Dave Darrin at Vera Cruz: Fighting with the U.S. Navy in Mexico

"Do you care to go out this evening, Danny boy?" asked Dave Darrin, stepping into his chum's room.

"I'm too excited and too tired," confessed Ensign Dalzell. "The first thing I want is a hot bath, the second, pajamas, and the third, a long sleep."

"Too bad," sighed Dave. "I wanted an hour's stroll along Broadway."

"Don't let my indolence keep you in," urged Dalzell. "If you're going out, then I can have the first hot bath, and be as long about it as I please. Then I'll get into pajamas and ready for bed. By that time you'll be in and we can say `good night' to each other."

"I feel a bit mean about quitting you," Dave murmured.

"And I feel a whole lot meaner not to go out with you," Dan promptly assured his chum. "So let's compromise; you go out and I'll stay in."

"That sounds like a very odd compromise," laughed Darrin. "On the whole, Dan, I believe I won't go out."

"If that's the way you feel," argued Dalzell, "then I'm going to change my mind and go out with you. I won't be the means of keeping you from your stroll."

"But you really don't want to go out," Dave objected.

"Candidly, I don't care much about going out; I want that bath and I'm tired. Yet in the good old cause of friendship--"

"Friendship doesn't enter in, here," Dave interposed. "Danny boy, you stay here in the hotel and have your bath, I'll go out and pay my very slight respects to Broadway. Doubtless, by the time you're in pajamas, I'll be back, and with all my longing for wandering satisfied."

"Then, if you really don't mind--"

"Not at all, old chap! So long! Back in a little while."

Through the bathroom that connected their two rooms at the Allsordia

Hotel, Dave Darrin stepped into his own apartment.

Having donned coat and top-coat, Darrin picked up his new derby hat and stepped to his room door. In another half minute he was going down on the elevator. Then he stepped into the street.

Dave Darrin was young, healthy, happy, reasonably good-looking. His top-coat and gray suit were well tailored. Yet, save for his erect, military carriage, there was nothing to distinguish him from the thousands of average well-dressed young men who thronged Broadway after dark on this evening in late March.

For perhaps fifteen blocks he strolled uptown. All that he saw on that gaily lighted main thoroughfare of New York was interesting. It was the same old evening crowd, on pleasure bent.

Then, crossing over to the east side of Broadway, Dave sauntered slowly back.

Laughing girls eyed the young naval officer as he passed. Drivers of taxicabs looked the young man over speculatively, as though wondering whether he might be inveigled into going on a, to them, profitable round of New York's night sights. Human harpies, in the form of "confidence men"--swindlers on the lookout for prey--glanced but once at the young naval ensign, then looked away. Dave Darrin's erect carriage, his clear steady eyes, his broad shoulders and evident physical mastery of himself made these swindlers hesitate at the thought of tackling him.

Through the occasionally opened doors of the restaurants came the sounds of music and laughter, but Dave felt no desire to enter.

He was several blocks on his homeward way, and was passing the corner of a side street quieter than the others, when he heard a woman's stifled cry of alarm.

Halting, bringing his heels together with a click, and throwing his shoulders back, Darrin stopped on the corner and looked down the street.

Five or six doors away, close to a building, stood a young woman of not more than twenty-two. Though she was strikingly pretty, Dave did not note that fact in the first glance. He saw, however, that she was well dressed in the latest spring garments, and that her pose was one of retreat from the man who stood before her.

That the man had the external appearance of the gentleman was the \ first fact Darrin observed.

Then he heard the young woman's indignant utterance:

"You coward!"

"That is a taunt not often thrown at me," the young man laughed, carelessly.

"Only a coward would attempt to win a woman's love by threats," replied the girl, more calmly, though bitterness rang in her tone. "As for you, I wish to assure you that I am quite through with you!"

"Oh, no, you're not!" rejoined the annoyer, with the air of one who knows himself to be victor. "In fact, you will do very much as I wish, or your brother--"

"You coward!" spoke the girl, scornfully again.

"If your brother suffers, your pride will be in the dust," insisted the annoyer, "and, remember, I, alone, can save your brother from disgrace."

"I am not even going to ask you to do it," retorted the young woman. "And now our interview is over. I am going to leave you, and I shall not see you again. I---"

"Going to leave me, are you?" leered her tormentor. He stepped forward, holding out his hand, as though to seize the young woman's wrist, but she alertly eluded him.

"If you try again to touch me, or if you attempt to follow me," warned the young woman, "I shall appeal for assistance."

So absorbed were the disputants in their quarrel that neither had noticed Darrin, standing on the corner.

The tormentor's face flushed, then went white, "Make your appeal," he dared, "and see what happens!"

Again he attempted to take the girl by the wrist.

"Can I be of service, madam?" inquired Darrin, as he strode toward them.

Like a flash, the annoyer wheeled upon Darrin, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Young man," he warned, threateningly, "the best thing you can possibly do will be to make yourself scarce as quickly as possible. As for this young woman---"

The tormentor moved a step nearer to the young woman, whose face had turned very pale.

Dave slipped quietly between them.

"As this young woman does not wish to talk with you," Darrin suggested, "you may address all your remarks to me."

While the two young men stood eyeing each other Darrin noted that the young woman's annoyer was somewhat taller than himself, broader of shoulder and deeper of chest. He had the same confidence of athletic poise that Dave himself displayed. In a resort to force, it looked as though the stranger would have the better of it.

Yet this stranger seemed suddenly deprived of much of his assurance. Plainly, there was some good reason why he did not wish to fight on this side street so close to Broadway.

"Madam," inquired Darrin, half turning, "may I have the pleasure of escorting you to your friends?"

"If you will call a taxi---" she began, eagerly.

At that moment a fareless taxicab turned the corner of Broadway and came slowly down the street.

