"I will let you know in a few minutes whether I shall or not."

"What are you going to do?"

"Find out where I am at first," answered Dan, turning away and hurrying below. He went directly to the quarters of the boatswain's mate, and, after calling out his own name at the door, was told to enter.

"What is it, my lad?"

Dan briefly related the story of the proposition that had been made to him to fight Kester. The mate listened gravely until he had finished.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"That is what I have come to ask you, sir. You told us to consult you when we were in doubt or needed advice."

"I certainly did."

"I am in need of advice right now-very much in need of it, sir."

"There is bad blood between you two, is there not?"

"You might call it that. I cannot say that I have any feeling either way. You know my chum was sent to the brig for having a mix-up with Kester. I might share the same fate."

"Tell me the details of that trouble. I have not heard the inside."

Dan did so briefly.

"The coward!" muttered the boatswain's mate, upon hearing how Kester had knocked Sam Hickey down. "Meet him, by all means."

"But, sir, shall I not be disciplined for so doing?"

"No, lad. Fighting, it is true, is severely punished on board the ships of the Navy, but boxing is encouraged. We are all fighting men; therefore we should all know how to fight, under proper regulations. You will get fair play; the men will see to that."

"I think I shall be able to take care of myself," smiled Dan. "I want to be sure that I shall not get into disgrace, that's all."

"No danger. But I do not like to see a boy so young pitted against an experienced man like Kester. It isn't fair. However, if you are greatly overmatched, the bout will be promptly stopped. You will have shown your grit."

"Thank you very much. You have relieved my mind."

Dan made his way back to the forecastle where he found Sam waiting for him.

"Well, how about it?"

"It's all right. I will meet him if the terms are satisfactory. Will you be my second, Sam?"

"Of course. You do not have to ask that. I'll go consult Kester's seconds now."

Later on Sam rejoined his companion.

"How is it going to be carried off?" questioned Dan.

"The men are going to pick out a referee. You and Kester are to box with eight ounce gloves until the referee stops you, or either of you decide you have had enough. You will get a fair show, the boys say. They won't stand for Bill's punishing you brutally. They admire your pluck in meeting him. If you could thrash him, Dan Davis, I'd be willing to go to the brig again, and feed on bread and water for a month."

"I'm lucky if I do not get there myself," grinned Dan. "When is it to take place?"

"At seven bells this evening, half-past seven. There goes the bugle. We must get at our painting again."

CHAPTER XVII-PROVING HIS COURAGE

The day continued rough, and, there being no further hope of planting a mine field, the work of cleaning ship was proceeded with.

All hands forward were discussing the coming battle-the evening's fun.

They knew they would have it. None, however, doubted that Kester, in a regular match, would prove too much for his young adversary, Kester being the hero of so many successful battles.

Those who had seen Dan handle the bully on the forecastle, however, predicted that the Battleship Boy would give a good account of himself, though they agreed that Kester was much the stronger man, and the more experienced of the two.

As for Dan Davis, he appeared not to be troubling himself in the least about the coming battle. He went about his work cheerfully, ate his usual supper and, while the smoke lamp was lighted after supper, wandered about the forecastle chatting with his shipmates happily, without once referring to the coming contest.

At a little after seven o'clock three jackies began stretching a rope about a portion of the deck on the starboard side, while two others were rigging some electric lights over the spot.

Dan paused with hands behind his back, watching the work curiously.

"You had better get ready," suggested a tar. "The thing comes off sharp at seven bells."

"I have nothing to get ready."

"You want to put on your fighting togs, don't you?"

"What fighting togs?"

"Your trunks."

"No. I'll box as I am. I don't have to go in like a professional pugilist."

"You'll be at a disadvantage, then."

"That will be my lookout, thank you."

Upon glancing about the lad observed that there were no officers in sight. There was a reason for that, though he did not know it. The officers had been fully informed of what was to take place that evening, and hence discreetly kept away from the forecastle. However, there was, unknown to the others, a commissioned officer standing behind the weather cloth on the navigator's bridge.

The particular officer was an ensign, and when the hour for the boxing match approached he was joined by a brother officer. They peered down on the active scene below with keen interest. Being in a deep shadow they were un.o.bserved by the men on the forward deck.

Kester had not yet made his appearance, and the jackies shook their heads as they saw Dan strolling about, chatting and joking with a shipmate.

"That's the fellow," said one of the ensigns to his companion, at the same time pointing to Dan.

"Seems pretty light to match with a man of Kester's build, doesn't he?"