Sam uttered a short, nervous laugh.

"Is that all?"

"You will find it is quite enough. At a quarter to one you will report forward of the after twelve-inch-gun turret and there await me. I shall bring other prisoners there for trial. We will join you there."

"Very well," answered Sam. He did not yet realize the seriousness of the courteously executed order. However, he looked up Dan as soon thereafter as possible, relating to him what had occurred.

"Why, Sam, you are under arrest!" exclaimed Dan.

"Under arrest?"

"Of course you are."

"But I thought they locked people up after they arrested them."

"It isn't always necessary on shipboard. You couldn't get away if you wanted to."

"That's so. I hadn't thought of it in that light before. Under arrest? I wonder what will happen to me next? First, I get seasick, get knocked out, then get arrested for being punched. This is a funny business. And the worst of it is that I can't change my mind for four years." Sam grinned a mirthless grin. "Hard luck, isn't it, Dan?"

"No; it is a good thing. All this will make a man of you-of both of us."

The lads went about their duties soon after that. At noon Sam hurried through his dinner, after which he slicked himself up as best he could and went to the after gun turret, where he awaited the master-at-arms, as he had been ordered to do. The latter arrived a moment later, bringing with him two other prisoners and Bill Kester. The latter was accompanied by the surgeon. Kester's face-that is his nose-was patched up with numerous strips of adhesive plaster.

The men were conducted half way down the deck, where stood the captain, the executive officer of the ship and the captain's yeoman, the latter with his record book in hand, eyeing them carefully.

"Sam Hickey, step forward," called the yeoman.

The lad took his place in front of the captain, who, at the moment, was studying the record sheet giving Sam's history.

"Where is the man who makes this charge?" demanded the captain.

Kester was thrust forward by the master-at-arms.

"State your case," commanded the captain.

"I was standing on the gun deck, facing forward, sir, when this man Hickey comes along and hits me with the deck swab."

"He hit you with the deck swab?"

"With the handle, sir."

"Where did he hit you?"

"On the gun deck, sir, aft the eight-inch gun."

"I should say by your appearance that you had been hit on the nose instead of on the gun deck," replied the captain, without the suspicion of a smile on his face.

"Yes, sir, he hit me on the nose, sir."

"How could he do that when your back was turned toward him?" demanded the captain sharply.

"Somebody cried, 'Look out,' and I turned, sir. Then I got it."

"What did you do?"

"I slapped his face, sir."

"And what did the prisoner do?"

Sam's lips contracted a little upon his being referred to as "the prisoner."

"He hit me on the nose with his fist, right on the sore spot, sir. He knocked me clean off my feet, tumbling me up under the breech of the eight-inch, sir."

"Then what happened?"

"I went to the surgeon, sir, to get myself fixed up."

"You were not the aggressor in any way?"

"Sir?"

"You are quite sure you did not start the trouble?"

"How could I, when my back was turned, sir?"

"I did not ask you that; I asked you whether you were or not. Answer yes or no."

"No, sir."

"That will be all for the present. Samuel Hickey, step forward."

The Battleship Boy moved three paces to the front, looking the commanding officer squarely but respectfully in the eyes.

"You have heard Kester's story. What have you to add to it, if anything?"

"I hardly think the story will stand any more adding to, sir," replied the boy, with a faint smile. The captain appeared not to notice the subtle fling in Sam's answer.

"You will tell me, in as few words as possible, how the row started."

"We had finished scrubbing decks, sir. I had been seasick and was going forward on a run, carrying my deck swab. Somehow it caught this man between the legs and upset him, sir."

"How did he get the wound on his nose, if that is true?"

"He must have hurt himself in falling."

The explanation sounded very lame to all who heard it, though, as the reader knows, it was wholly within the facts.

"You mean to tell me you did not strike him at all?"