CHAPTER XV.

ORDERED AFT.

"Mr. Scott," said Captain Dunham, turning to his lieutenant-commander,

"ask Mr. Andrews to step here a minute, will you?"

"Yes, sir," responded Mr. Scott, and a minute later Lieutenant Andrews

respectfully saluted Commander Dunham.

"Andrews, I'm not altogether comfortable about giving that lad two days

in the brig. The fellow Kennell I have heard is a most unconscionable

bully, and, moreover, I am favorably inclined to both those lads. I saw

their mettle well tested on the _Rhode Island_, as I told you gentlemen

the other day. Have you heard any details of the matter which you could

not relate officially at the inquiry?"

"Yes sir, I have," said Mr. Andrews straightforwardly. "I learned

a short time ago, from a boatswain's mate who arrived on the scene

shortly after Kennell had been knocked out, that young Taylor, instead

of being the aggressor, had, as a matter of fact, been attacked by

Kennell a few minutes after he had extended his hand and offered an

apology for an unavoidable, if annoying, accident."

"Hum, hum!" mused the captain; "then it seems that there has been a

miscarriage of justice here. But why, in the name of the old Harry,

couldn't the young fellow have acquainted me with the full details of

the case."

"I suppose, sir, that he was unwilling to inform on his shipmate. You

know that 'snitchers,' as they call them forward, are not encouraged in

the navy."

"No, Andrews, no. But I hate to think I have done the lad an

injustice--even if unwittingly."

"I should not worry about it, sir," put in Andrews. "It will not hurt

the youngster to get a sharp lesson in naval discipline which he won't

forget in a hurry."

"Perhaps you are right," mused the captain; "but I should be unwilling

to spoil what I am sure is a fine disposition by over-harshness. As

for that man Kennell, I have been his commander on another ship of

the fleet, the old _Massachusetts_. I am sure he is a trouble maker,

and I am going to have a sharp eye kept on him. If I can detect him

attempting to stir up trouble among the men, I shall visit my wrath on

him pretty sharply."

"And rightly, too, sir," agreed Andrews. "So you have decided to let

young Taylor serve out his sentence?"

"I think so, yes--for one day, anyway," rejoined the commander. "As you

say, it will be a good lesson, though a sharp one. I intend, however,

to put both those lads on a good detail as soon as Taylor is released.

It will be by way of compensation for what I feel is a partial

injustice."

Thus it will be seen that, while naval officers outwardly have often to

"ship a quarter-deck face" and deal out what may seem harsh measures,

yet they are, with few exceptions, kindly, humane men, with an

adoration for their flag and country that amounts to fanaticism, and,

moreover, a kindly feeling toward the men serving under them. It is

somewhat hard, though, to administer the exact measure of justice among

eight or nine hundred high-spirited, healthy young animals like the

average American tar.

* * * * *

"Well, lad, the smoke lamp is lighted. Light up and forget your

troubles."

Old Tom paused as he passed Ned during the rest hour, after the

jackies' noonday dinner.

"Thanks. I never smoke," responded the boy, whose troubled face showed

that he was still worrying over Herc's disgrace. In fact, Ned took his

companion's position to heart much more keenly than did Herc himself,

who, knowing in his own heart that he was not to blame, set to work to

make the best of it.

It was the day following Herc's imprisonment, and already the squadron

had passed into the Gulf Stream, and the warm air of the tropics was

about the mighty fighting ships.

That morning the flagship had signalled to the squadron that white

uniforms were in order, and very trim and neat the jackies looked

in their snowy garments, as they lounged about the decks. Some were

smoking and chatting, some writing letters, and others playing

checkers, chess or cards, or absorbed in some book in a quiet nook.

As Ned, who was leaning over the rail, gazed downward at the foam

flying past the vessel's side, he found never-failing amusement in

watching the great flocks of flying fish that fled shimmering from the

yellow patches of "gulf weed" as the _Manhattan's_ mighty bow nosed

into them.

"For all the world like a covey of partridges scared up in the woods at

home," thought Ned to himself.

"Ordinary Seaman Strong?" asked a sudden voice behind him.

Ned turned swiftly, and saw the captain's orderly facing him.

"Yes, I'm Strong," he said.

"Come with me," directed the orderly.

Ned had been long enough on a battleship now to obey without hesitation

or question when an order was addressed to him.

The lounging jackies regarded him with some interest as he passed among

them.

"The pal of the red-headed lad is going to get a wigging now."

"Two of them upon the carpet in two days. They won't last long in the

service."

These are samples of the comments that were bandied about as the boy

passed along behind the orderly, somewhat troubled, in fact, in his

own mind as to what could be the reason of the sudden summons to the

captain's cabin.

Old Tom spoke up indignantly as he heard the remarks:

"A whole lot of you young varmints will still be scrubbing decks, and

cleaning brasswork, and doing your regular trick in the brig after

shore leave, when them two young fellows is wearing chevrons!" he

snapped.

The old salt was a privileged character, and did and said pretty much

as he liked among the men; but his remark aroused some resentment among

those about him.

"How about you, old Growler?" asked a gruff voice. "How is it you never

rose from the scrub stations?"

"'Cos I was a fool like you when I was young," snarled old Tom, as the

sailors exploded in a shout of laughter at the discomfiture of the

venturesome spirit that had essayed to "bait" old Tom.

"Better leave Tom alone, Ralph," shouted one of the card players; "he's

too sharp for you."

"Yes, he presumes on his gray hairs to do as he likes," snarled the

other, who was none other than Kennell. "It's a good thing for him he's

got a bald head."

"Well, I don't need a pot of paint to cover it, anyhow!" laughed old

Tom, at which there was another tornado of laughter; and Kennell, with

a black look on his face, rose to his feet and made his way to another

spot, one where he was less likely to encounter such a sharp tongue as

old Tom's.

"Confounded old fool!" he muttered to himself as he went, "I'd like to

finish up him and those two kids at one stroke! I'll do it, too, if I

get a chance."

In the meantime Ned, at the orderly's heels, had traversed several of

the memorable narrow, steel-lined corridors, and at last found himself

in front of heavy green plush portieres, beyond which lay, as he

guessed, that hallowed spot, the captain's cabin.

The orderly knocked softly at the polished mahogany door frame.

"Ord'ly, sir," he announced.

And a minute later:

"Ordinary Seaman Strong, sir."

"Send him in," came the pleasant, mellow voice of the captain.

Ned subdued an inclination to take to his heels, and entered, looking

as calm as he could.

"A moment, Strong," said the captain in a pleasant voice. "I'll be

through here in a minute."

Ned stood stiffly at attention and gazed about him out of the corners

of his eyes while his commander wrote busily, dipping his pen from

time to time in a massive silver ink-stand. The commander's quarters,

although on a fighting ship, were as luxuriously appointed as the

library in any mansion ashore. The fittings were all dark mahogany,

relieved, here and there, with maple-wood, on which the soft lights

glowed and shone. As in the officers' cabins, there was no porthole,

the armor at this part of the ship precluding any such device. Thick

glass, let into the quarter deck above, however, admitted light.

"Ord'ly!"

"Sir!"

The orderly sprang into view, like a familiar spirit, from behind the

curtain where he had been standing at attention.

"Take these general orders to Mr. Scott!"

"Yes, sir!"

The galvanic orderly saluted and was off like a shot.

"I wonder if that fellow is equipped with springs?" mused Ned, "or if

he is galvanized daily, or merely wound up by clockwork?"

"Well, Strong."

The captain was gazing at the boy quizzically.

Ned saluted stiffly, and stood straighter than ever at attention,

waiting for what was to come.

The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice · 第 15 / 29 章