"Hold on, chauffeur!" cried Darrin, in a voice of command. Then, as the cab stopped at the curb, Dave turned his back upon the tormentor for a moment, while he assisted the young woman into the taxicab.

"Do you feel satisfied to go without escort," asked Darrin, "or may I offer my services in seeing you safely to your home?"

"I shall be all right now," replied the young woman, the troubled look in her lustrous brown eyes vanishing as she favored her unknown defender with a smile. "If the driver will stop, two blocks from here, I will direct him where to take me."

"Step aside, boy!" ordered the unknown man, as he tried to brush

Dave away and enter the cab.

It was no time for gentle measures. Ensign Darrin's right fist landed heavily on the face of the stranger, sending him prone to the sidewalk.

At a wave of Dave's hand the chauffeur started away. Scenting trouble, the chauffeur drove as fast as he could down the side street, making the round of the block, then heading into Broadway and going uptown, for the young woman had called out her destination.

As for the stranger whom Dave had knocked down, the fellow was on his feet like a flash. Ignoring Darrin, he tried to dash down the side street after the taxicab.

"Step back!" ordered Dave, catching hold of the fellow, and swinging him around. "You're not going to follow."

"I must have the number of that taxicab," cried the stranger, desperately.

"Too late," smiled Dave, as he saw the taxicab turn the next corner. "You won't learn the number. I happened to see it, though," he added incautiously.

"Give it to me, then," commanded the other. "I'll overlook what you've done if you truthfully give me the number of that taxicab. Find that girl I must, and as early as possible. Though I know her well, and her family, too, I do not know where to look for them in New York."

Dave, without a word, turned as though to walk toward Broadway.

"Give me that taxi's number," insisted the stranger.

"I won't," Dave returned, flatly.

"Give me that number, or---"

"Or what?" drawled Darrin halting and glancing contemptuously at the furious face before him.

"Or I'll pound the number out of you!" came the ugly challenge.

"Go ahead," Dave invited, coolly. "I don't mind a fight in the least, though perhaps you would, for I see a policeman coming up the street. He would be bound to arrest both of us. Perhaps you have better reasons than I have for not courting the activities of the police."

It was plain that a fearful, even though brief struggle, took place in the stranger's mind before he made reply to Dave's taunt.

"I'll find you again, and the next time you shall not get off so easily," muttered the other. "Depend upon it, I shall see you again!"

With that the stranger walked toward Broadway. Smiling, Dave strolled more slowly after him. By the time the naval ensign reached the corner of that great artery of human life, the stranger had lost himself in the crowds of people that thronged Broadway.

"If I see him again within twenty-four hours, I think I shall know him," laughed Darrin. "My first blow put a red welt on his cheek for purposes of identification."

Then Darrin finished his walk, turning in at the Allsordia.

Dan Dalzell had also finished his bath, and lounging comfortably in his pajamas, was reading a late edition of the evening newspaper. "Have any fun?" asked Ensign Dalzell, glancing up.

"Just a little bit of a frolic," smiled Darrin, and told his chum what had happened.

"I'm glad you punched the scoundrel," flared Danny Grin.

"I couldn't do anything else," Dave answered soberly, "and if it weren't for the shame of treating a woman in such high-handed fashion as that fellow did, I'd look upon the whole affair as a pleasant diversion."

"So he's going to look for you and find you, then settle up this night's business with you, is he?" demanded Dalzell, with one of the grins that had made him famous. "Humph! If he finds you after ten o`clock to-morrow morning, it will be aboard one of our biggest battleships and among fifteen hundred fighting men."

"I'm afraid I shall never see him again," sighed Dave. "It's too bad, too, for I'm not satisfied with the one blow that I had the pleasure of giving him. I'd like to meet the fellow in a place where I could express and fully back up my opinion of him."

"I wonder if you'll ever meet him again?" mused Dalzell, aloud.

"It's not worth wondering about," Dave returned. "I must get into my bath now. I'll be out soon."

Fifteen minutes later Darrin looked into the room, saying good night to his chum. Then he retired to his own sleeping room; five minutes later he was sound asleep.

No strangers to our readers are Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell "Darry" and "Danny Grin," as they were known to many of their friends. As members of that famous schoolboy group known as Dick & Co. they were first encountered in the pages of the "Grammar School Boys Series." All our readers are familiar with the careers in sport and adventure that were achieved by those splendid Gridley boys, Dick Prescott, Dave Darrin, Greg Holmes, Dan Dalzell, Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton. The same boys, a little older and twice as daring, were again found in the pages of the "High School Boys Series," and then immediately afterward in the "High School Boys' Vacation Series."

It was in the "Dick Prescott Christmas Series" that we found all six of our fine, manly young friends in the full flower of high school boyhood. A few months after that the six were separated. The further fortunes of Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes are then found in the "West Point Series," while the careers of Darrin and Dalzell are set forth in the "Annapolis Series," just as the adventures of Reade and Hazelton are set forth in the "Young Engineers Series."

At Annapolis, Darrin and Dalzell went through stirring times, indeed, as young midshipmen. Now, we again come upon them when they have become commissioned officers in the Navy. They are now seen at the outset of their careers as ensigns, ordered to duty aboard the dreadnought "Long Island" in the latter part of March, 1914.

Certainly the times were favorable for them to see much of active naval service, though as yet they could hardly more than guess the fact.

General Huerta, who had usurped the presidency of Mexico following the death--as suspected, by assassination--of the former president Madero--had not been recognized as president by the United States. Some of Madero's friends and former followers, styling themselves the "Constitutionalists" had taken to the field in rebellion against the proclaimed authority of the dictator, Huerta. The two factions had long fought fiercely, and between the two warring parties that had rapidly reduced life in Mexico, to a state of anarchy, scores of Americans had been executed through spite, as it was alleged, and American women and children had also suffered at the hands of both factions.

