Sam landed on his head and shoulders, skated along the slippery floor, headed for the captain’s breakfast table. He hit the mark squarely. That is, he slid right underneath the table, at the same time turning over on his back in an effort to stop his rapid flight. Sam threw up his feet. The move was fatal. The captain’s table was lifted right up into the air. A crashing of dishes followed as the table turned turtle. A shower of broken glassware rained down over the head of the Battleship Boy followed quickly by the table itself. Sam lay buried beneath the wreckage. He did not move, not because he could not, but because he dared not. He feared any movement on his part would mean the end of the world so far as he was concerned. CHAPTER XIX—THE WORK OF AN ENEMY “Get up, lad!” commanded the captain, himself removing the table from his unfortunate orderly. Sam got himself out from the wreckage, and slowly rose to his feet, ruefully surveying the scene before him. He did not speak. There were no words that would probably express his feelings at that moment. The captain pressed a button, whereupon his colored steward hurried in. The steward’s eyes opened as he caught sight of the ruined china and glassware. “Steward, clear this rubbish away and be quick about it,” the captain directed in a calm voice. “Is this the way you usually respond to an officer’s summons?” fixing his eyes upon the culprit. There was a quiver about the lips of the commanding officer of the battleship “Long Island,” but Sam was too much upset to observe it. “N—n—no, sir.” “I approve of your prompt attention to duty, lad, but you will have to learn to control yourself.” “I—I am very sorry, sir.” “Never mind, lad; you will learn. This is the first time you ever acted as orderly, is it not?” “Yes, sir.” “Then I will instruct you in your duties, for you no doubt will be called upon to perform this duty many times during your service.” The captain’s kindly tone went straight to the heart of the Battleship Boy. “In the first place, when you come to the door bearing a message for me you should halt outside and rap, saying, ‘orderly, sir’; then wait for the summons to enter. When I call you to give you some directions, you need not rap. Say nothing, but enter and come to attention. Do you understand!” “Yes, sir.” “I am sure you will do better next time. You will now go to the officer of the deck, and say that I wish to see Mr. Coates, the executive officer, at his early convenience.” “Aye, aye, sir,” answered Sam, backing away. He bethought himself of the door sill just in time to prevent another tumble, this time out into the corridor. Sam delivered his message and returned to his station, where he pondered deeply over what had befallen him. “I hope the boys don’t hear about that,” he muttered. “They’d make this ship so warm for me that I should have to jump overboard. I—I couldn’t stand it; that’s all.”