This time Sam Hickey got to his feet, wiped his face and mouth with his handkerchief, and slowly came to attention. “Next time you will be put on extra duty,” announced the officer. “I will excuse you this time, as you do not understand the regulations thoroughly. Now what has been going on here?” There was silence in the mess hall. “Something has been thrown—some one has been throwing food. I see remnants of it on the floor there,” the officer added, pointing accusingly. Sam turned, looking at the spot indicated as if in surprise. “Attention! Keep your eyes to the front. If I am not——” “It was pie,” piped a voice at the lower end of the table. “Pie?” “Yes, sir.” “Some one threw it?” “Yes, sir.” “At whom?” The lad, a very young recruit, pointed to Sam and Dan. There were traces of pie on Dan’s cheeks still. Dan had given the young recruit a warning glance, whereat the lad checked himself and volunteered no further information. “Davis, is this true?” demanded the quartermaster sternly. “Yes, sir.” “One of these men threw a piece of pie at you?” “A piece of pie hit me in the face. There were two pieces thrown.” “Both at you?” “I think not.” “At whom, then?” “One struck me in the face and the other hit my friend Sam, sir.” “You know who threw the pie?” “Yes, sir.” “Name him.” Dan was silent. “Point out the man who did it.” “Sir, I would rather not,” answered Dan, eyeing the officer steadily, but with nothing of disrespect in his gaze. “I repeat, point out the man.” “Sir, I have no wish to inform on one of my shipmates. I wish you would not press the question, sir. I wish to obey orders strictly, but I cannot be a sneak. Perhaps the pie was thrown in a spirit of fun. I am sure the man who threw it is sorry for his act now, and then there was no harm done, except that my uniform is slightly soiled.” The quartermaster turned to Sam Hickey. For a moment he eyed the freckled-faced boy steadily. Sam did not quail. He returned the quartermaster’s gaze steadily. “You were hit also?” “Yes, sir.” “With the same piece?” “No, sir; with a second piece.” “Then the first one must have been intended for you,” decided the officer shrewdly. “I think it was, sir, but it was not a good shot. I could beat that myself.” “Silence!” “Yes, sir.” “And you know who threw the pie?” “I could guess, though I didn’t see much of anything when the pie hit me. I got a mouthful, too.” “Who threw it?” Sam hesitated, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, twisting about as if seeking some means of escape from his present position. “I can’t tell you, sir,” he said in a low, determined voice. “You mean you will not?” “I mean, sir, that I would rather not. If you will excuse me I’ll take care of the fellow who struck me with the apple pie, all in good time. He won’t use my face for a target another time, after I get through with him.” The apprentices, forgetful of discipline, burst out into a roar of laughter.