“In the first place, when you come to the door bearing a message for me you should halt outside and rap, saying, ‘orderly, sir’; then wait for the summons to enter. When I call you to give you some directions, you need not rap. Say nothing, but enter and come to attention. Do you understand!”
“Yes, sir.”
“I am sure you will do better next time. You will now go to the officer of the deck, and say that I wish to see Mr. Coates, the executive officer, at his early convenience.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” answered Sam, backing away. He bethought himself of the door sill just in time to prevent another tumble, this time out into the corridor.
Sam delivered his message and returned to his station, where he pondered deeply over what had befallen him.
“I hope the boys don’t hear about that,” he muttered. “They’d make this ship so warm for me that I should have to jump overboard. I—I couldn’t stand it; that’s all.”
Shortly after that, the captain decided to make an inspection of the ship. It was a long and tiresome journey. For the next two hours Sam Hickey was climbing down and up ladders, crawling through narrow spaces, his head swimming, his face red and perspiring.
“This orderly business isn’t all it is supposed to be,” he complained to himself, when once more they had emerged upon the quarter-deck, Sam following obediently behind the ship’s commander. From there, they went to the bridge.
“How are you headed?” questioned the captain of the man at the wheel.
“South, southeast one half,” came the answer.