“Dan, I have always looked upon you as a nice, sisterly sort of a chum.” “Well?” questioned Dan, with a smile. “You’re a bloodthirsty wretch, that’s what you are. Good night.” * * * * * Late that night a full gale sprang up. Word of the weather conditions was brought to the captain. “Heave up the anchors and get under way at once,” was the command. “Tell the chief engineer to get ready as soon as possible. How many boilers are fired up?” “Six, sir.” “Have the fires put under the other two at once. We must put to sea and ride the gale out there.” The captain quickly dressed and hurried up to the bridge. The spray was dashing clear over the bridge, soaking everything and everyone on it. In the meantime a boatswain’s mate was bawling out his orders through the ship, hurriedly turning out the various watches. Dan and Sam were awakened by the heavy rolling of the ship. Both sat up in their hammocks at the same instant. “What’s going on?” asked Dan as he heard men hurrying along the decks to their stations. “Maybe the ship is sinking,” suggested the cheerful Sam. “Nonsense!” “I’m going to get up, anyway.” “You have no right to do so until you are piped down. You will be called out if you are wanted.” “You mean to say that I can’t get up if I want to?” “Certainly not. You are supposed to stay in your hammock and get your rest.” “Not if the ship is sinking!” “Oh, that would be different. I guess we would all be getting out in that event.” “Huh!” muttered Sam, lying back in his swaying hammock, listening to the wind whistling through the cage masts far above them. In a short time the ship was under way, moving slowly as she headed out to sea. The storm was in no sense dangerous to the ship’s welfare, but it was safer to be out in the open until the gale should have blown itself out. When the men were piped out the next morning the Battleship Boys found it difficult to keep right side up. Dan was unaffected by the rolling and plunging, but Sam had little appetite for his breakfast. The morning work having been finished Sam was accosted by the master-at-arms. “You will act as the captain’s orderly to-day, Hickey,” he said. “Orderly?” “Yes.” Sam did not know whether to be glad or sorry. “Just before eight bells go to your quarters and put on your clean clothes. See that you are ship-shape. I don’t know why the commanding officer wants you.” “Thank you, sir. I report at eight bells?” “Yes.” “Where?” “I’ll let you know. Wherever the captain chances to be at that moment. Quite likely he will be at his breakfast. He is on the bridge at present.” “What do you think of that, Dan?” demanded Sam slowly, confiding to his companion the order that had just been given to him.