While he was at his mess-table at supper that evening First Classman Anderson passed and sang out: “Osborn, you have a forecastle anchor watch from eleven till midnight to-night. What’s your hammock billet?”
“Twenty-seven; will I be called?”
“The man you relieve will attend to that unless he wants an extra hour’s watch. Creelton is your relief; find out where he sleeps, and call him, will you?”
“All right. I guess I’ll be sleepy enough at midnight to be anxious to see him.”
Ralph turned out at eleven and relieved Streeter.
“There’s nothing much to turn over, Os,” said Streeter. “The steam launch is secured at the starboard boom; the catamaran is at the port. Anderson is the midshipman officer of the deck and Jenson is the midshipman quartermaster of the watch. Everything’s quiet. Report any boat you see coming alongside; the enlisted anchor watch are sleeping on the deck just forward of the executive’s office. That’s all; I’m sleepy. Good-night.”
Ralph walked up and down the forecastle deck on the starboard side. There was nothing for him to do except to keep awake, and it didn’t seem at all likely that anything would occur in the hour he was on watch. It was a still night; the moon was fall, the water about the ship perfectly calm. Soon after he was on watch he noticed a small rowboat approaching the ship.
“Boat ahoy!” he called out.
“Liberty man!” was the reply from the boat. The boat came alongside the port gangway, and Hester stepped aboard.
“I’ve come aboard to sleep; I’m on liberty till six to-morrow afternoon, sir,” reported Hester to Midshipman Anderson.