CHAPTER XVI

A SURPRISE, INDEED

"I expect you'll be getting your whole head knocked off some of these days," growled Sam Hickey.

"It has not been knocked off yet," answered Dan with a laugh, "though it has had a considerable list to starboard on occasions."

"I should say it had. I'm glad those n.i.g.g.e.rs are in the brig.

They----"

"Don't use that word, please. I never liked it. And, besides, they are not Africans; they are Hawaiians."

"They ought to have been shot. Anyhow, all black looks the same color to me."

The lads were lounging on deck in the forecastle. It was Wednesday afternoon, when all hands ordinarily take a half holiday, except those who are on duty. The battleship "Long Island" was plowing up the waters off the coast--"coasting," they call it on shipboard. The officers on the bridge were taking sights at the ranges--light houses--with their s.e.xtants, while the young midshipmen, under the direction of the ship's navigator, were mathematically working out the ship's position.

"I never could understand why they have to go to all that trouble,"

said Sam.

"They are figuring out our position--they are trying to find out where we are."

"Don't we know where we are?"

"We don't. Perhaps the officers do."

"Pooh! I know where we are, and I don't have to get a s.e.xtant and a lot of other junk to tell me, either," scoffed the red-headed boy.

"Well, where are we, Mr. Smarty, if you know so much?"

"We're off Atlantic City. That's the Absecon light off the port bow.

I could knock the top of it off with the seven-inch if I had half a chance."

"That may be true, Sam, but suppose there were a fog, or the lights on sh.o.r.e went out, or one of many things were to occur--supposing we were hundreds of miles out at sea and--well, how would you find out where you were, if you had no instruments with which to take your observations, or did not know how to use those you had?"

"Hold on; that's enough. Don't put on any more tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs. I'd do without 'em, even if it were as bad as you say, and I'd never miss 'em, either."

"What would you do?"

"Do? I'd just keep going by the compa.s.s."

"But supposing the compa.s.s were wrong?"

"I'd keep going, just the same, till I got somewhere--till I plumped up against something solid; then I'd sing out, 'full speed astern, both engines,' just like the 'Old Man' does up there, when the man in the chains sings out 'by the mark five.' He's awful afraid the old ship will sc.r.a.pe over a sand bar. Between you and me it would be good for her. Why, don't you see, it would sc.r.a.pe the barnacles off her so she wouldn't have to go into dry dock and cost the government all that money. I know something about ships, I do."

"And what you do not know would sink all the ships in the Navy,"

answered Dan, emphasizing his reply by several nods of his head.

"Don't you believe it."

"Here comes the boatswain's mate. I think he is looking for us. Yes, he's coming this way. I reckon we shall have to turn out for some duty."

"I'll run and hide, then. I am not going to work this afternoon. He can't get me interested in any of his patriotic games to-day. No, siree!"

But Sam was destined to become greatly interested in the work that the boatswain's mate had come to talk with them about.

"Good afternoon, boys," he greeted them. "How is your head, Davis?"

"Oh, I had almost forgotten that I had a head," laughed Dan, instinctively laying a hand on the bandage that was bound about his wound.

"You did pretty well the other night in overhauling that boat. Have you done much rowing!"

"Oh, yes; considerable on the river at home. I have rowed in races there--small rowboat races--and so has my friend Sam."

"I thought you were pretty handy about small boats. It is a good thing for a seaman to know boats."

"I wonder what he's getting at?" muttered Sam, eyeing the boatswain's mate suspiciously. "He isn't here for any good, I am sure of that."

The boy had noted that the boatswain's mate was eyeing them closely, tilting his head to one side and squinting out of one eye as if he were sighting a big gun.

"Don't shoot," laughed Sam.

"What's that?"

"Nothing, only I thought you were getting ready to shoot, the way you were squinting at me."

"We are going to have some races ourselves in about three weeks."

"Is that so?" exclaimed Dan.

"Out here on the ocean?" demanded Sam.

"Not exactly out here, but in some bay along the coast. These races are a big thing and arouse a lot of interest."

"Whom do you race with?" asked Dan.

"With crews from the other ships. We race for silver cups and the rivalry is very keen. You have seen our racing gig, have you not, boys?"

"Oh, yes; that's so. I had forgotten about the gig. It's up on the upper deck, starboard side, isn't it?" queried Dan.

"Yes; that's the boat. She's one of the slickest boats in the service."

"Pretty heavy for racing, isn't she?" questioned Dan.

"They have to be for sea racing. You see, we frequently run into some foul weather. No paper sh.e.l.ls for that kind of racing. It's a man's game, every inch of it," announced the boatswain's mate, Joe Harper by name.

"I should think it must be. What grand sport," breathed Dan. "How many men do you have in the boat?"

"Twelve, including the c.o.xswain. We have some likely material on board this season."