Sharp’s fist,--it was like a flesh and blood sledge hammer,--shot
out full for Ned’s jaw. With a dexterity born of long practice in
wholesome boxing bouts, which are encouraged in the navy, the young
man-o’-war’s-man put up a swift guard, and Sharp’s blow was harmlessly
diverted. Almost before Ned had completed this maneuver, he had faced
round on the foe that attacked him from the rear. It was the fat
Chinaman. He wielded a lacquered stool--a formidable weapon.
But it was destined to be turned upon himself. Ned, with a quick jerk,
had it out of his hands just as the greasy Oriental raised it for a
smashing blow. Then, with a quick outward movement of his foot, he
caught it between the Chinaman’s legs and sent him sprawling in a heap
in a corner. The Mongolian, though not hurt, deemed it more prudent to
remain still.
Ned was given no time to draw breath. Manners was upon him like a
wildcat the next instant, and Ned had his hands full. Sharp was puffy
and out of training. His muscles, though ponderous, were flabby, and
his breath short. Already he was panting. But Manners offered a more
serious problem. He was young, strongly thewed and in fairly good
condition. The young gunner’s mate was prepared for him, though, and he
managed to land two terrific body blows before Manners could use his
fists effectively.
Not an instant did Ned lose in following up the brief temporary
advantage he had before Sharp joined in the assault. He grabbed Manners
in an iron grip, and as Sharp, bellowing furiously, charged down like
a wild bull, his arms going like the sails of a windmill,--he was too
furious to employ science in his attack,--Ned was all ready for him.
His plan had been formed in a jiffy. It was simple but hugely
effective. He utilized Manners, whom he held at arm’s length by the
scruff of the neck, as a human battering ram.
As Sharp rushed in, Ned, exerting the full force of his steel-true
muscles, swung Manners with all the energy he possessed against the
infuriated sailor. The force of the collision took the breath out
of Sharp, and Ned was upon him in an instant. Seizing each of the
recalcitrant stragglers by the back of the neck, he banged them
together till they howled for mercy.
“Well, are you ready to come along now?” demanded Ned sharply.
“All right. We’ll go,” panted Sharp, “but I’ll get even on you, Strong,
if it takes me till the last day I live.”
Manners merely nodded sullenly, but it was easy to see that the fight
was out of him as completely as it had evaporated from Sharp under
Ned’s necessarily vigorous treatment. Ned was the last lad in the
world to needlessly seek trouble. But he had taken good care to be
prepared to meet it if it came to him. This is the spirit that is
properly encouraged in the navy,--not a desire to bully or seek excuses
for trouble, but to have a well-trained body and mind, prepared if
trouble does come to meet it, in a manly fashion and without loss of
dignity or sacrifice of the principles for which our navy stands.
“I’ll get even, I say!” bellowed Sharp as Ned, ignoring the Chinaman
who still lay flat eying him out of his squinty eyes, marched his two
tamed termagants to the door.
“You’re talking foolishly, Sharp,” rejoined Ned, calmly. “I gave you
your chance. You wouldn’t take it. Now you are simply paying the
penalty of your own stubbornness.”
Still muttering threats, Sharp and Manners were marched up the steps.
As the Dreadnought Boy appeared with the pair that he had captured
single-handed, the discipline of his little squad gave way to
exclamations of amazement.
“Crickey,” exclaimed a sailor in an audible whisper, “Gunner’s-Mate
Strong must be a regular man-eater! Sharp is known as a bully and
Manners is no infant.”
“Judging by the looks, Strong is the daddy of them both,” grinned the
man next to him, and a low laugh ran along the line.
“Bully for you, Ned!” burst out Herc.
“Silence,” ordered Ned sternly.
Then, marching his men up to the patrol, he gave his next order to his
abashed followers.
“Armstrong, you and Peters take these fellows down to the launch
and tell them there that they are under arrest. I shall hold you
responsible for their safe delivery. As soon as you have done this,
hurry back. You’ll find us somewhere along this street or you can
easily locate us by inquiry.”
He turned to his two sullen-faced, surly prisoners.
“Now, men, you realize that you are prisoners. You’d better go
peaceably or you may make a long stay in the brig with stoppage of pay
and liberty. I’m going to spare you the ignominy of handcuffs. I think
you’ve suffered enough.”
