"I sentence you to three days in the brig on bread and water, with no full rations during that time," announced the captain. "The next time I will make it thirty days."

"Davis," he continued, turning to Dan, "I am fully satisfied that you acted wholly in self-defense. No marks will be placed against you."

Secretly the captain was well pleased that the bully had gotten such a sound drubbing. The man's face was a sight. The plasters over the nose plainly located the spot where Sam Hickey's fists had landed, while the eyes, lips and "cauliflower" ear testified to the power of Dan Davis's muscular punches.

"Remember, however, Davis, that fighting is discouraged aboard ship.

Fighting will be severely dealt with in all instances. Providing a man is acting in self-defense, with no fault on his own part, that fact will be considered in pa.s.sing upon any disturbance that he may become involved in. You understand thoroughly, do you not!"

"Yes, sir," answered Dan, saluting.

"You are a new man. Be guided wholly by your officers. When in doubt consult them."

Kester was led away to the brig to serve his sentence. Sam heard them coming along the corridor. Stepping to the door of his cell he peered out through the grating. A grin spread over his face as he caught sight of the woebegone figure of Kester.

"h.e.l.lo, Bill," he jeered. "Who have you been thumping?"

The bully made no reply, and a moment later the cell door clanged behind him.

CHAPTER XVI-RECEIVING A CHALLENGE

"No mine drill to-day," sang out a boatswain's mate, as he pa.s.sed along the forecastle. "Water too rough. If the weather quiets down, however, there may be something else doing."

Instead of a day in the small boats laying mines, as had been planned, the men were to have another field day, painting ship, after the decks had been scrubbed down. Gun crews got out their pots and brushes, then crawled through the narrow openings into the gun-turrets, first having thrown open the hatches on top of the turrets, to let in enough light to enable them to see where to paint.

Walls were painted white, floors red, jackies both red and white. Dan and Sam-the latter having been released from the brig after serving his sentence-not belonging to a gun crew, were put to work in a corridor on this occasion. They were in great good humor, having gained the distinction of being ordered to report for wig-wag signal duty during the mine practice, both being experts with the signal flag. The boys were talking over their good fortune when the captain came hurrying through. Instantly the boys came to attention.

"Good morning, lads," greeted the commanding officer.

"Fresh paint beside you, sir," warned Dan.

"Very careless of me not to have observed it. I see I have gathered quite a quant.i.ty of it already," he added, examining his trim braided blouse that was now streaked with white.

"May I speak, sir?" asked Dan.

"Certainly, my lad. What is it?"

"Let me rub the paint off while it is still fresh?"

"How?"

"This way, sir."

Dan examined the sleeve of his jacket critically. Having found a clean place he approached the captain and began rubbing his own sleeve over the soiled spot on the sleeve of the commanding officer. This done he went at the left side of the blouse where there was a larger blotch of white. In a few moments he had so thoroughly cleaned the blue blouse, by rubbing it violently with the goods of his jacket, that all traces of the white paint had disappeared.

Dan stepped back, saluting respectfully.

"Why, you have taken it all off, but you will have the trouble of cleaning your own jacket."

"I shall have to do that anyway, sir."

"Thank you, my lad."

The captain saluted and pa.s.sed on.

"That boy is as graceful and self-possessed as if he had spent years in the service. I must keep my eye on him. I predict that he will be doing something worth while some of these days."

Dan's face was flushed. He was pleased with himself. Sam glanced over at him and winked gravely.

"I wish I knew how to do things the way you do," he said. "Somehow my feet and hands don't fit the rest of my anatomy. I'm a thickhead and a landlubber, all in one."

"You are all right, if you would only think so," replied Dan.

After the noonday mess the boys were resting on the forward deck when Sam called the attention of his companion to a group of sailors on the port side, leaning against the rail engaged in earnest conversation. The spokesman was no other than Bill Kester. Bill was gesticulating. A sailor appeared to be opposing him in something.

"I wonder what's up?" mused Dan.

"Quarreling again, I guess," decided Sam, rising and strolling forward where he leaned over the bow of the ship, gazing thoughtfully down into the turbulent sea. Now and then a thin shower of spray would mount high in the air and dash over him, the anch.o.r.ed ship having swung about until its bow was headed into the half-gale that was blowing up the coast.

After a time two jackies strolled over to where Dan was sitting, and leaned indolently against the forward twelve-inch turret.

"How's the shipmate to-day?" inquired one.

"Very well, thank you."

"Feeling fit as a fiddle, eh?"

"Never better, though I do feel as if I had been eating paint all my life. I'm all red on the outside and white on the inside. My walls do not need any more dressing," laughed Dan.

"Then we've got a proposition to make to you."

"A what?"

"Proposition."

"What is it?"

"It's usual on shipboard, when one party gets a grouch on against another, to meet according to rules and fight it out."

"Well, what of it?"

"How'd you like to fight, matey?"

"No, thank you," Dan replied, with considerable emphasis, the memory of his previous trouble still being fresh in mind. "Whom do you want me to fight?"

"We haven't said we wanted you to fight anybody. We ain't very strong on having you fight somebody. Somebody wants to fight you, and we've been appointed a committee to come over and consult with you."