“Mr. Coates, the storm appears to be abating. I think we may safely turn about and steam slowly back toward our anchorage now.”
They were out of sight of land by this time. The big ship was turned about and headed back over the reverse course. At noon, eight bells again, Hickey was relieved from his duty, another man taking his place.
The boy heaved a deep sigh of relief and hurried forward to hunt up Dan, to whom he confided his experiences of the morning. Dan laughed until he could laugh no more.
“Don’t—don’t tell any of the fellows, please,” begged Sam.
“It’s too—it’s too good to keep,” gasped Dan between laughs.
“Dan Davis, if you tell a human being about that I’ll thrash you worse than either of us thrashed Bill Kester. Now tell about it, if you want to.”
Dan sobered.
“Very well; if you feel that badly about it I won’t say a word.”
“You had better not,” growled Sam.
The rest of the afternoon was devoted to routine duties aboard ship, Sam having gotten into his old clothes for the work before him. Painting ship was continued. Corridors and gun decks showed the result of the work that already had been done, and the smell of fresh paint was everywhere.