“Well, I should remark! Look at Sharp’s eye,” sputtered the
irrepressible Herc.
“Taylor, if I hear any more from you, you will be ordered back to the
steamer,” said Ned curtly.
When on duty, Ned recognized no friendships. A breach of discipline
such as Herc’s was just as much of an offense as if any other man had
committed it.
“Right face! Twos! Forward march!” ordered Ned. The eight remaining
men of his force swung into the formation indicated with military
precision, and off they marched once more through the unsavory Chinese
quarter. Coming up the street on the other side, Ned espied a man
from the _New Hampshire_. He was a respectable-looking fellow and was
plainly in the quarter buying curios to send back home. His arms were
full of purchases, most of them paid for at exorbitant rates, for the
Chinese merchant swindles a sailor without compunction.
“Ahoy, shipmate!” hailed Ned. “We’re a picket sent out to round up the
stragglers. Seen any of our fellows?”
“Oh, you’re from the _Manhattan_, ain’t you?”
“Yes. I thought you might have seen some of our men.”
“I sure have,” grinned the other. “I gave them a wide berth, too. One
of them told me he could lick anybody aboard the _New Hampshire_. I
might have tackled him but he had too many of his friends with him, so
I made him a polite reply and vamoosed.”
“Where did all this happen?”
“Right down the street there. There’s a German runs the place. I
wouldn’t go in it for two months’ pay.”
“Bad place, eh?”
“’Bout the worst there is in ’Frisco, a shipmate told me.”
“Well, I’ll soon find out.”
“Jumping top-masts, you ain’t goin’ in there, shipmate?”
“I certainly am. Why not?”
The other shook his head ominously.
“Well, the chances are about ten to one on your getting back to your
ship! They won’t do a thing to you!”
“I’m not so sure about that. The roughest of characters must be taught
to respect our uniform, and I’m going to see that they do it.”
Ned’s chin came forward and his lips compressed in what his shipmates
called “Strong’s fighting look.”
“If you’re determined to go in, then, let me give you a bit of advice.
I hope you won’t be too proud to accept it.”
“Of course not,” said Ned with a smile. “This sort of work is new to
me, but I mean to do the best I can at it, and I can’t carry it out if
I allow myself to be scared out of these low resorts.”
“That’s the talk for a man-o’-war’s-man,” said the other approvingly.
“Well, my advice is just this: load up before you go in there,--that’s
all.”
“Thank you, very much,” rejoined Ned. “My men are all armed and their
revolvers are loaded.”
“Well, so long, good luck.”
“So long, shipmate. Forward march!” And once more the little detachment
swung off down the street.
They marched on till they reached the place that the sailor from the
_New Hampshire_ had pointed out. It bore a sign in front: “The Fair
Wind.”
“Humph,” thought Ned as he looked at the building, a dingy,
three-storied brick structure in very bad repair. “‘The Fair Wind,’ eh?
I think it’s a very bad wind that blows any foolish sailor in here.”
After his preliminary survey he turned to his detachment.
“I want you men to wait out here,” he said. “You understand?”
“But, Ned----” burst out Herc.
A look from the young commander of the picket stopped the red-headed
youth’s outburst of protest. But Simpson, an elderly sailor of
excellent character and long service, spoke up respectfully.
“Hadn’t you better take a couple of us along, sir?”
“No, that’s not part of my plan,” rejoined Ned. “A general entry of
armed blue-jackets might be only a signal for trouble and that’s just
what we want to avoid. Often an appeal to a man’s reason is more
effective than force.”
“Very well, sir. We’ll hold ourselves in readiness, though.”
“I want you to do just that. If I give two sharp, short blasts on my
whistle, come--and come on the jump. Otherwise, don’t move. Whatever
you do, keep your heads. Remain cool, and under no circumstances draw
your fire-arms. If it comes to a tussle, we’ve got our fists.”
Ned advanced to the swinging doors of the place, pushed them open and
vanished. The anxious eyes of his squad followed him.
“I’ve a notion we’ll hear them two whistles in a jiffy,” remarked a man
standing next to Herc.
“Well, if you do you’ll know that Ned is really up a tree,” responded
Herc. “He’s not the sort that cries ‘wolf’ unless there’s real trouble
bearing down on him.”