As day after day went by life on the Russian warship became almost unendurable for Larry and the others. They suffered greatly for the want of fresh air, and at last made a vigorous protest to the captain of the ship, when he happened to be passing the pen. As a result orders were given that they should be allowed three hours on deck each day, one in the morning and two after dinner.
"This is a little like," said Larry, when coming on deck for the first time. "Oh, how good it feels to breathe fresh air once more!" And he filled his lungs to their fullest capacity.
For their daily exercise Larry and Luke were chained together, and the pair inspected with great curiosity as much of the warship as was allowed.
"It's not so very different from some of our own auxiliary cruisers," said Larry. "But, after all, I like ours better."
"That's right, lad; stick up fer your own country every trip."
"Well, what do you say, Luke?"
"I say I'd rather be on one of Uncle Sam's ships than on any other in the world."
While allowed to roam around on deck, Larry often looked eagerly for the Columbia, but the schooner and the Chinese junk were too far off to be distinguished with the naked eye.
"We'd give a good deal to be back on her deck, wouldn't we, Luke?" said he.
"Don't mention it, lad; it makes me sick," grumbled the Yankee tar.