The Battleship Boys at Sea Part 25

"No; leave him for the kid to take care of."

"Yes, leave him to me," interrupted Sam, raising himself on one elbow.

"I'll take care of him when my head gets plumb on my shoulders again.

Did he hit me with a brick?"

Before replying, the jackies conducted Kester to the forward bulkhead door. Through this they thrust him, half a dozen heavy shoes landing on him in swift kicks as he disappeared through the door.

"What did you let him go for?" demanded Hickey getting his feet, leaning against the b.u.t.t of a big gun for support. He was weak and trembling, but not for an instant did his natural grit desert him.

"That's all right, s.h.i.+pmate. You ain't in no condition to mix it up with Bill. You wait till some other time and you'll get your chance and it'll be a fair and square knock-down fight, no under the belt foul tactics either. You're the right kind, and we're with you, even if you have got a combustible head of hair on you, and that stands all the time."

Sam took his way forward thoughtfully. He was still suffering from his illness and, besides, was weak from the effects of the blow he had received from Bill Kester.

In the meantime, Kester, holding a handkerchief to his face, was making his way toward the surgeon's quarters. His face was in sad need of repair, but he sought to hide that fact from his a.s.sociates.

"h.e.l.lo, Bill, what's the matter? Have an argument with somebody?"

greeted a s.h.i.+pmate, with a quizzical squint at the bully's face.

"I ran into a stanchion," explained Kester lamely, proceeding on his way, avoiding the curiosity of the men as much as possible.

The surgeon, the instant he had taken a look at the man's face, however, saw that something more than a stanchion had hit Bill on the nose. All his questions, however, were avoided. On his report to the captain, which the surgeon made every night, was the notation: "Bill Kester, seaman, badly battered face, broken nose, with a deep gash in it, evidently made by some sharp instrument. This man has been undoubtedly in a b.l.o.o.d.y fight."

That was all, but it was quite sufficient to start the wheels of discipline moving. That evening Kester was called upon by the master-at-arms.

"Kester, I have come to ask you with whom you were in a fight to-day?"

"How'd you know I was in a fight?" demanded the seaman in a surly tone.

"Your face answers that question. Who was it?"

"Hickey."

"The recruit?"

"Yes."

There was a quizzical look in the eyes of the master-at-arms. That a bully of Kester's reputation should have been used up in this manner by a raw recruit was somewhat of a surprise to him.

"What did he hit you with?"

Bill hesitated.

"What did he hit you with?"

"A deck swab."

"And you nagged him to it?"

"No, I didn't. I didn't do anything till I got it."

"Very well. Do you wish to make a charge against the man?"

"Yes."

There was no further investigation that night. The master-at-arms'

report was made to the captain. But that night Sam recounted to his companion, Dan Davis, all that had occurred. Dan listened attentively, asking a question now and then.

"I do not see how you could have acted differently unless you had run away, and I shouldn't want to think you had done such a thing. I would much rather see you punished than to know you had acted the part of a coward."

"Don't use that word," begged Sam. "Kester did. That was what clinched the whole business. If he hadn't done that, I might not have hit him, even though he slapped me."

A dull flush suffused the cheeks of the Battles.h.i.+p Boy at the memory of what had occurred, but his voice was calm and without the slightest emotion.

"Do you think there will be a row about it?" he asked.

"I hope not. If there is, take your medicine like a man," advised Dan.

"I will. I'm feeling better now. I guess I needed a good shaking up to jar the seasickness out of me. I haven't that 'went-away' feeling now."

"I guess you must mean a 'gone' feeling, do you not?" smiled Dan.

"Yes; I was gone, all right."

"Well, don't worry about it. Nothing may happen as the result of your fight."

"Fight? Do you call that a fight? It wasn't a fight. If I had been feeling right there might have been a fight. There may be yet. I have an idea I have not heard the last of Kester. If he gives me half a chance I'm going to pay him back for that cowardly blow."

"Be sure you are in the right, Sam," cautioned Dan. "Keep your head.

Defend yourself, if you have to, but see to it that you do not stir up any trouble."

Dan's advice always was good, and Sam gave more heed to it than he appeared to. As a matter of fact, he set much store by the advice and counsel of his cool-headed friend, Dan Davis.

That evening pa.s.sed uneventfully and the lads enjoyed a refres.h.i.+ng night, with the cool breezes from the sea blowing over their swaying hammocks.

On the following morning after breakfast the master-at-arms tapped Sam on the shoulder.

"You will report at mast on the quarter-deck at one o'clock, sharp," he said.

"Mast?" wondered Sam.

"Yes."

"What for?"

"A charge has been laid against you."

"What sort of charge?"

"a.s.saulting a s.h.i.+pmate and beating him."