However, Sam Hickey knew what he was about. If he missed, he would have the satisfaction of knowing that it was not through carelessness.

At last he seemed satisfied as to his position, arriving at which decision, he lost no time in bringing the rifle to his shoulder and pulling the trigger.

"Bull's-eye!"

A great shout went up from the apprentices. Discipline, for the moment, was swept aside. Even the officers smiled approvingly as their young charges threw hats high in the air, yelling l.u.s.tily, shouting the names of their champions. Dan Davis and red-haired Sam had outshot them all.

As it had grown late, there was no time for the two friends to shoot it off. Between them, it was a tie.

CHAPTER IX-BETRAYED BY A STREAK OF RED

Dan got his promotion on the following day, with an increase of pay, so that the two boys now had the same rating in the school.

Flink, however, had grown very surly. As the days wore on he became more and more ugly so far as the boys were concerned, but the latter gave little heed to him.

In the meantime, Sam and Dan had been progressing rapidly. They had learned many things. First, they had perfected themselves in signaling, splicing, knot-tying and seamanship, so far as was possible in the limited time at their disposal. The Battleship Boys by their application, hard work and keen minds, had won the respect of their officers as well as of their own a.s.sociates. The frequent cruises about the bay and down Long Island Sound of the "Boxer" had given them practical experience and agility; for by this time Sam and Dan were able to cling to a yard arm in a rolling sea with out being in the least disturbed. They were as agile aloft as if they had been at sea in sailing ships for years.

And now they were just completing their course. A week remained for them to put the finishing touches to it. Already they were looking forward with keen antic.i.p.ation to the day when they should receive their summons to join a ship. This might not come for some time, but on account of their high standing they were reasonably certain that they would be chosen with the first detail of their cla.s.s that went out.

During all this time, however, the Battleship Boys had been subjected to petty annoyances that both troubled and mystified them. Perhaps they may have had some slight suspicion as to the cause of their troubles, but if so, there was no definite clue on which to base their suspicions.

First, something was found wrong with the mechanism of Hickey's rifle.

Then next, Dan's Krag rifle was discovered at inspection to be in a sad state of neglect. The inspection officer said it was quite evident that the gun had not been cleaned in weeks.

For both these offenses the lads were disciplined, not seriously, but enough so that the lesson might be impressed upon their minds.

Dan and Sam held many quiet talks over these incidents. Sam was for going to one of their superior officers and voicing their suspicions, but of this Dan would not hear.

"We have got to prove ourselves men, no matter if we do get some bad conduct marks by so doing. And, besides, these things that have happened to us may be the result of a mistake. For instance, you remember that rifle on account of which I was ordered to do extra duty?"

"Yes," nodded Hickey.

"Well, that wasn't my gun at all. It was some one else's Krag."

"Then some one else took yours?" questioned Sam, with rising color.

"Yes, but I think perhaps that was a mistake."

"It wasn't any mistake at all," snapped Sam, "and I'm going to keep my eyes open. I'll get even with the fellow who is trying to get us into trouble-I'll get even with him before we leave the station, if I lose my job doing it."

That afternoon there was to be a battalion drill, and, after the morning's work, all hands hurried to quarters to get into their bright, clean white uniforms. It was the one time in the week when the apprentices were given an opportunity to show themselves at their best.

Many people came out from town for this regular Thursday afternoon drill, when every apprentice at the station appeared on parade, with flags waving, bands playing, the sunlight glistening on polished weapons.

"This will be our last drill here, I hope," glowed Dan, as all preparations having been made, the lads hurried out and falling in, started for the drill ground, marching by fours.

All went well until the company in which the two boys were marching had swung into line. Then there came a sudden command:

"Halt!"

The petty officers in command ran their eyes over the line in some surprise. They did not understand what it meant. They knew, however, that something had gone wrong.

The executive officer was standing to the rear of the line, at some distance, while the battalion was going through its evolutions. His observant eyes had suddenly caught sight of something that filled him with amazement and indignation.

Quickly striding down to the line, the men facing away from him, he called the chief quartermaster to him.

"Take those men out of line."

"Which ones, sir?"

The executive officer, pointed, and then the petty officer saw that which also amazed him. A moment more and he had tapped both Dan and Sam on the shoulder.

"Fall out!" he commanded.

They obeyed promptly, but wonderingly.

"Report to your quarters, and remain there in detention."

The boys saluted and moved away.

"Now, will you tell me what this means?" demanded Dan.

"That's what I was trying to find out. We haven't done anything."

They had reached their quarters when, all at once, Dan uttered an exclamation.

"What is it?" demanded Sam.

"Look at yourself."

"What's wrong with me?" growled the freckle-faced boy.

"Take off your jacket and you'll see."

"You had better take off your own while you are about it," replied Sam, opening his eyes wide as he gazed at his companion.

With one accord they stripped off their jackets, uttering exclamations of anger as they did so.

The backs of the jackets were streaked with bright red until they resembled the bars of the American Flag, which they no doubt had been intended by the perpetrator of the outrage to represent.

Sam examined his jacket critically; then, glancing up, he met the eyes of his companion.

"Red ink," nodded Sam. "I'll bet the eagle will scream now."

"Who could have done it?"