Lives and property of citizens of European governments had been sacrificed, and now these European governments looked askance at the Washington government, which was expected to safeguard the rights of foreigners in Mexico.

To the disappointment and even the resentment of a large part of the people of the United States, the Washington government had moved slowly, expressing its hope that right would triumph in Mexico without outside armed interference.

This policy of the national administration had become known as watchful waiting. Many approved of it; other Americans demanded a policy of active intervention in Mexico to end the uncertainty and the misery caused by the helpless of many nations, who were ground between the opposing factions of revolution in Mexico.

With this brief explanation we will once more turn to the fortunes of Ensigns Dave and Dan.

At 6.45 the next morning the telephone bell began to tinkle in Dave's room. It continued to ring until Darrin rose, took down the receiver, and expressed, to the clerk, on duty below, his thanks for having been called.

"Turn out, Danny Grin!" Darry shouted from the bathroom. "Come, now, sir! Show a foot! Show a foot, sir!"

Drowsily, Dalzell thrust one bare foot out from under the sheet.

"Are you awake in sea-going order, sir?" Dave asked, jovially.

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Then remain awake, Mr. Dalzell, until I have been through the motions of a cold bath."

With that Darrin shut the door. From the bathroom came the sounds of a shower, followed by much splashing.

"Turn out the port watch, Mr. Dalzell," came, presently, through the closed bathroom door. "The bathroom watch is yours. Hose down, sir."

With that Dave stepped into his own room to dress. It was not long before the two young naval officers left their rooms, each carrying a suit case. To the top of each case was strapped a sword, emblem of officer's rank, and encased in chamois-skin.

Going below, the pair breakfasted, glancing, in the meantime, over morning newspapers.

Just before nine-thirty that same morning, our young naval officers, bent on joining their ship, stepped along briskly through the Brooklyn Navy Yard.

It was really an inspiring place. Sailors, marines and officers, too, were in evidence.

In the machine shops and about the docks thousands of men were performing what once would have passed for the work of giants. Huge pieces of steel were being shaped; heavy drays carried these pieces of steel; monster cranes hoisted them aboard ships lying at the docks or standing shored up in the dry docks. There was noise in the air; the spirit of work and accomplishment pervaded the place, for word had come from Washington that many ships might soon be needed in Mexican waters.

Eight dreadnoughts lay at their berths. Even as the boys crossed the great yard a cruiser was being warped in, after an eighteen-thousand mile voyage.

Alongside floating stages in the basins lay submarines and torpedo boat destroyers. A naval collier was being coaled. A Navy launch was in sight and coming closer, bearing a draft of marines bound for duty on one of the battleships.

Every sight spoke proudly of the naval might of a great nation, yet that might was not at all in proportion with the naval needs of such a vast country.

"It does an American good, just to be in a place like this, doesn't it?" asked Danny Grin.

"It does, indeed," Dave answered. Then, his bewilderment increasing, he turned to a marine who stood at a distance of some sixty feet from where he had halted.

"My man!" Dave called.

Instantly the marine wheeled about. Noting the suit cases, with the swords strapped to them, the marine recognized these young men in civilian attire as naval officers. Promptly his hand sought his cap visor in clean-cut salute, which both young ensigns as promptly returned.

"Be good enough to direct me to the `Long Island,'" Darrin requested.

"Yes, sir," and the marine, stepping closer, led the way past three large buildings.

"There she is, over there, sir," said the marine, a minute later, pointing. "Shall I carry your suit cases, sir, to the deck?"

"It won't be necessary, thank you," Darrin replied.

"Very good, sir," and again the marine saluted. Returning the salute, the two young officers hurried forward. As they strode along, their eyes feasting on the strong, proud lines of the dreadnought on which they were to serve, their staunch young hearts swelled with pride. And there, over the battleship's stern, floated the Flag, which they had taken most solemn oath to defend with their lives and with their honor, whether at home, or on the other side of the world.

In both breasts stirred the same emotions of love of country. Just then neither felt like speaking. They hastened on in silence. Up the gang-plank they strode. At a word from the officer on deck, two young sailors, serving as messengers, darted down the plank, saluting, then relieving the young officers of their suit cases.

Up the gang-plank, and aboard, walked the young ensigns. First the eyes of Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell sought the Flag. Bringing their heels together, standing erect, they faced the Stars and Stripes, flying at the stern, bringing their hands up smartly in salute. The officer of the deck returned to the youngsters the salute on behalf of the Flag.

Then Darrin and Dalzell approached the officer of the deck.

"I am Ensign Darrin, and I report having come aboard, sir," said

Dave. Dan reported his own arrival in similar terms.

"My name is Trent," replied the officer of the deck, as he extended his right hand to each, in turn. "I hope you will like all of us; I know we shall like you."

Then to the messengers Lieutenant Trent gave the order to carry the suit cases to the rooms assigned to the two new ensigns. Dave and Dan followed the messengers through a corridor that led past the ward-room. The messengers halted before the curtained doorways of adjoining rooms, bags in left hands, their right hands up in salute.

"This is your room, sir," announced the messenger, in the precise tones of the service, while Dan's messenger indicated the other room.

"Some kind fate must have given us adjoining rooms," laughed Dave, when he realized that the two doors stood side by side.

As Darrin passed into his new quarters his first glance rested lovingly on the breech of a huge gun that pierced the armored side of the dreadnought.

"That's great!" thought the young ensign, jubilantly. "I shall have an emblem and a constant reminder of my duty to the United States!"

His second glance took in the polished top of a desk, over which hung an electric light.

There is no door to an officer's room; instead, a curtain hangs in place, screening the room from outside view. At one side, in the cabin, was another curtain, this screening the alcove in which lay the berth.

