They saw a slight, pale-faced woman pointing indignantly to a tall youth who was slinking away through the crowd, trying evidently to conceal himself from the woman's scorn. "What is the matter, madam?" somebody asked the excited woman. "Why, I was in the first rush for the stairway," explained the woman, "before those brave young men there----" It was the boys' turn to try to slink away. "Before those brave young men there kept back the cowardly fellows who were trying to trample past us. That man yonder, who has just slunk away, dealt me this blow in the face," she pointed to a livid weal on her cheek, "and knocked me down." A roar of indignation went up as she related the craven conduct of the youth the boys had observed slink off. Some of the more excitable passengers shouted that they wanted to organize a party to find him and deal him out summary punishment. Cooler counsel prevailed, however, and the rest of the night was passed in as comfortable a manner as was possible on the overcrowded ship. When the _Kentucky_ arrived at her dock on the East River, below the Brooklyn Bridge, she was met by big crowds, among whom were many reporters, the wireless stations along the Sound having been notified by the _Kentucky_ of the disaster that had overtaken the _Rhode Island_. The boys, laughingly turning aside the assiduous young men of the press, were making their way ashore, when Herc suddenly caught hold of Ned's arm. "Look there!" he exclaimed. Ned looked, and saw Hank Harkins standing in the midst of a throng of reporters, to whom he was evidently giving a "big story." "I took the woman in my arms," the boys heard him say, as they paused, "and made my way to the upper deck with her." "You saved her?" asked a young reporter, holding a long pencil poised above a very large new notebook. "Yes, I saved her, and then----" Hank was continuing, when his jaw suddenly dropped, and he shook as if he was about to have a fit. Then, without another word to the amazed reporters, he shouldered his way through their ranks and dashed off down the gangplank in the direction of the land. "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Herc. "I'll remember Hank's look when he met our eyes as long as I live. He looked like a dying duck in a thunderstorm!" "I guess we headed off his thrilling narrative, all right," commented Ned, echoing Herc's merriment. "And for a good reason, too," went on Herc. "I recognized Hank as he slunk away from that woman last night. He was the coward who struck her and disgraced his uniform." "I'm glad his overcoat covered it," rejoined Ned. At this juncture one of the reporters, who had noticed that both the lads wore Uncle Sam's uniforms, hurried up to them. "Can you tell us what was the matter with that fellow?" he demanded. "He was just in the middle of giving us a good story, when he suddenly hurried off as if he had been shot. Is he a reliable chap, do you know?"