“The commander added,--that is, if you feel well enough to come,” amended the messenger. “Ask his indulgence for a few minutes till I get my sea legs, will you?” laughed Ned. “I feel mighty queer and shaky.” At this moment Herc, who had been released from his duties on deck to see how his chum was faring, came below. With the red-headed lad’s assistance, Ned was soon ready for his visit aft. He found that the salty blast of fresh air which struck him in the face as he emerged from the crew’s quarters was as good as a tonic. The gale had blown itself out. Overhead was stretched a clean-swept, blue sky, while about them a bright sea, crested with sparkling whitecaps, raced along. Through it the _Beale_ was plunging her way south at a good rate of speed, the black smoke pouring from her funnels and encrusting her after deck with a crunching carpet of cinders. “Well, my lad, how are you feeling to-day?” asked Lieutenant Timmons, as Ned entered the cabin, cap in hand, and, after saluting, stood respectfully at attention. Ned assured his superior that he was suffering no ill consequences. Whereupon Lieutenant Timmons called forward a young officer, whom Ned had not previously noticed. “Here, Stark,” he said, “is the man you have to thank for your being here to-day.” “And I do most heartily!” exclaimed the middy, stepping forward with outstretched hand. “I don’t know how to word it, Strong, but I hope you know how I feel.” Ned nodded, rather embarrassed. “That’s all right, sir,” he said. The boy had supposed that this concluded the interview, but in this he was mistaken. Fingering some papers which lay on his desk Lieutenant Timmons went on. “I am especially glad that your officer and you have this bond between you, Strong, for this reason:--when we reach our destination,--which you may, or may not know?----” Ned nodded to show that he was aware of the objective point of the voyage. “When we reach Costaveza, I say, I have some special duty outlined, which I have already explained to Mr. Stark. He will command such men as he thinks he requires to assist him. I do not think, and he shares my opinion, that he could make a better choice than you and your companion, Hercules Taylor.” “Of course, we’ll do our best, sir,” said Ned simply, though his heart was beating high at the distinction which his commander was conferring on the Dreadnought Boys. “I know you will, Strong,” said his superior crisply, “and that is why I selected you for the duty. There is no need to explain it in its details, which will largely be governed by the conditions we may find existing in the republic. Of course, from reading the papers, you are familiar with the fact that there is a revolution there, which is antagonistic in the extreme to American interests.”