But Darrin did not stop to study his new quarters just then. There was a duty first to be performed. Opening his suit case, he took out the trousers and blouse of the blue undress uniform. Into this he changed as rapidly as he could, after which he brushed his hair before the little mirror, then put on his cap.

Next he fastened on his sword belt, after which he hung his sword at his side. An anxious head-to-foot glance followed, and Ensign Darrin found himself spick and span.

Now he stepped to Dan's door, calling in:

"May I come in, old fellow?"

"I'll be in a strange state of mind if you don't," Danny Grin answered.

Ensign Dalzell was putting the finishing touches to his own rapid toilet.

"I'm going to help myself to your card case," announced Dave, who already held a card of his own. Adding Dan's to that, Ensign Darrin stepped to the doorway, glancing quickly about him.

"Sentry!" Dave called.

"Sir!" answered a marine, stepping forward and giving the customary salute.

"Pass the word for a messenger, sentry!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

In a twinkling the messenger arrived, saluting.

"Take these cards to the captain, with the respectful compliments of Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell, and state that they await his permission to report to him."

"Aye, aye, sir."

In less than a minute the messenger returned, stating that the captain would receive them at once.

Captain Gales, a heavily-built, stately-looking man of fifty, rose from his desk in his office as the two young ensigns stepped through the door. The young men saluted their commander, then stood rigidly at attention.

"Mr. Darrin?" asked the captain, extending his hand, which Dave promptly clasped. Then Dan was greeted.

"Glad to have you with us," was all the captain said. Then, to the marine orderly who stood just within the door: "Show these gentlemen to the executive officer."

"He didn't ask after our folks, nor even if we liked the looks of the ship," Dalzell complained, in a whisper, as they followed the orderly.

"Be silent, Danny Grin!" urged Darrin, rebukingly. "This is no time for jesting."

Commander Bainbridge, the executive officer, received the young officers in his quarters. He proved to be more communicative, talking pleasantly with them for fully a minute and a half after the young men had introduced themselves, and had turned over to him the official papers connecting them with this dreadnought's personnel.

"Let me see, Mr. Dalzell," said Lieutenant Commander Bainbridge, referring to a record book on his desk, "you will be in Lieutenant Trent's division. Find Mr. Trent on the quarter deck and report to him. Mr. Darrin, you are assigned to Lieutenant Cantor's division. I will have an orderly show you to Mr. Cantor."

Dan departed first, walking very erect and feeling unusually elated, for Dalzell had thoroughly liked the appearance of Trent in their brief meeting, and believed that he would be wholly contented in serving under that superior.

While Dave's quarters were on the port side of the ship, Cantor's proved to be on the right side.

The messenger halted before a curtained doorway, rapping.

"Who's there?" called a voice inside.

"Messenger, sir, showing Ensign Darrin to Lieutenant Cantor, sir."

"Then you may go, messenger. Darrin, wait just an instant won't you, until I finish my toilet."

"Very good, sir."

A moment later the hail came from within.

"Right inside, Darrin!"

Dave entered, to find a somewhat older officer standing with extended hand. But Ensign Darrin could not believe his eyes when he found himself faced by the man who had annoyed the young woman on the night before--and that annoyer standing there erect and handsome in the uniform of a Navy lieutenant!

Their hands met, but in light clasp, without pretense of warmth.

Then Darrin fell back, bringing his right hand mechanically to a salute as he mumbled:

"I am Ensign Darrin, sir, and have been ordered, by the executive officer, to report to you for duty in your division."

"Very good, Mr. Darrin," rejoined the lieutenant. "My division goes on watch at eight bells noon. You will report to me on the quarter deck at that time."

"Very good, sir."

With a quick step Lieutenant Cantor reached the curtain, holding it slightly aside and peering out into the passage-way. His face was red, but there was one portion that was redder still.

"I see," Dave reflected, "that Cantor still wears the welt that I printed on his cheek last night. But it staggers me," he thought, gravely, "to find such a fellow holding an officer's commission in the Navy."

Satisfied that there were no eavesdroppers near, Lieutenant Cantor stepped back, facing the young ensign, whom he looked over with an expression of mingled hate and distress.

"I believe we have met before," said Cantor, with a quick, hissing indrawing of his breath.

"To my very great regret, we have, sir," Darrin answered, coldly.

"Last night!"

"Yes, sir."

"And you behaved abominably, Darrin!"

"Indeed, sir?"

"You interfered," Lieutenant Cantor continued, "with one of the most important affairs of my life."

"Yes, sir? With one of the most shameful, I should imagine, sir."

Ensign Darrin's tone was officially respectful, but his glance cold. He felt no respect for Cantor, and could see no reason why he should pretend respect.

"I had a strong belief that I should see you again," Cantor continued, his gleaming eyes turned on the new ensign.

"You knew me to be of the Navy, sir?"

"I did not, Darrin, nor did you know me to be of the Navy. Otherwise, it is not likely that you would have behaved as you did."

"If I had known you to be the fleet admiral, Mr. Cantor, my conduct could not have been different, under the circumstances."

"Darrin, you are a fool!" hissed the division officer.

"I am much obliged to you, sir, for your good opinion," Dave answered, in an even voice.

For an instant the lieutenant frowned deeply. Then his face cleared.

His glance became almost friendly as he continued:

"Darrin, I think it probable that you will have a chance to repair your bad work of last night."

"Sir?"

"Last night you told me that you had noted the number of the taxicab in which the young woman escaped me."

"I did, sir."

"Perhaps you still remember that number. Indeed, I am sure that you must."

"I do remember the number, sir."

"What was it?" asked Cantor, eagerly.

"That number, sir, so far as I am concerned," Ensign Darrin answered, tranquilly, "is a woman's secret."

"It is a secret which I have a right to know," Lieutenant Cantor went on pressingly.

