Captain Blynn rose hurriedly from his chair, his dark face swollen with passion; his black eyes flashed, while his strong hands clutched his chair nervously. He was about to speak, but Phil cut him short, pointing his finger toward the exit to the deck. “I hope, Captain Blynn,” he said quietly though his lips were trembling, “that you will see the uselessness of further talk and will go ashore as I have bid you.” “You confounded little whipper-snapper!” the captain exploded wrathfully. The stern judge-advocate was unused to such treatment; he had always bullied those under him and in a measure by the very force of his will, many of those senior to him in rank. But angry as he was he realized that the midshipman was quite within his rights. He was on board his own ship, and there he was supreme. “Captain Blynn, I hope it will not be necessary for me to have you escorted across the gangway,” Phil reiterated, his voice showing perfect control of temper. The lad glanced forward meaningly to where many of the crew had collected, intently listening to the heated colloquy between their young captain and this big, blustering army officer. Then a voice from the dock made both the combatants turn suddenly and gaze in surprise at the general, who, unobserved, had stopped abreast them and had been an amused spectator of the discomfiture of his judge-advocate. “I’ll tear up that telegram as soon as I get to the office,” he exclaimed chuckling gleefully; “and, Blynn, you’d better come ashore here before Captain Perry pitches you over the gangway.” Captain Blynn had but one great fault and that was his inability to consider that anything mattered outside of his beloved work. Ruthlessly he would trample over those in the way of success. Once he was on the trail of a wrong-doer, he would follow it fearlessly until the culprit was behind bars.