"That's just the trouble. If it was only skin deep I wouldn't give a rap. The trouble with those fellows is that the black goes all the way through. I'll bet they are black clear to the bones. If Pills ever has to cut either of them open for anything I'm going to take a peek."

"I am surprised at you, Sam," chided Davis.

"You needn't be. You'll find, one of these days, that I am right. But how about that house and lot?"

"If you keep on talking to me, hammocks will be piped up before I finish my letter."

"Go on with your writing. I'm mum." Sam sat down and was soon lost in deep thought.

"There," announced Dan finally. "I guess that's all I can write to-night. I've done eight pages. That's pretty good for a sailor."

"I never wrote as much as that in all my life--that is, I never wrote as much as that in letters. Say, Dan."

"Yes."

"Do you mind if I say a few words to Mother Davis at the end of your letter!"

"Of course, you may. Mother will be delighted."

"All right. You go outside and take a walk for your health. I can't write with anybody looking at me. It makes me nervous."

"Too bad about your sensitive nerves," retorted the other with a laugh.

"All right; I'll go out. Do not be long, for it is nearly hammock time."

Leaving Sam grumbling about having to go to bed at nine o'clock, Dan strolled out on the deck.

"Dear Mother Davis," began Sam, "I want to tell you that your Dan isn't the only jackie who has money. I've got two hundred dollars, too. But I haven't any mother. The two hundred isn't any good to me. I've been thinking of giving it to the government some of these times, for they could use it where it would do some good. I've got a new idea, now.

I'm going to send the two hundred to you, along with Dan's. You start that house right away, and, by the time all the money is used up, Dan and I will have some more for you. We're getting too rich. If Dan kicks about it, you know how to stop him. P. S. I'm a real sailor, now. I've got a rating and a pig's foot. The rating made me glad, but the pig's foot hurt worse than having a tooth pulled. Lovingly, Sam."

CHAPTER X

HIS NARROW ESCAPE

Leaving Sam in the throes of composition, Dan walked out on deck. A few moments later he uttered a sharp exclamation and clapped a hand to his left ear, through which he felt a sudden, sharp pain. As he brought the hand away, the fingers felt wet.

Dan stepped up under a port light that opened out to the deck, and, holding up the fingers, peered at them.

"Blood, eh! Well, that's funny. Something must have hit me."

He glanced about him. He was almost alone; there were not a half dozen sailors on deck, and these lay stretched out, sleeping soundly in the cool evening air.

"That is strange," wondered the lad, trying to stanch the flow of blood with his handkerchief. He had been about to turn back and rejoin Sam when the incident occurred.

Dan paused to think over just what had happened.

"Oh, I remember, now. I heard something strike the deck. That must have been after it hit me. I'll see if I can find out what it was."

Stepping carefully along over the deck, feeling with his toes, the boy almost tripped over some object which he knew did not belong there.

With an exclamation Dan stooped over. His hand came in contact with a piece of cold steel. The instant his fingers touched it he knew what he had found.

"A marline spike," breathed Dan. "No wonder it hurt."

The missile that had hit him is used for twisting the strands of rope apart. It is of steel, about eight inches long, and tapers to a needle point. It makes a most dangerous weapon.

Dan carried this to the light, examining it carefully. Its point was still moist where it had caught him.

"Somebody must have tried to kill me," he muttered. "An inch further, and I certainly should have been a dead one. Who could have done such a dastardly thing? I can't understand it at all."

The lad hurried back to where he had left his companion. Sam started to speak, but he saw something in the face of Dan Davis that suddenly checked his levity.

"Why, what's the matter?" he cried.

"Nothing, except that some one tried to kill me just now."

"Tried to kill you?"

"Yes; look here."

Dan removed the handkerchief, and Sam, with gentle fingers, made a careful examination of the wound.

"Punched a hole right through the lobe of your ear. Who did that?" he demanded in a low, tense voice.

"I wish I knew."

"How did they do it? It looks as if you had been shot."

"They did it with this, Sam," answered Dan, exhibiting the marline spike.

Sam uttered a low growl, as he took the pointed spike, holding it in his hand reflectively.

"You must have that dressed, right away. Come along. We'll go to see Pills. There is time, if we hurry."

"Yes; I guess it had better be attended to. I shall have such a big ear to-morrow that they will not have me on deck."

"Worse cauliflower ear than you gave Bill Kester," laughed Sam. "We'll look into this business in the morning. We shan't have time to-night, I'm sorry to say."

On their way to the sick bay, where they were hurrying to have the wound dressed, the boys were obliged to pa.s.s the quarters of the master-at-arms, the minor official who is responsible for the behavior of all hands on shipboard.

Ere Dan could protest, Sam had rapped on the door casing, and an instant later was dragging his companion in through the curtained doorway.

"Now what do you think of that, sir?" exclaimed the red-headed boy.

"Seaman Davis got hurt, eh?" questioned the petty officer, noting the blood on Dan's cheek.

"Yes, sir. I am on my way to see the surgeon. If I have to be a few moments late in reporting for hammocks, will you excuse me?"