"The number, sir, I would not dream of giving you without the permission of the young woman herself," Darrin answered, slowly. "As I do not even know her name, it is unlikely that I shall be able to secure that permission."

"Darrin, it is my right to receive an answer to my question," insisted Cantor, his eyes glittering coldly.

"You will have to find out from some one other than myself, then," was Dave's calm answer.

"Darrin, you force me to tell you more than I really ought to tell. I am going to marry that young woman!"

"Is the young woman aware of your intentions, sir?" Dave demanded, quietly.

"Yes! Darrin, I tell you, I am going to marry that young woman, and it is most imperative that I should see her as early as possible. Give me the number of that taxicab, and I can find the driver and learn where he took her. Now, what are you smiling at, Darrin?"

"It struck me, sir, that you should already know the address of a young woman whom you are engaged to marry."

Lieutenant Cantor repressed an exclamation of impatience and bit his lips.

"Of course I know her home address," he deigned to reply, "but she is not a New Yorker. Her home is at a considerable distance, and I do not know where to find her in New York. Give me that taxicab number and I shall be able to secure shore leave. By this evening I shall have found her."

"You do not expect me to wish you luck in a matter like this, sir?" Ensign Darrin inquired.

"I expect you to give me the number of that taxicab, and at once," replied Cantor. He did not raise his voice, but there was compelling fury in his tone.

"I have already declined to do that, sir," Dave insisted.

"Darrin, do you realize that I am your superior?" demanded the lieutenant.

"I am aware, sir, that you are my superior officer," Darrin answered, with strong emphasis on the word "officer."

"And you refuse to please me in a trifling matter?"

"Pardon me, sir, but from the little that I saw and heard, I cannot believe that your discovery of her address would be regarded by the young woman as a trifling matter."

"Do you persist in refusing to tell me that taxicab number?" hissed

Lieutenant Cantor.

"Sir, as a gentleman, I must," Dave rejoined. For a full half minute Lieutenant Cantor stared at his subordinate in speechless anger. Then, when he could command his voice somewhat, he resumed:

"Oh, very good, you--you young--puppy!"

Another brief interval of silence, and the lieutenant continued, in a crisp, official tone:

"Mr. Darrin, go to the division bulletin board and get an accurate copy of the roster of the division. Also make a copy of our station bills. You will then report to me on the quarter deck just before eight bells, noon."

"Aye, aye, sir! Any further orders?"

"None!"

Cantor stood there, an appealing look in his eyes, but Dave, saluting, turned on his heel and went out.

"So that is the fellow who is to teach me the duties and the ideals of the service," Dave Darrin reflected, disgustedly, as he stepped briskly around to port. "A magnificent prospect ahead of me, if I must depend upon the instructions and the official favor of a bully and a scoundrel like Cantor! And he can make it hot for me, too, if he has a mind to do so! Don't I know how easy that ought to be for him? I shall have, indeed, a lot of pleasure in my service on this ship, with Cantor for my division officer!"

Mindful of orders, Darrin's first act was to copy the division roster and the station bills. These he took to his room, placing them in a drawer of the desk, for future study. For the present, he wanted to get out into the open air.

Though Ensign Dalzell had been directed to report on the quarter deck, he was not now there. Dave walked about by himself until Lieutenant Trent came over and spoke to him.

"Dalzell is busy, I suppose, sir?" Dave inquired.

"Forward and below, directing the stowage of stores," replied

Trent. "Have you been detailed to a division yet, Mr. Darrin?"

"Yes, sir; to Lieutenant Cantor's division."

"Ah, so?" inquired Trent. He did not say more, from which Dave wondered if Trent did not like Cantor. If such were the case, then Darrin's opinion of Lieutenant Trent would run all the higher.

"Cantor is a very efficient officer," Trent said, after a pause, not long enough to be construed unfavorably.

Dave did not answer this, for he could think of nothing to say.

"Some of our newest youngsters haven't wholly liked him," Trout went on, with a smile. "I fancy that perhaps he works them a bit too grillingly."

"After four years at the Naval Academy," smiled Ensign Darrin, "it puzzles me to understand how any officer can resent grilling."

"You'll find life very different on one of these big ships," Lieutenant Trout continued. "You will soon begin to realize that we are in a cramped atmosphere. With fifteen hundred officers and men abroad there is barely elbow room at any time, and sometimes not that."

"This ship looks big enough to carry a small city full of people,"

Darrin smiled.

"See here!" Trent stepped to the starboard rail, looking forward.

"Just look ahead, and see the magnificent distance to the bow," continued the officer of the deck. "We call a ship 'she,' Darrin, and let me assure you, 'she' is some girl! Look at the magnificent length and breadth. Yet, when we are at sea, you will soon begin to realize how cramped the life is."

After chatting a little longer with Lieutenant Trent, Ensign Darrin started forward along the decks, taking in all he could see of this huge, floating castle.

Presently he returned to the quarter-deck, but Lieutenant Trent was busy with a lieutenant of the marine guard. Dave stepped inside. Almost immediately he heard a step at his side. Glancing around, Dave looked into the face of Lieutenant Cantor.

"A while ago I noticed you talking with Trent," Dave's division officer remarked, in a low voice.

"Yes, sir."

"Did you discuss me?"

"Yes, sir."

"What did you say, Darrin?"

"I mentioned that you were my division officer."

"Did Trent say anything?"

"Mr. Trent said that you were a very efficient officer."

"Did you tell him anything--about--er--about last night?"

"Nothing," Dave answered.

"Positive about that?" insinuated Cantor.

"Sir," Dave answered, "I am an officer and, I trust--a gentleman."

"Then you told Trent nothing about last night?"

"I have already told you, sir, that I didn't."

"Nor to anyone else on this ship?" pressed the lieutenant.

"I told Dalzell, last night, that I had met with a stranger who was---"

"That will do!" snapped Cantor.

