"As a gunner I'll mess with the other warrant officers," exclaimed Caleb Walton, in reply to a question about messes from Walter. "You see, there are a great number of tables. The commodore is entitled to dine alone, so is the captain and the commander, while the other officers have what they call the wardroom mess. Then there are the steerage mess, for midshipmen, ensigns, and clerks; the master-at-arm's mess, for yeomen, machinists, boiler-makers, and so on; and three or four other messes besides, including that to which you will belong. We gunners dine with the boatswain, sail-maker, and carpenter." The meal was a plain one, of bread and butter, coffee, cold corned beef, and apple sauce, but it was well cooked, and all the new men and boys ate heartily. As soon as it was finished, Walton hurried off to interview Captain Cook, if he could obtain that privilege. "Well, where are we going to sleep? I don't see any beds," said one of the boys, a timid lad named Paul Harbig. His query brought forth a roar. "Your bed is rolled up and lashed away, Paul," answered Si, who had rather taken to the little lad. "Do you see those gratings over yonder?" "Yes." "Well, all the hammocks for this deck are stowed away behind that. When it comes time to go to bed, we'll get them out, fasten them up to the hooks you see about you, and there you are. And let me tell you there is nothing finer nor a good canvas hammock to sleep in. I'll take it before I take a greasy, dirty bunk in a buggy fo'castle every time." "But a fellow may fall out," suggested Paul. "If you're afraid of that, get a rope's-end and tie yourself in," answered Si, philosophically. "But you won't tumble, unless we strike some putty rough weather." The order was now passed to bring along all baggage, and Walter and Si picked up their satchels. Thinking to take out several things he needed, the Yankee youth opened his bag and put his hand inside. "By ginger!" came from him in an undertone, but loud enough for Walter to hear. "What's up, Si?" "Thet ten-dollar gold piece is gone!" "Are you sure? Perhaps it has slipped among some of the clothing." "I'll soon see," was the quick response, and the Yankee youth dumped the articles out in a heap. Sure enough, the golden eagle was gone. "Somebody has robbed me," came in a groan. "Now who did it, do you suppose?" "I'm sure I don't know. It might have been done here or on the train, or at the depot." Si looked around him sharply. Not far away stood Jim Haskett, watching him intently. As soon as the ex-mate of the _Sunflower_ saw that he was noticed he turned away. "I've got half a notion Haskett was the one to play me foul," he whispered to Walter. "What do you think?" "He wouldn't be much of a man to rob a messmate of ten dollars."