The officer of the deck hastened to the spot.

"Sir, stranger without the countersign."

"Man, what do you mean? This is the captain of this ship whom you have halted. What do you mean?"

"Orders, sir, to let no one pa.s.s unless he has the countersign."

"Who is responsible for this?" demanded the captain in a half amused tone.

"I let young Davis take charge of the extra-duty squad, and he formed the men into a guard. They had been patroling the deck for the last hour. I did not interfere, not having any idea the affair would be carried this far, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Man, lower your gun."

"Wait, wait!" exclaimed the captain, raising a restraining hand. "This man has his orders. He is quite right. It is a most excellent idea.

Fine training for these young men. What is the countersign, Carter?"

"I--I don't know, sir."

"What, you the officer of the deck and not know the countersign? I am surprised, sir. Where is Seaman Davis?"

"He was here a moment ago."

Dan at that moment was peering from behind the twelve-inch-gun turret, fairly aghast at the situation in which his efforts to do something original had involved them.

"Davis!" called the officer of the deck, in a sharp voice.

"This is where I get it!" muttered the boy. "Aye, aye, sir," he answered promptly, stepping from behind the turret and hastening toward the group.

"What does this farce mean, sir?" demanded the midshipman.

"I will attend to this, Mr. Carter. Davis, these are your men, are they not?"

"Ye--yes, sir."

"You ordered them to let no one pa.s.s unless he had the countersign?"

"Yes, sir."

"My man, you did quite right," announced the captain, addressing the sentry. "Davis, will you be good enough to give me the countersign?"

"'Never again,'" whispered Dan in the ear of his commanding officer.

"What's that? I asked you for the countersign."

"The countersign is 'never again.'"

For a moment the captain stared, then he roared with laughter.

"'Never again,' my man," he said, whereat the sentry instantly lowered his rifle.

"Well, if that doesn't beat anything I ever heard!" chuckled the captain, grasping Dan by the arm and leading him over to the starboard side of the deck.

CHAPTER XII

OBEYING HIS ORDERS

"Davis, that was a stroke of genius on your part."

"I--I beg your pardon, sir. I did not think how far my thoughtlessness might carry us. I am very sorry, sir."

"You need not be, my lad. If some of our men had as much good sense as you have, there would be fewer extra-duty squads on the quarter-deck.

The effect on those men will be most excellent. Besides learning to obey orders, they will carry the memory of that countersign with them for many a day, and unless they are beyond hope of reform, you will not see them on an extra-duty tour again for a long time. I commend you, Davis. You may dismiss the squad now. They need no further lessons for to-night."

"Captain's orders, sir, to dismiss the squad," announced Dan, stepping up before the officer of the deck and saluting.

"Very well. Get my raincoat if you will, then, for I think it is going to rain before the end of the watch."

Dan saluted and hurried away below to fetch the officer's rain clothes.

A light sprinkle set in that soon covered everything, making the decks slippery; it became hard to keep one's footing. Both the officer of the deck and the anchor watch pulled their rubber coats more closely about them, and, with lowered heads to protect their faces from the drizzle, began walking back and forth.

Eleven o'clock, six bells, rang out; then silence settled over the ship again. Cautiously a head was thrust above the hatch of the upper deck.

No one was in sight, save the dark figures of the midshipman and the anchor watch, far aft on the quarter-deck.

The head lengthened out into a dark figure, which was drawn up through the hatch opening. Without a sound the man slunk across the deck. He appeared to be perfectly familiar with his way, but crouched low, probably so that his moving figure might not catch the watchful eyes of the officer of the deck, or of the anchor watch far below him.

About this time Dan Davis climbed the ladder to the superstructure, took a long, sweeping observation of the upper deck, then descended to the quarter-deck again.

"I thought I heard something up there," he muttered. "It must have been a chain shifting with the roll of the ship."

In the meantime the figure had flattened itself on the deck. When sure that the anchor watch had gone aft, the man rose and crept silently toward the side of the ship.

He was safe now. He knew that the watch was not likely to come to the superstructure for the next hour at least. The fellow had stumbled over a chain. The sound, faint and far away as it had been, caught Dan's ear instantly, leading him to mount the superstructure for an observation.

"Everything secure above there?" demanded the officer of the deck.

"Aye, aye, sir."

"I thought perhaps you heard something, from the way you went up."

"I thought so, too, sir, but I must have been mistaken. I saw no one."

Reaching the side of the ship the figure hesitated a moment, then quickly climbed through the rail. He was just opposite the lower boom, the long, strong pole along which the sailors step to get down into the small boats.

Trailing from a long rope at the end of the lower boat rode the ship's dinghy, where she had been left for the night, as had other boats on the opposite or starboard side.

Now a second figure seemed to rise directly out of the deck, and an instant later it too had crept out on the lower boom. The men on the quarter-deck could not see forward to the lower boom without leaning out over the ship's rail, so the two men were un.o.bserved.

Reaching the end of the boom, the men quickly let themselves down the Jacob's ladder, dropping noiselessly into the dinghy. They had some little trouble in casting the boat off, it having been made doubly secure for the night.