The battle waged so furiously that for the moment the lad forgot all about the other man in the boat. White was stealthily rising to his feet, watching the Battleship Boy with keen, menacing eyes.

All at once he swung his oar. Dan heard it as it cut the air, but at that instant he was powerless to dodge the blow, being busy parrying one from Black.

White's oar caught Dan on the head. The Battleship Boy wavered for a brief instant, seeking vainly to catch his balance; then he toppled over backwards into the sea.

Fortunately for him, the blow had been a glancing one.

"Row, row!" cried Black. His companion fell to the oars. The men, as they well knew, were now in a desperate situation.

Dan twisted his body about in the water, his fingers closing over the gunwale of his own boat. The blow had dazed him, though he still had plenty of fight left in him.

He clambered back into his own boat with no little effort, for his clothes were soaked and weighed him down, this being the second wetting he had had within a very short time.

The other dinghy now had a slight start of him, but when the Hawaiians looked back a moment later, they saw Dan again in their wake.

The Battleship Boy's jaws were set. His fighting blood was up. He would give no quarter now.

"I'll get those heathens at any cost," he growled.

He had forgotten all about the whaleboats that had been sent for the men. Perhaps they had lost their quarry on the dark waters.

"I'm after you," shouted Dan. "This time I'm going to get you, you miserable deserters! Things like you deserve to be drowned without the formality of court-martial. Do you surrender?"

"No."

No sooner were the words out of the Hawaiian's mouth than Dan drove his dinghy bow-on against the other boat. So sudden and unexpected had been the movement that the islanders were taken wholly off their guard.

Black fell forward, nearly going into the sea, while White, who was at the oars, lost his grip on them for the moment.

A crunching sound accompanied the collision. The bow of Dan's boat was crushed in the thin planking of the other dinghy. The hurt was not deep enough to sink the little craft, but it made an opening through which the seas slopped persistently.

Dan sought to swing his boat alongside the other, when a sea unexpectedly threw him off. A full minute of valuable time was thus lost. Still Dan persisted. He was working at high speed now.

This time he drove his boat right up beside the other, so close that the two boats smashed together with a force that threatened to break in their gunwales.

Black, in the time that it took Dan to get closer, had recovered himself and grasped an oar from his companion. Ere the Battleship Boy could ship his oars the enemy had swung an oar. It caught Dan a glancing blow on the forehead, the sharp edge of the oar cutting a deep gash there. The blood was in the lad's eyes instantly. He brushed his eyes clear with an exclamation of impatience.

The oar was raised for another blow. Davis did not stand still to wait for it to land this time. With a bound he was in the other boat. He had jumped from the seat of his own dinghy, measuring the distance well.

Black was taken by surprise. He had no time to dodge. Dan landed full upon him, the two falling to the bottom of the boat with a crash and a jolt that threatened to overturn the little craft.

For a few seconds the men struggled desperately, Black squirming and twisting in his efforts to get his hands up.

"He's trying to get his knife," was the Battleship Boy's swift conclusion. "I hate to do it, but I've got to, or they will have me in the sea."

He raised Black's head, giving it two sharp thumps against the ribs of the boat. That settled Black for the time being. The Hawaiian straightened out and lay still. But Dan had been none too quick.

White was standing over him with raised oar ready to bring it down at the first opportunity. He had not dared to strike before, not being able to make out his enemy as the two figures struggled at the bottom of the dinghy.

The instant that he saw Dan scrambling up he brought the oar down. Dan dodged the blow cleverly, the blade of the oar landing on the side of Black's head, thus finishing the work that the Battleship Boy had begun.

The two men sprang at each other at the same instant. This time the boy found that in White he had a far different antagonist. White met him with a swift blow which barely grazed Dan's head. Dan countered as best he could, planting a blow on the Hawaiian's chest, staggering the fellow and at the same time well-nigh upsetting the boat.

Blow after blow was struck in the rocking boat, now and then each of the contestants landing a staggering punch on his adversary's head.

All at once Dan lost his footing and fell. As he did so, he stretched forth a hand, and by desperate effort succeeded in fastening his hold upon the Hawaiian's arm.

White lost his balance and pitched forward.

Both men fell half over the side of the dinghy with heads and shoulders in the sea. For the next few seconds a desperate struggle followed.

Dan held to his man, knowing full well that, were his adversary to get the upper hand now, it would go hard with Dan Davis. Using their free hands, the men managed to pull themselves back into the boat.

By this time both were well-nigh exhausted. Their efforts were attended with little success compared with what they had done earlier in the battle. White was struggling to get his adversary overboard, while Dan was seeking to overcome the Hawaiian without doing him serious injury.

All at once the men stumbled over a seat. Dan fell p.r.o.ne upon the prostrate Black, with White on top of him. And there the gladiators lay, breathing hard, gasping for breath, half suffocated with the salt water that was dashing into their faces.

Everything about him seemed to Dan suddenly to grow blacker than before. He felt his head swimming.

"I'm going to faint," he gasped.

With one final supreme effort he threw the weight of White's body from him, and, rolling over, wrapped his arms about the Hawaiian, crushing the fellow down with all his strength.

CHAPTER XIV

ORDERED TO THE SICK BAY

A light came dancing over the long, even swells, sending up a shower of spray as it smashed into the white crests of the swells.

It was whaleboat number one from the battleship.

"Sing out!" commanded the officer in charge of the boat.

"Dinghy, ahoy!" shouted the seaman who was standing braced in the bow of the whaleboat, scanning the waters ahead.

There was no response to his hail.

The seaman put down the megaphone that he had been using, and, raising his telescope, swept the waters.

"Boat, sir, two points off the port bow," sang the lookout.

"c.o.xswain, lay your course two points to port."

"Aye, aye, sir."

The whaleboat headed for the speck that the lookout had made out through his gla.s.s. In a few minutes the whaleboat had drawn up alongside.

"She's empty, sir."

"Do you make out the other boat?"