casting off, I think, sir."
"How many men?"
"Two, I think, sir."
The officer of the deck shouted a warning to the men and ordered them
to return instantly to the ship; and then, addressing Dan, he shouted:
"Stop them, if you can!"
"Aye, aye, sir."
Dan's raincoat and hat were off in a twinkling. These dropped one by
one to the deck, as he sped along, bounding over obstructions that he
did not even see, so familiar was he with the course he was following.
"They're rowing away, sir. I'll get them," shouted the Battleship Boy
confidently.
He darted out on the lower boom, grasping the life line strung along
its length for protection to the sailors passing over the boom.
"Boat ahoy!" cried Dan.
The men bent to their oars; that is, one of them did, for there is but
one pair of oars in a dinghy.
"It'll be the worse for you men, down there, if you try to get away.
The whaleboats are being turned out to go for you, and I'm after you
myself."
His warning had no effect, unless it were to hasten the work of the man
at the oars. In his excitement the fellow let an oar slip from its
fastening, keeling him over on his back in the boat. A muttered
exclamation reached the boy on the boom.
Without an instant's hesitation Dan crouched down on the boom, letting
himself down until he hung suspended over the sea by his hands.
For a brief instant he peered down into the sea some thirty feet below
him, taking mental measurement of the distance, figuring just how near
he would come to hitting the dinghy were he to let himself go.
"I'll chance it," he muttered. "It's my duty to try. I am under
orders to stop them, and stop them I will!"
The Battleship Boy let go.
His body shot downward, striking the water with a splash that was heard
far back on the quarter-deck.