The lad took his place in front of the captain, who, at the moment, was studying the record sheet giving Sam’s history.
“Where is the man who makes this charge?” demanded the captain.
Kester was thrust forward by the master-at-arms.
“State your case,” commanded the captain.
“I was standing on the gun deck, facing forward, sir, when this man Hickey comes along and hits me with the deck swab.”
“He hit you with the deck swab?”
“With the handle, sir.”
“Where did he hit you?”
“On the gun deck, sir, aft the eight-inch gun.”
“I should say by your appearance that you had been hit on the nose instead of on the gun deck,” replied the captain, without the suspicion of a smile on his face.