“Red ink,” nodded Sam. “I’ll bet the eagle will scream now.” “Who could have done it?” “The question is not who could have done it, but who did do it.” “We shall be held responsible, in any event. I see ourselves losing our ratings and perhaps missing our detail to a ship. Come, let’s get into some decent clothes before one of the officers gets here.” They quickly changed their uniforms, laying out the ruined ones, backs upward ready for the inspection that they felt sure would soon follow. In this surmise they were right. The drill over, the quartermaster, accompanied by the executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Devall, appeared at the boys’ quarters. Dan and Sam came to attention as the officers entered. The latter fixed their eyes upon the garments laid out on the floor of the quarters. Lieutenant Commander Devall picked up one of the jackets, examining it closely. “How did this happen?” he demanded, eyeing Sam sternly. “I do not know, sir.” “The garment has plainly been inked. How does it happen that you did not notice this when you put on your uniform?” “We dressed in a great hurry, sir,” spoke up Dan. “As you will observe, it is quite dark in here. It seems as if we ought to have noticed that something was wrong, but we did not.” Lieutenant Commander Devall pondered for a moment. “You have no idea who could have done this thing, men?” They did not answer. “Search the quarters, quartermaster.” The lads stood looking on with troubled faces as the petty officer began his search. The Battleship Boys did not know what the lieutenant commander expected to find, and as a matter of fact he probably had no definite idea himself. Sam moved over to where his bag stood, having observed that it was open. As he drew the cord down tightly he chanced to glance at the bag standing beside it. Hickey uttered a smothered exclamation. What he had seen was a smear of red at the mouth of the canvas bag. “May I open this bag, sir?” he asked, saluting. “For what?” Sam pointed to the streak of red. “Open it!” One by one the lad drew out the neatly folded garments from the sea bag, the officers scrutinizing these keenly as they were withdrawn and placed on the floor. At the very bottom of the bag Sam came upon an object which he quickly drew out, holding it to the light, with a triumphant grin on his face. He nodded to Dan as he did so. The object was a towel. It was streaked with red, as if some one had wiped his hands upon it. In fact, finger marks were plainly visible all over it. The executive officer snatched the cloth from the boy’s hands. “Whose bag is this?” he demanded sharply. “I’ll look up the number, sir,” answered the quartermaster. At that moment a figure darkened the doorway. It was Flink. The instant he saw the officers in the quarters his hand mechanically came up in salute.