"Very good, sir."

"Have you told Dalzell about me since coming aboard?"

"I have not."

"And you won't?" pressed Cantor.

"On that point, sir, I decline to pledge myself," Darrin responded, with unusual stiffness.

"Darrin, do you want to make an enemy?"

"Mr. Cantor, I never, at any time, wish to make an enemy. I am not trying to make one of you."

"I will regard that as a promise from you," returned Cantor, then moved quickly away.

"It would have been better," murmured Darrin, softly, turning and regarding the moving figure, "if you had heard me out. However, Mr. Cantor, though you are not now here to hear me say it, I did not promise silence. Yet it is difficult to conceive what would make me open my mouth on the subject of last night's happening. I have never been a tale-bearer, and, much as I may despise that fellow, and the affront that he offers the Navy, in remaining in the service, I fancy his secret is safe from all--except Dalzell. Danny and I haven't yet begun to have secrets from each other."

Presently Dan Dalzell, wearing his sword and pulling on his white gloves as he came, appeared, walking aft. There was time only for a smiling nod, for Dave suddenly remembered, with a start that it was time for him to report for change of watch.

Hastening down the passage-way Dave hung his sword on, then hastily rummaged the suit case for a pair of white gloves that he had previously tucked in there.

Hastening, he reached the deck just as the watch was being changed. With quick step Ensign Darrin took his momentary post. Then, when the old watch had gone off duty, Lieutenant Cantor turned to his subordinate with a frown.

"Ensign Darrin, you made a bad beginning, sir," declared the new watch officer, crisply. "In the future, I trust you will be more mindful of the responsibility of an officer in setting his men an example in punctuality. If this occurs again, sir, I shall feel it my duty to turn in report of your negligence!"

Several men of the watch and two of the marine guard hoard this rebuke administered. Dave Darrin's face flushed, then paled from the humiliation of the rebuke. Yet he had been guilty of an actual breach of discipline, minor though it was, and could not dispute Cantor's right to reprove him.

"I very much regret my negligence, sir," Dave answered, saluting, but he bit his lip in the same instant for he realized how thoroughly his superior officer enjoyed the privilege of administering the rebuke.

From inside Dan Dalzell heard the words.

At once, on the stroke of eight bells, the mess signal was hung to the breeze. While that flag flew no one was admitted to the battleship unless he belonged on board.

Then appeared a little Filipino mess servant, who asked Dave and

Dan to follow him to their assigned seats.

"Am I permitted to go to mess, sir?" Dave asked of Lieutenant

Cantor.

"Yes," was the short answer.

While the signal flew the sergeant of the marine guard was in charge at the quarter-deck gang plank. There was no need of a commissioned officer there.

To their delight Darrin and Dalzell found themselves assigned to seats at the table together.

Lieutenant Trent stepped down, introducing the new arrivals to the officers beside whom, and opposite whom they sat.

"I was sorry to hear you get that calling down," Dalzell whispered to his chum, as soon as that was possible under the cover of the conversation of others. "Why did Lieutenant Cantor seem to enjoy his privilege so much?"

After a covert glance, to make sure that he was not in danger of being overheard, Darrin replied, in an undertone:

"Lieutenant Cantor was the man of whom I told you last night."

"Not the---"

"Yes," Dave nodded.

"But it seems incredible that an officer of our Navy could be guilty of any such conduct," Dalzell gasped, his eyes large with amazement. "Are you sure?"

"Didn't you notice the welt on Mr. Cantor's cheek?" Dave asked, dryly.

Danny Grin nodded, then fell silent over his plate.

After the meal Lieutenant Trent saw to it that both the new ensigns were introduced to such officers as they had not met already.

"We can't possibly remember all their names--scores of 'em!" gasped Dan, as the two young officers stood outside the mess.

"We'll learn every name and face before very long," Darrin answered. "But I mustn't stand talking," Dave went on, as he again hung his sword at his side. "I'm on duty, and can't stand another call-down."

"Are you going to tell what Cantor did last night?" Dan queried.

"No; and don't you tell, either!"

"Small fear of my babbling your business, David, little Giant!" assured Dalzell. "You are strong enough to go in and slay your own Goliath."

Drawing on his white gloves, Dave Darrin stepped alertly to the quarter deck, to find himself facing the frown of Lieutenant Cantor.

"Wonder what my man has in store for me?" flashed through Dave's mind, as he saluted his division commander.

But Cantor, after returning the salute, merely turned away to pace the deck.

Presently, however, the lieutenant stepped over to Darrin, when the pair had the quarterdeck to themselves.

"Are you going to tell me?" murmured the lieutenant, his burning gaze on the frank young face before him.

"Tell you what, sir?" Dave asked.

"That taxicab number?"

"No, sir!"

"Think!"

"When I have decided that a given course of conduct is the only course possible to a gentleman," Ensign Darrin replied, "I have no further occasion to give thought to that subject."

"Darrin, you might make me your friend!" urged his superior officer.

"That would be delightful, sir."

"Darrin, don't try to be ironical with me!"

Dave remained silent.

"If you don't care for me for your friend, Darrin," Cantor warned him, "it is possible, on the other hand, to make an enemy of me. As an enemy you would not find me wanting either in resource or opportunity."

"Have you any orders for me, sir?" asked Darrin, coolly. That was as near as he could come, courteously, to informing Cantor that he wished from him none but official communications.

"Pardon me, sir," said Cantor, and stepped away to salute Commander Bainbridge, who had just appeared on the quarter-deck. There was a low-toned conversation between the two officers. Then, as the pair exchanged salutes, and Bainbridge went on to the captain's quarters, Lieutenant Cantor came back to his selected victim.

"Darrin, you will go below and finish the watch, loading stores in the number four hold. I will pass the word for the petty officer who will have charge under you, and he will show you to the hold. If you wish you may put on dungarees, for it is rough work down there."

