CHAPTER X
HIS NARROW ESCAPE
Leaving Sam in the throes of composition, Dan walked out on deck. A few moments later he uttered a sharp exclamation and clapped a hand to his left ear, through which he felt a sudden, sharp pain. As he brought the hand away, the fingers felt wet.
Dan stepped up under a port light that opened out to the deck, and, holding up the fingers, peered at them.
"Blood, eh! Well, that's funny. Something must have hit me."
He glanced about him. He was almost alone; there were not a half dozen sailors on deck, and these lay stretched out, sleeping soundly in the cool evening air.
"That is strange," wondered the lad, trying to stanch the flow of blood with his handkerchief. He had been about to turn back and rejoin Sam when the incident occurred.
Dan paused to think over just what had happened.
"Oh, I remember, now. I heard something strike the deck. That must have been after it hit me. I'll see if I can find out what it was."
Stepping carefully along over the deck, feeling with his toes, the boy almost tripped over some object which he knew did not belong there.
With an exclamation Dan stooped over. His hand came in contact with a piece of cold steel. The instant his fingers touched it he knew what he had found.
"A marline spike," breathed Dan. "No wonder it hurt."
The missile that had hit him is used for twisting the strands of rope apart. It is of steel, about eight inches long, and tapers to a needle point. It makes a most dangerous weapon.
Dan carried this to the light, examining it carefully. Its point was still moist where it had caught him.
"Somebody must have tried to kill me," he muttered. "An inch further, and I certainly should have been a dead one. Who could have done such a dastardly thing? I can't understand it at all."
The lad hurried back to where he had left his companion. Sam started to speak, but he saw something in the face of Dan Davis that suddenly checked his levity.
"Why, what's the matter?" he cried.
"Nothing, except that some one tried to kill me just now."
"Tried to kill you?"
"Yes; look here."
Dan removed the handkerchief, and Sam, with gentle fingers, made a careful examination of the wound.
"Punched a hole right through the lobe of your ear. Who did that?" he demanded in a low, tense voice.
"I wish I knew."
"How did they do it? It looks as if you had been shot."
"They did it with this, Sam," answered Dan, exhibiting the marline spike.
Sam uttered a low growl, as he took the pointed spike, holding it in his hand reflectively.
"You must have that dressed, right away. Come along. We'll go to see Pills. There is time, if we hurry."
"Yes; I guess it had better be attended to. I shall have such a big ear to-morrow that they will not have me on deck."
"Worse cauliflower ear than you gave Bill Kester," laughed Sam. "We'll look into this business in the morning. We shan't have time to-night, I'm sorry to say."
On their way to the sick bay, where they were hurrying to have the wound dressed, the boys were obliged to pass the quarters of the master-at-arms, the minor official who is responsible for the behavior of all hands on shipboard.
Ere Dan could protest, Sam had rapped on the door casing, and an instant later was dragging his companion in through the curtained doorway.
"Now what do you think of that, sir?" exclaimed the red-headed boy.
"Seaman Davis got hurt, eh?" questioned the petty officer, noting the blood on Dan's cheek.
"Yes, sir. I am on my way to see the surgeon. If I have to be a few moments late in reporting for hammocks, will you excuse me?"
"Certainly. I will give you a half hour's leeway. How did you get that wound?"
"Somebody handed him a marline spike, sir," interrupted Hickey.
"A marline spike?"
"Yes, they did."
The master-at-arms turned inquiringly on Dan.
"Is this true?"
Dad nodded half reluctantly.
"Tell me how it occurred."
The boy did so briefly.
"You have no idea who threw the spike?"
"Not the slightest, sir."
"Where were you, Hickey?"
"Below, writing a letter. I knew nothing about it, until my chum came below and I saw the blood on his face."
"Have you any enemies on board?"
"Not that I know of, sir."
"Was anyone except yourself on deck at the time?"
"Yes; a few of the men were asleep further forward. I saw no one moving about."
"Come with me."
The master-at-arms conducted Dan to the surgeon, where a quick examination was made of the wound, after which the surgeon dressed it and put in several stitches. Dan did not even wince, though the pain was severe. Sam's face was pale, and the perspiration stood out on his forehead as he watched the stitching of the ragged ear-lobe.
