“Davis downed him the other night,” laughed the executive officer.
For two days Dan Davis raged in delirium; then on the morning of the third day, as the ship was riding easily at anchor, the sun peeping through the portholes of the cabin, the Battleship Boy opened his eyes. He gazed about him wonderingly.
“What place is this?” he asked.
“This is the captain’s cabin.”
“Am I the captain?”
“No, but you have been very ill,” the nurse informed him. “Lie still and keep quiet.”
Dan closed his eyes blissfully. Such luxury as that with which he was surrounded exceeded his fondest dreams.
From that moment, Dan improved rapidly. He was able to be up and dressed on the fourth day, and in another twenty-four hours he was on deck, where he was provided with a chair near the stern of the quarter-deck. Sam took great pleasure in winking at his shipmates when they passed him, he having remained with Dan constantly. Sam was enjoying himself hugely.
One morning, soon after, Dan reported that he felt fit for duty, and asked to be permitted to return to his post. Sam advised him not to do so, but in this Dan persisted. However, he did not return to his post that day, nor for several days thereafter.
That afternoon a muster was called on the quarter-deck. The Battleship Boys were surprised when informed that their presence was required on deck. Upon arriving there, they were lined up in front of the captain and executive officer, as if they were to be sentenced after a court-martial. On each side of them stood their shipmates, erect, shoulders thrown well back, each brown face reflecting a poorly-disguised smile.