"My baggage has not come aboard, sir," Dave replied. "This is the only uniform I have."

In his perturbed state of mind, it did not occur to the young ensign that he could draw dungarees--the brown overall suit that is worn by officers and crew alike when doing rough work about the ship, from the stores, nor did Cantor appear to notice his reply.

The messenger came, and brought Riley, the coxswain of one of the gigs.

"Coxswain, Ensign Darrin will take charge of the shipping of the stores in number four hold," Cantor announced. "Show him the way to the hold and receive his instructions."

Dave was speedily engaged between decks, in charge of tire work of some twenty men of the crew. At the hatch above, a boatswain's mate had charge of the lowering of the stores.

"It would be a pity to spoil your uniform, sir," declared Coxswain Riley. "If you'll allow me, sir, I'll spare you all of the dirtiest work."

"To shirk my duty would be a bad beginning of my service on this ship," smiled Darrin. "Thank you, Coxswain, but I'll take my share of the rough work."

The hold was close and stifling. Although a cool breeze was blowing on deck, there was little air in number two hold. In ten minutes Darrin found himself bathed in perspiration. Dust from barrels and packing cases hung heavy in that confined space. The grime settled on his perspiring face and stuck there.

"Look out, sir, or you'll get covered with pitch from some of these barrels," Riley warned Dave, respectfully.

"One uniform spoiled is nothing," Dave answered with a smile.

"Do not be concerned about me."

Officer and men were suffering alike in that close atmosphere. By the time the watch was ended Dave Darrin was truly a pitchy, soiled, perspiration-soaked sight.

Danny Grin, who reported to relieve his chum, looked rough and ready enough in a suit of dungarees that he had drawn.

"I should have had brains enough to remember that I, too, could have drawn dungarees," Dave grunted, as he and his chum exchanged salutes. Then the relieved young officer hastened above to report the completion of his duty to his division commander, who would be furious if kept waiting.

Dave glanced toward Cantor's quarters, then realized that the lieutenant must still be on the quarter deck.

In his haste to be punctual, Darrin forgot his sword and white gloves, which he had left in his own cabin on the way to duty between decks. Without these appurtenances of duty on the quarter-deck, Darrin made haste aft, found his division commander, saluted and reported his relief.

"Mr. Darrin," boomed Cantor, in a tone of high displeasure, "don't you know that an officer reporting to the quarter-deck when in any but dungaree clothes, should wear his gloves and sword. Go and get them, sir--and don't keep me waiting beyond my watch time when I have shore leave!"

Again red-faced and humiliated, Ensign Darrin saluted, wheeled, made haste to his quarters, then returned wearing sword and gloves. This time he saluted and made his report in proper form.

"Mr. Darrin," said his division officer, scathingly, "this is the second time to-day that I have had to teach you the things you should have learned in your first week at Annapolis. You are making a bad beginning, sir."

Dave saluted, but this time did not answer in words.

"You may go, Mr. Darrin, and hereafter I trust to find in you a more attentive and clear-headed officer."

Lieutenant Cantor did not hold his tone low. It is the privilege of an officer to rebuke an enlisted man publicly, and as severely as the offense warrants, and it is the further privilege of an officer to make his rebuke to a subordinate commissioned officer as sharp and stinging as he chooses.

Saluting, without a word, Darrin wheeled and walked to his quarters.

"Cantor will certainly have abundant opportunity to make things warm for me," reflected Darrin, as he sat down before the desk in his cabin. "I wonder what I am to do, in order to keep my self-respect and keep my hands off the fellow. It would probably end my career in the Navy if I struck him on this ship."

For some minutes Darrin sat in a rather dejected frame of mind, reviewing his first acquaintance with this official cur, and the things that had happened on shipboard since.

"I suppose I could ask for a different detail," Dave mused, forlornly. "Undoubtedly, though, I wouldn't get the detail, unless I gave what were considered sufficiently good reasons, and I can't tell tales on my division commander, cur though I know him to be."

In the passage outside, sounded passing footsteps and a laugh.

Dave felt his face flush, for he recognized the voice of Lieutenant

Cantor.

"Danny Grin is a good chum," reflected Darrin, "but in this affair he can't advise me any better than I can advise myself. I wish I could talk freely with some older officer, who knows shipboard life better. But if I were to go to any older officer with such a tale as I have, it would---"

"In, Mr. Darrin?" sounded a cheery voice, and Commander Bainbridge, the executive officer, stood in the doorway, bringing young Darrin to his feet in prompt salute.

"I was passing, Darrin, and so I called," announced the executive officer. "Otherwise, I would have summoned you to my office. Lieutenant Cantor has secured shore leave until eleven o'clock to-night. As we are busy aboard, Mr. Cantor's division is due for watch duty at eight bells this evening. As Mr. Cantor has shore leave you will report as officer of the deck until relieved by Lieutenant Cantor on his return to the ship. At any time between now and four bells report at my office and sign for these instructions."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Returning the ensign's salute, the executive officer next regarded

Darrin's untidy appearance with some displeasure.

"Mr. Darrin," Commander Bainbridge continued, "I note that you must have been on hard duty. No officer, after being relieved, is entitled to retain an untidy appearance longer than is necessary. You should have bathed, sir, and attired yourself becomingly. Neatness is the first requisite in the service."

"I shall be glad to do that sir," Dave answered, respectfully, "as soon as my baggage comes aboard. At present this is the only uniform I have."

"That alters the case, Mr. Darrin," replied the executive officer, kindly. "In case, however, your baggage does not arrive between now and dinner-time, you will not be warranted in going to the ward-room, unless you can borrow a uniform that fits you as well as one of your own."

"I shall be very careful on that point, sir," Dave answered, respectfully, with another salute, returning which Commander Bainbridge departed.