"Anybody would think you were being operated upon by the looks of you," laughed Dan.
"I feel as if I were," answered Sam rather weakly.
The wound attended to, the petty officer directed the boys to follow him, which they did, going directly to the forward deck.
"Show me where and how you were standing at the time of the accident, Davis."
Dan took the place, as nearly as he could, where he had been standing when the marline spike struck him.
"Which way were you facing?"
"Forward, sir."
"The spike was thrown from behind you then?"
"Yes, sir, it must have been."
"Here is where it hit the deck, sir," called Sam.
"Do you recall how it appeared when you took hold of it?"
"I think the head of the spike was leaning aft. I should say it had about a forty-degree lean."
The master-at-arms nodded.
"It is quite clear that the spike was thrown at you from the superstructure. By the way, where's the spike?"
"I have it," said Sam, extending the spike to the petty officer.
"I will take care of this. Say nothing about what has occurred, but keep your eyes open. If you have reason to suspect any one, let me know at once. I can hardly believe that we have a man on board the 'Long Island' desperate enough to attempt a crime like this. If ever there was an attempted murder this is one. Go to your quarters now."
In the excitement following the attempt on his life, Dan had forgotten all about the letter he had written to his mother. It did not occur to him until the boys were at gun practice with the seven-inch piece the following morning. He turned to Sam at the first opportunity.
"What did you do with my letter?" he demanded.
"I put it in my ditty box last night. I was too excited to remember that it belonged to you. I'll give it to you when we are piped down for mess."
"All right; I want to add something to it."
"Say, Dynamite," said a companion, "where did you get the game ear?"
"It was hurt," answered Dan evasively.
"It looks as if a bulldog had been chewing at it. You never did that of your own accord, did you?"
"That is a foolish question. It isn't likely that I would tear half my ear off, just for the fun of the thing, is it?"
Further conversation was interrupted by an order from the gun captain to resume dotter practice. For the next hour the attention of the boys was wholly taken up by this fascinating work.
After mess Dan asked for his letter. Sam got out his ditty box and handed the letter back rather sheepishly; after which he busied himself with pawing over the articles in his box.
"Am I to read what you have written?" questioned Dan with a smile.
"You may read it, if you want to," answered Sam, growing very red. "I didn't figure on your doing so, though."
"Well, you insisted on knowing what I had written to mother, so I guess you will have to take the same medicine," retorted Dan with a laugh, as he opened the sheet on which his companion had written his message to Mrs. Davis.
Dan's face sobered as he read, but he made no comment until he had gone through the letter. He glanced up with swimming eyes. Sam was not looking at him. The red-headed boy was deeply absorbed in his ditty box at that moment.
"Sam Hickey, look at me," commanded Dan.
"I'm looking at you."
"Do you mean that you want to give your two hundred dollars to mother?"
"Yes, that's what I mean," answered Sam, defiantly. "I haven't any mother. Why shouldn't I give your mother my money? I haven't any use for it, except what I need for clothes, and I reckon I've got clothes enough to last me to the end of the cruise. By that time I'll have another wad. Don't you say a word. I've made up my mind. Maybe your mother would fix up a place in the garret where I could sleep when I go back home again."
"In the garret? Well, I should think not. The best bedroom in the house will be none too good for you, Sam Hickey, and that without your contributing to the house fund either. I can't have it. I——"
"Then I'll sling my hammock in the back yard and roost with the hens. That will be as good as some places I have had to sleep in since I joined the Navy."
"I can't have it, Sam," answered Dan firmly. "No, I cannot accept your gift. Remember, old fellow," added Dan, grasping his companion by the hand, "you owe so much to yourself that you have no business to be generous."
"There's the captain's orderly," interrupted Sam. "I guess he is looking for us. I hope nothing is wrong."
"Are you Seaman Davis?" asked the orderly, who on this occasion was one of the marines.
"Yes."
"The captain wishes to see you in his office before you are piped up to work again."
"I will be there at once. Sam, we'll talk this matter over later. But, remember, I shall not listen to your doing what you have planned, but I'll send your letter to mother so she may know what a great big-hearted fellow you are. I must go now."
Sam had his way, however, and the money went with the letter.