“I will. I’m feeling better now. I guess I needed a good shaking up to jar the seasickness out of me. I haven’t that ‘went-away’ feeling now.”
“I guess you must mean a ‘gone’ feeling, do you not?” smiled Dan.
“Yes; I was gone, all right.”
“Well, don’t worry about it. Nothing may happen as the result of your fight.”
“Fight? Do you call that a fight? It wasn’t a fight. If I had been feeling right there might have been a fight. There may be yet. I have an idea I have not heard the last of Kester. If he gives me half a chance I’m going to pay him back for that cowardly blow.”
“Be sure you are in the right, Sam,” cautioned Dan. “Keep your head. Defend yourself, if you have to, but see to it that you do not stir up any trouble.”
Dan’s advice always was good, and Sam gave more heed to it than he appeared to. As a matter of fact, he set much store by the advice and counsel of his cool-headed friend, Dan Davis.
That evening passed uneventfully and the lads enjoyed a refreshing night, with the cool breezes from the sea blowing over their swaying hammocks.
On the following morning after breakfast the master-at-arms tapped Sam on the shoulder.
“You will report at mast on the quarter-deck at one o’clock, sharp,” he said.