CHAPTER XIII—RESENTING AN INSULT
The services of two jackies were required to boost Hickey into his hammock that night at nine o’clock, when hammocks were piped up.
At five o’clock next morning, when the bugle piped all hands out, the red-haired Jackie was in a sad state. His hair was standing up like the quill of a porcupine, fairly bristling with disorder. When Dan helped him down to the deck Sam fell in a heap.
“Brace up!” urged Dan. “Don’t let them think you a landlubber.”
“I don’t care what they think. I’m a sick man.”
“Never mind; you will feel better after you get some hot breakfast inside of you.”
“Breakfast! Waugh!”
Dan helped his chum to the shower baths, where Sam took a cold bath that tuned him up considerably. He was still very uncertain on his feet, however, as he made his way forward for his deck swab, for the first duty of the day was to take up his occupation of swabbing decks.
Sam’s footsteps lagged that morning. He was several paces behind the other swabbers all the time.
“What’s the matter, red-head?” questioned one of the jackies.