He handed over the telltale paper as he spoke, and after a glance at it the face of Scott Clemmons crimsoned to a painful extent, and then so suddenly grew white that he seemed as though about to faint. But he rallied quickly, and with a reckless laugh said: “Oh, yes, I had not missed it. It is the pledged word of that scamp Breslin never to come near me again, as I suppose you know?” “Yes, I read it, I frankly confess, for it was handed to me open; but you pay high for the loss of Breslin’s society, Clemmons, and one would almost think he blackmailed you. That was all I wished to see you about,” and Perry walked away, leaving Scott Clemmons in a very unenviable humor. After a few days passed in the harbor of the metropolis the good ship set sail and headed across the seas for a run to English, French, Spanish, Italian, and Egyptian ports, that the young sailors might have a glance at other lands and also enjoy to its full extent “A life on the ocean wave, A home on the rolling deep.” CHAPTER XLII. “MAN OVERBOARD!” The cruiser is in midocean, bowling merrily along over a dark sea, growing darker and rougher under the approach of a storm and increasing wind. As the breeze freshens a strong swell causes the ship to roll heavily, and the barometer steadily going down, causes the officer of the deck to keep his weather eye to windward alow and aloft. “Knowing ones,” old salts who have sailed the seas over for a generation or more, also cock an eye to windward now and then, but of course, feel only confidence in their officers and the man who happens just at that time to hold the ship’s destiny in his keeping. The ship has been kept well crowded with sail, and the wind being fair the run across promises to be a phenomenal one, a promise that pleases all hands. The middies have had their chance to work the ship in fair weather and foul, but just now the falling barometer promises a night of it that will blow great guns, for the cloud-bank is steadily rising and the wind comes in stronger and stronger squalls. The ship is sticking her nose deep into huge white billows, but surging ahead the while in splendid manner. Suddenly a cadet comes aft and reports to the captain: “The wind is freshening, sir.” A few seconds after comes the ringing cry of the first lieutenant: “All hands ahoy to reef topsails.” In an instant all is seemingly wild excitement on board the good ship, and yet perfect order reigns, for every man knows his duty. The “executive” takes command, great coats are donned, cap peaks pulled hard down over their eyes, and the middies, acting as sailors, rush for their posts of duty. Then comes in trumpet tones the orders, issued in the commanding tones the sailors love so well to hear, and which fill their hearts with confidence in their commander: “Reef topsails! Man the topsail clew lines and buntlines--weather topsail braces! Stand by the lee braces, bowlines and halyards!”