Never sit down when on duty. Stand at attention when the captain comes out and remain that way until he has pa.s.sed. After that, follow him."

"Aye, aye, sir."

The Battleship Boy peered after the retreating form of the officer.

"Seems to me they are mighty particular. I'd like to be up where I could get some air. I wonder if I dare take a sneak to the deck for a whiff?"

Sam did not get the chance just then. It was well for him that he did not, for he would have been severely punished for deserting his post had he been discovered away from it. He started as a sharp command came, from behind the curtain.

"Ord'ly!"

"Who's calling, I wonder?" muttered the boy.

"Ord'ly!" This time the command was given in a more imperative tone.

"I'll bet that is the captain. He's calling me. Yes, sir! I'll be right there," shouted Sam, with delightful informality.

He started on a run for the curtained doorway. He did not slacken his speed as he stretched out a hand to thrust the curtain aside. Sam was in so great a hurry that he entirely forgot that under each watertight door opening was an iron sill extending upward some eight inches.

Sam's toe caught the projection. Just then the battleship gave a great lurch to port. This being the direction in which the boy was traveling at that moment, it gave him added impetus.

The captain opened his eyes in amazement as Hickey's red-head shot through the curtain.

The Battleship Boy covered about half the width of the cabin, barely touching the floor with his feet, his arms beating the air wildly in his fruitless effort to clutch something that was not moving.

Then the crash came.

Sam landed on his head and shoulders, skated along the slippery floor, headed for the captain's breakfast table. He hit the mark squarely. That is, he slid right underneath the table, at the same time turning over on his back in an effort to stop his rapid flight.

Sam threw up his feet. The move was fatal. The captain's table was lifted right up into the air. A crashing of dishes followed as the table turned turtle. A shower of broken gla.s.sware rained down over the head of the Battleship Boy followed quickly by the table itself.

Sam lay buried beneath the wreckage.

He did not move, not because he could not, but because he dared not. He feared any movement on his part would mean the end of the world so far as he was concerned.

CHAPTER XIX-THE WORK OF AN ENEMY

"Get up, lad!" commanded the captain, himself removing the table from his unfortunate orderly.

Sam got himself out from the wreckage, and slowly rose to his feet, ruefully surveying the scene before him. He did not speak. There were no words that would probably express his feelings at that moment.

The captain pressed a b.u.t.ton, whereupon his colored steward hurried in.

The steward's eyes opened as he caught sight of the ruined china and gla.s.sware.

"Steward, clear this rubbish away and be quick about it," the captain directed in a calm voice. "Is this the way you usually respond to an officer's summons?" fixing his eyes upon the culprit. There was a quiver about the lips of the commanding officer of the battleship "Long Island," but Sam was too much upset to observe it.

"N-n-no, sir."

"I approve of your prompt attention to duty, lad, but you will have to learn to control yourself."

"I-I am very sorry, sir."

"Never mind, lad; you will learn. This is the first time you ever acted as orderly, is it not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then I will instruct you in your duties, for you no doubt will be called upon to perform this duty many times during your service."

The captain's kindly tone went straight to the heart of the Battleship Boy.

"In the first place, when you come to the door bearing a message for me you should halt outside and rap, saying, 'orderly, sir'; then wait for the summons to enter. When I call you to give you some directions, you need not rap. Say nothing, but enter and come to attention. Do you understand!"

"Yes, sir."

"I am sure you will do better next time. You will now go to the officer of the deck, and say that I wish to see Mr. Coates, the executive officer, at his early convenience."

"Aye, aye, sir," answered Sam, backing away. He bethought himself of the door sill just in time to prevent another tumble, this time out into the corridor.

Sam delivered his message and returned to his station, where he pondered deeply over what had befallen him.

"I hope the boys don't hear about that," he muttered. "They'd make this ship so warm for me that I should have to jump overboard. I-I couldn't stand it; that's all."

Shortly after that, the captain decided to make an inspection of the ship. It was a long and tiresome journey. For the next two hours Sam Hickey was climbing down and up ladders, crawling through narrow s.p.a.ces, his head swimming, his face red and perspiring.

"This orderly business isn't all it is supposed to be," he complained to himself, when once more they had emerged upon the quarter-deck, Sam following obediently behind the ship's commander. From there, they went to the bridge.

"How are you headed?" questioned the captain of the man at the wheel.

"South, southeast one half," came the answer.

"Mr. Coates, the storm appears to be abating. I think we may safely turn about and steam slowly back toward our anchorage now."

They were out of sight of land by this time. The big ship was turned about and headed back over the reverse course. At noon, eight bells again, Hickey was relieved from his duty, another man taking his place.

The boy heaved a deep sigh of relief and hurried forward to hunt up Dan, to whom he confided his experiences of the morning. Dan laughed until he could laugh no more.

"Don't-don't tell any of the fellows, please," begged Sam.

"It's too-it's too good to keep," gasped Dan between laughs.

"Dan Davis, if you tell a human being about that I'll thrash you worse than either of us thrashed Bill Kester. Now tell about it, if you want to."

Dan sobered.

"Very well; if you feel that badly about it I won't say a word."