Ten minutes later Darrin's baggage was delivered. In their proper places the young ensign hung his various uniforms, placed his shoes according to regulation, and stowed his linen and underclothing in the wardrobe drawers.

After this a most welcome bath followed. Dave then dressed with care in a fresh blue uniform, stepped to the executive officer's office and signed for his evening orders.

There was time for fifteen minutes in the open air, after which Dave returned to his quarters to dress for dinner. This done, he stepped outside, knowing that the summons to the wardroom would soon come.

At first Dave was the only officer at that point. Commander Bainbridge soon joined him.

A desperate thought entering his mind, Dave addressed the commander as soon as his salute had been returned.

"Sir, may I ask you a question connected with my own personal affairs?" he asked.

"Certainly," replied the executive officer.

"I was wondering, sir, if it would be wise for me to seek counsel from an older officer if at any time I found myself threatened with trouble, or, at least, with unpleasantness."

"It would be a very wise course on your part, Darrin," replied Commander Bainbridge, though he regarded the ensign's face with keen scrutiny. "An older officer should always esteem it a pleasure, as well as a duty, to advise a younger officer. I take an interest in all the officers of this ship. If there is anything in which I can advise you, you may command me."

"Thank you, sir. But, if you will permit me to frame an instance, if the advice that I asked of you might tend to prejudice you against one of your subordinate officers, would it be wiser for me to seek counsel of some officer not higher in rank than the officer whom I have just supposed?"

"That is to say, Mr. Darrin, that the advice you might otherwise wish to ask of me might be taken in the light of a complaint against an officer who is one of my subordinates, and against whom you would not wish to carry tales? In that case, you would, by all means, show good judgment consulting a younger officer. But remember, Darrin, that not all men are equally wise. Be very careful whom you select at any time as adviser. And remember that, for any advice that you may properly ask of me, you may come to me without hesitation."

"Thank you, sir. I trust you realize how deeply grateful I am to you," Dave protested earnestly.

As other officers came up, Commander Bainbridge cut the discussion short by turning to greet the arrivals.

Dinner in the ward-room was the formal meal of the day. The table, covered with snowy damask, glittered with crystal and silver. Silent, soft-moving little Filipinos, in their white mess suits, glided about, serving noiselessly.

At the head of the table sat Commander Bainbridge, the executive officer, for the captain of a battleship dines in solitary state in his own apartments. On either side of the executive officer sat the other officers, in two long rows, according to their rank. On either side of the Commander were seated the officers with rank of lieutenant commander. Next to them were the lieutenants, senior grade. After them came the lieutenants, junior grade. At the foot of the table was a group of ensigns, the lowest in rank of commissioned officers of the Navy.

Course followed course, and good humor prevailed at the officers' table. Now and then a good joke or a witty sally called forth hearty laughter. Here and there officers, dismissing laughter for the time being, talked of graver matters.

Danny Grin soon found time to murmur the question:

"How did you get along with your tyrant this afternoon?"

"No better," Dave answered, moodily.

"Did he rake you over the coals again?"

"Yes." Then Darrin detailed the circumstances.

"I am afraid he has it in for you, all right," muttered Danny Grin, scowling.

"He'll report me as often as he can, I don't doubt," Dave replied. "If he can bring me up before a general court-martial, all the better."

"I'm sorry you're not in Trent's division," Dan sighed. "He's a gentleman--a regular, sea-going officer."

"Sea-going" is the highest praise that can be given in Navy circles.

"If I were in Trent's division, probably you'd have fallen under

Cantor," Darrin suggested.

"That would have been all right," nodded Dalzell, cheerily. "Cantor has no direct cause to hate me, as he has in your case. Besides, I'd do a good many things to a mean superior that you wouldn't. If I had to stand watch with Cantor, and he tried any queer treatment of me, I'd find a way to make his life miserable. I believe I've shown some skill in that line in the past."

"You surely have," Darrin nodded. "But I don't like to spring traps for my superior officers to fall into."

"Not even in self-defence?" challenged Dalzell.

"Not even to save myself," Darrin declared. At eight bells, in Lieutenant Cantor's absence, Darrin took the watch trick alone as officer of the deck until six bells, or eleven o'clock that night.

There was not much to do. Now and then a shore leave man, sailor or marine, reported coming on board. Darrin made a note of the man's return and entered the time. Twice, a messenger brought some small order from the executive officer. Yet it was a dull watch, with the ship docked and nothing of importance happening.

"Cantor will soon be back," thought Dave, at last, slipping out his watch and glancing at it under the light that came from the cabin. His timepiece showed the time to be five minutes to eleven.

But a quarter of an hour passed, and no Lieutenant Cantor appeared.

More time slipped by without the lieutenant's return.

"That doesn't sound much like the punctuality that is required of a naval officer," Dave told himself, in some disquiet.

Then finally a step was heard on the gangplank. Lieutenant Cantor came briskly up over the side, halting on the deck and saluting toward the stern, where the colors flew until sundown.

"Mr. Darrin, I've come on board," reported the lieutenant, turning in time to catch Dave's salute.

He stepped closer, to add:

"You will enter a note that I came on board at 10.58."

"The time is eleven-forty, sir," Dave reminded his superior, at the same time displaying his watch.

"Note that I came on board at 10.58," insisted Cantor, frowning.

"Sentry!" called Dave, briskly.

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"Note the time on the chronometer inside," Darrin ordered.

"Aye, aye, sir." Then, returning the marine sentry answered:

"It's eleven-forty, sir."

Dave made the entry of the lieutenant's return.

"You infernal trouble-maker," hissed Cantor, as the sentry paced on. "You dragged that sentry into it, just so you would have supporting testimony of the time I came aboard! I'll pay you back for that! Look out for trouble, Mr. Darrin!"