A few moments before the sunset hour the different divisions marched aft to the quarter-deck, each division in charge of a midshipman or an ensign. Coming to a halt, the divisions faced midships, banked on each side of the quarter-deck. Grouped aft on the starboard side was the band. In the center stood the captain, with his executive officer, facing the Flag, and with the marines drawn up just back of the jackies. A deep silence pervaded the deck. “Attention!” The Flag slowly fluttered toward the deck, every face being turned toward the stern, every eye fixed on the Flag as it crept slowly downward. As the Flag reached the deck the band struck up “The Star-Spangled Banner.” The heart of every jackie on the quarter-deck swelled with patriotism, the strains of the national anthem bringing a deeper color to the rows of tanned, manly faces lined up in solid ranks on the quarter-deck of the battleship “Long Island.” “Attention! First division right face. Forward, march!” To the rhythmic tap of the drum the ship’s company began marching from the deck in steady lines, one division following another, until all had disappeared save a group of officers who stood chatting on the quarter-deck. The day’s work was practically done for all except those who were on watch duty. All hands repaired to the evening mess, and for an hour there was quietness on board ship. Dan asked permission to visit his companion in the brig that evening. The permission was abruptly refused. During the rest of the evening the lad was unusually silent, and as soon as hammocks were piped up, he hurried off to bed, but not to sleep, for his thoughts were with Hickey down in the brig. Had he but known, there was little cause for worry. Sam was not fretting, but was sound asleep on his hard bed. On the following morning, during the hour when the smoke lamp was lighted, Dan was pacing the forward deck. His righteous indignation over the wrong that had been done his chum was welling up within him until it momentarily threatened to overmaster him, resulting in some act that would bring punishment on himself as well. Kester had risen from where he had been lounging on deck smoking his pipe. Dan had not observed him. The lad was too fully occupied with his own thoughts to give heed to what was going on about him. All at once he became aware that some one was speaking to him. “How’s your red-headed friend this morning?” Dan glanced up quickly, to find himself face to face with Bill Kester. He eyed the bully with a steady gaze. “Don’t want to speak to me, eh?” “No. I shall be very much obliged if you will keep away from me. If you don’t, I am afraid I shall forget myself.” Kester laughed long and loud. “Forget yourself! Ho, ho, ho! That’s a joke—the funniest thing I ever heard. You think you can bluff Bill Kester, do you?” “I never bluff.” “You’d better not.”