Before dawn, huge green seas were cascading over the forecastle and
the ponderous steel mass of the big dreadnought was wallowing in the
water-rows like a storm-tossed schooner. Occasionally a mighty comber
would strike the bow a glancing blow, and then the spray flew high in a
glistening waterspout over the bridge and high up on the cage masts.
Tons of salt water swept across the quarter-deck from time to time,
burying it in a swirling, surging whirlpool, which gushed off in every
direction as the great ship rose once more, shaking herself like a huge
water animal.
The Jackies shouted with glee as each huge wave swept down on the
battlecraft, threatening to engulf even its titanic mass. A mighty
sea would tower majestically high above the forecastle like a great
wall of green water. The Jackies would scuttle to places of safety
and then burst into enthusiastic yells as it flooded the fore-decks,
swept around the forward turret, sent tons of spray dashing against the
bridge and upper works and finally swept on, to be followed by another
monstrous gray-back.
All watches were set, for in the spray and flying spume it was almost
as hard to see ahead as if a fog overhung the ocean. As the day wore on
the sea grew higher instead of moderating. Breakfast and dinner were
eaten out of tin pannikins, for nothing would have stayed on the table.
The blue-jackets thought all this fine fun, and shouted every time the
ship took an extra heavy plunge.
On the bridge a consultation was held. It was all very well for the
dreadnought, this plunging ahead through the mountainous seas at a
fifteen-knot clip, but the smaller vessels couldn’t stand it so well.
A wireless message was sent out to reduce speed to ten knots an hour
and extra men were ordered into the tops to help the other lookouts.
Ned was assigned to the after cage mast. He sprang upon the iron-runged
ladder leading aloft with agility. He was glad to have something to
do, for of course the ordinary routine work of the ship was out of the
question with the ship rolling till her indicator showed twenty degrees
of heeling.
Accustomed as Ned was to climbing in high places, his head swam a
bit as he paused half way up for breath and to dash the spray from
his eyes. He looked down. A hundred feet below him was a boiling,
foam-flecked sea, running mountains high. Viewed from that height, the
_Manhattan_ looked to be very narrow and unseaworthy, and her decks
appeared to be constantly awash.
Now and then, when an extra big wave came along, she would swing over
till it seemed as if she never meant to come back on an even keel
again. Cinders and gases from the big funnels swept about the boy at
times, too, adding to his discomfort.
But Ned was pretty well hardened to most of these things by this time,
and his pause was mainly to get some of the salt water out of his
mouth, eyes and nose. Then up he went again, clambering on the slippery
rungs with such speed that from the bridge below came a bellowed order
through a megaphone:
“Careful aloft there!”
“Aye, aye, sir!” hailed back Ned at the top of his voice and waved a
hand to show that he was all right.
At length he reached the top, a small platform mounted by machine guns
and surrounded by a steel rail. At one place there was an opening in
this rail, across which a rope had been stretched. It looked very thin,
small and unsubstantial to guard an open space more than a hundred
feet above the ship’s deck, but it was quite strong enough for the
blue-jackets, who gave little thought to such matters.
As he gained the top, Ned received a surprise. The other man aloft was
Sharp, the seaman he had taken out of the Chinese den in San Francisco.
He had received, thanks to Ned’s lack of malice, only a short sentence
in the brig and was now on duty again.
“Hullo, Sharp,” said Ned pleasantly, as he clambered into the top.
Sharp scowled at him but didn’t say anything at the moment.
“I’m glad to see that you’re out again,” pursued Ned. “I hope you don’t
bear any malice, Sharp. I was only doing my duty.”
“Oh, that’s what all you precious mamma’s babies say,” growled out
Sharp in a sullen tone.
His rage suddenly flared up.
“I’ve got it in for you, Strong,” he snarled.
“Don’t talk foolishly, Sharp. Only fools and children nurse a grudge.
It’s all over so far as I’m concerned, and you know I tried to let you
off as easy as I could at the mast.”
“What of that? My shore leave is being stopped, ain’t it? I don’t get
ashore at Honolulu.”
“Well, you must admit that that isn’t my fault,” said Ned.
“I don’t admit anything of the sort,” snarled Sharp. “If it hadn’t been
for your Sunday-school way of sneaking around, the fleet would have
sailed without me.”
“You’re a nice navy man, I must say,” said Ned contemptuously, turning
on his heel.
“Just as good as you are, and maybe better, Mister Know-it-all. I’ve
been in the service twenty years, and----”
“You are still where you started.”
Ned, ordinarily the most even tempered of lads, was beginning to resent
Sharp’s slurring tone and could not have foregone this thrust.
Sharp’s face grew as dark as the slate-colored sea racing by far below
them. He approached Ned with his eyes blazing like hot coals.
“So you’ll make game of me, eh, my young rooster? Well, you’ll regret
it to the last day you live; I tell you that right here and now.”
“Oh, don’t bother me, unless you can talk sense,” said Ned impatiently.
“I’ll talk sense fast enough. I hate you, Strong.”
“Thank you. I am not aching for your friendship.”
A sudden frenzy of rage appeared to possess Sharp. He jumped forward
and seized Ned, shaking his fist. The other shook him off with a quick
movement.
“Are you _mad_, Sharp? Suppose any of the officers saw you?”
“I don’t care if they did. I’m through with the navy. I’m going to quit
it, first chance I get. The service has gone to the dogs when they
promote sugar-babies like you to be petty officers.”
Ned leaned over the edge of the top. He didn’t want to make the man
more furious by replying to him. It was plain that Sharp was lashing
himself into a malevolent rage.
“But before I quit the service, I’ll get even with you!” he roared.
Still Ned made no reply. He turned and walked across the top. He was
passing by the open space, which was only railed off by the slender
rope previously referred to, when the ship gave a sudden lurch. At the
same instant he felt a shove from behind.
Powerless to stop himself, Ned was sent staggering toward the rope. He
fell against it with all his weight. The stuff snapped like pack-thread.
Ned plunged through the opening head downward, and it seemed inevitable
that he would fall into the boiling, leaping sea more than a hundred
feet below!