“How’d you know I was in a fight?” demanded the seaman in a surly tone. “Your face answers that question. Who was it?” “Hickey.” “The recruit?” “Yes.” There was a quizzical look in the eyes of the master-at-arms. That a bully of Kester’s reputation should have been used up in this manner by a raw recruit was somewhat of a surprise to him. “What did he hit you with?” Bill hesitated. “What did he hit you with?” “A deck swab.” “And you nagged him to it?” “No, I didn’t. I didn’t do anything till I got it.” “Very well. Do you wish to make a charge against the man?” “Yes.” There was no further investigation that night. The master-at-arms’ report was made to the captain. But that night Sam recounted to his companion, Dan Davis, all that had occurred. Dan listened attentively, asking a question now and then. “I do not see how you could have acted differently unless you had run away, and I shouldn’t want to think you had done such a thing. I would much rather see you punished than to know you had acted the part of a coward.” “Don’t use that word,” begged Sam. “Kester did. That was what clinched the whole business. If he hadn’t done that, I might not have hit him, even though he slapped me.” A dull flush suffused the cheeks of the Battleship Boy at the memory of what had occurred, but his voice was calm and without the slightest emotion. “Do you think there will be a row about it?” he asked. “I hope not. If there is, take your medicine like a man,” advised Dan. “I will. I’m feeling better now. I guess I needed a good shaking up to jar the seasickness out of me. I haven’t that ‘went-away’ feeling now.” “I guess you must mean a ‘gone’ feeling, do you not?” smiled Dan. “Yes; I was gone, all right.” “Well, don’t worry about it. Nothing may happen as the result of your fight.” “Fight? Do you call that a fight? It wasn’t a fight. If I had been feeling right there might have been a fight. There may be yet. I have an idea I have not heard the last of Kester. If he gives me half a chance I’m going to pay him back for that cowardly blow.” “Be sure you are in the right, Sam,” cautioned Dan. “Keep your head. Defend yourself, if you have to, but see to it that you do not stir up any trouble.” Dan’s advice always was good, and Sam gave more heed to it than he appeared to. As a matter of fact, he set much store by the advice and counsel of his cool-headed friend, Dan Davis. That evening passed uneventfully and the lads enjoyed a refreshing night, with the cool breezes from the sea blowing over their swaying hammocks. On the following morning after breakfast the master-at-arms tapped Sam on the shoulder. “You will report at mast on the quarter-deck at one o’clock, sharp,” he said. “Mast?” wondered Sam. “Yes.” “What for?” “A charge has been laid against you.” “What sort of charge?” “Assaulting a shipmate and beating him.” Sam uttered a short, nervous laugh. “Is that all?”