"Lively, now, men! Let go! Fend off!" shouted Dobson, whose station was in that boat at the "man overboard" signal. "Oars! Let fall! Give way!" And off went the boat, plunging and foaming over the waves in the direction of the life-preserver, which was now a quarter of a mile astern. "Very well done, Mr. Staples," said Rexdale approvingly. "But why," he added in a lower tone, "did you have the drill at this hour, instead of at four bells, as I ordered?" "Drill? This is no drill, sir!" "No drill?" "There _is_ a man overboard, sir. One of the Japanese waiters fell over the rail somehow. I gave no orders for the drill, but that bugler is a quick fellow and knows his business. The men like the little Jap, and it put a heart into their work." When Oshima struck the water his early training (which will be referred to before long) stood him in good stead. He rose to the surface and gave a few quick strokes to ensure safety from the propeller; then he turned on his back and tried to float. There was too much ripple on the water for this, and he was obliged to turn back upon his chest and maintain his position with as little exertion as possible, not struggling to reach the ship, which was drawing rapidly away. He had seen the "man overboard" drill many times, and was on the lookout for the life-preserver, which was thrown just as he turned for the second time. His clothes dragged downward heavily, but in three minutes he reached the buoy and clung to it, knowing that by this time the men were in the boat and casting off. It was perhaps ten minutes from the moment of his falling into the sea when the white boat drew up alongside and pulled both him and the life-preserver out of the water. Five minutes later--the ship having reversed her screw again, and backed toward the boat--he was scrambling over on to the deck and making for the little cabin he shared with Oto. On the ship's log it was simply recorded that the boy had "fallen overboard." Oshima was sharply questioned by the officers, but he could not be induced to tell how the accident happened. Sam knew there were no talebearers among his mates and felt safe. He made a surly apology to the little chap, saying he was mad at having been thrown, and that he had not meant to drown him. Oshima thereupon bowed in a dignified way and went about his work, serving the commander in his cabin that night as usual. Passing the Handkerchief Lightship, the _Osprey_ dropped anchor with the lights of Nantucket twinkling far on her beam to the south and west. The next morning preparations were made for target-practice.