There was a studied affront in the man’s manner that angered Ethan; but he replied, still quietly: “My business is with the commander of this ship in person, if you please.” “You will state your business to me, or you go over the side,” rapped out the harsh faced lieutenant. “I will do neither one nor the other. I am here upon a special errand of much importance, and if Captain Jones is in the ship I demand to see him.” The lieutenant burst into a tirade of abuse, which made Longsword stiffen and glare menacingly with his hand upon his hilt. But just then there came a light, brisk step upon the deck and a calm voice asked, “Mr. Simpson, what is all this ado about?” The first officer of the Ranger colored a trifle, and turning, said: “This boy was impudent.” “Ah! In what way?” “He--he asked to see you.” A low laugh of amusement greeted this statement. “Well, I must say that I see no great impudence in that.” The speaker turned to Ethan, and continued: “Do you wish to speak to me?” “Are you Captain John Paul Jones?” asked the lad. “I am.” Ethan stared in surprise. The fame of this new and brilliant sea chief was so great that he had, somehow, expected to see a huge and formidable man with fierce, weather-beaten features and the bearing of a buccaneer. But instead he found before him a rather small, slightly-built young man with a brisk air, a pair of the keenest dark eyes in the world, and a pleasant, resolute face. “I beg your pardon,” stammered the lad, after he had recovered from his surprise and realized that he had been staring. He drew out a paper which the president of Congress had given him, and handed it to the young commander of the Ranger. The latter broke the seal, and as he unfolded the sheet of stiff paper Ethan had a glimpse of the beautifully regular handwriting of Mr. Hancock. A glance was sufficient to show John Paul Jones the purport of the missive. He glanced at Ethan in some surprise and then said: “Will you kindly come down to my cabin?” Ethan descended after him, and when once they were within the cabin and the door closed, the commander of the Ranger continued: “I was expecting the packet which you bring, but hardly expected so youthful a messenger.” Ethan smiled. John Paul Jones was a gentleman who possessed the knack of manner that causes strangers to feel at their ease; and the boy replied: “And I hardly expected to find the captain of this ship so young a man.” “Age on the sea,” said John Paul Jones, humorously, “comes with experience and not with years.” He regarded Ethan closely for a moment, and proceeded shrewdly, “And for all your youth, you are not a stranger to blue water, I take it.” “I made my first voyage at five,” answered Ethan, “and witnessed my first sea fight through an empty port-hole. At ten I swarmed up to the royal yards of my father’s ship with a musket as tall as myself and helped to beat off an Algerian corsair just off the African coast.”