Part 36 (1/2)

Never sit down when on duty. Stand at attention when the captain comes out and remain that way until he has pa.s.sed. After that, follow him.”

”Aye, aye, sir.”

The Battles.h.i.+p Boy peered after the retreating form of the officer.

”Seems to me they are mighty particular. I'd like to be up where I could get some air. I wonder if I dare take a sneak to the deck for a whiff?”

Sam did not get the chance just then. It was well for him that he did not, for he would have been severely punished for deserting his post had he been discovered away from it. He started as a sharp command came, from behind the curtain.

”Ord'ly!”

”Who's calling, I wonder?” muttered the boy.

”Ord'ly!” This time the command was given in a more imperative tone.

”I'll bet that is the captain. He's calling me. Yes, sir! I'll be right there,” shouted Sam, with delightful informality.

He started on a run for the curtained doorway. He did not slacken his speed as he stretched out a hand to thrust the curtain aside. Sam was in so great a hurry that he entirely forgot that under each watertight door opening was an iron sill extending upward some eight inches.

Sam's toe caught the projection. Just then the battles.h.i.+p gave a great lurch to port. This being the direction in which the boy was traveling at that moment, it gave him added impetus.

The captain opened his eyes in amazement as Hickey's red-head shot through the curtain.

The Battles.h.i.+p Boy covered about half the width of the cabin, barely touching the floor with his feet, his arms beating the air wildly in his fruitless effort to clutch something that was not moving.

Then the crash came.

Sam landed on his head and shoulders, skated along the slippery floor, headed for the captain's breakfast table. He hit the mark squarely. That is, he slid right underneath the table, at the same time turning over on his back in an effort to stop his rapid flight.

Sam threw up his feet. The move was fatal. The captain's table was lifted right up into the air. A cras.h.i.+ng of dishes followed as the table turned turtle. A shower of broken gla.s.sware rained down over the head of the Battles.h.i.+p Boy followed quickly by the table itself.

Sam lay buried beneath the wreckage.

He did not move, not because he could not, but because he dared not. He feared any movement on his part would mean the end of the world so far as he was concerned.

CHAPTER XIX-THE WORK OF AN ENEMY

”Get up, lad!” commanded the captain, himself removing the table from his unfortunate orderly.

Sam got himself out from the wreckage, and slowly rose to his feet, ruefully surveying the scene before him. He did not speak. There were no words that would probably express his feelings at that moment.

The captain pressed a b.u.t.ton, whereupon his colored steward hurried in.

The steward's eyes opened as he caught sight of the ruined china and gla.s.sware.

”Steward, clear this rubbish away and be quick about it,” the captain directed in a calm voice. ”Is this the way you usually respond to an officer's summons?” fixing his eyes upon the culprit. There was a quiver about the lips of the commanding officer of the battles.h.i.+p ”Long Island,” but Sam was too much upset to observe it.

”N-n-no, sir.”