“Yes, sir.”
“Name him.”
Dan was silent.
“Point out the man who did it.”
“Sir, I would rather not,” answered Dan, eyeing the officer steadily, but with nothing of disrespect in his gaze.
“I repeat, point out the man.”
“Sir, I have no wish to inform on one of my shipmates. I wish you would not press the question, sir. I wish to obey orders strictly, but I cannot be a sneak. Perhaps the pie was thrown in a spirit of fun. I am sure the man who threw it is sorry for his act now, and then there was no harm done, except that my uniform is slightly soiled.”
The quartermaster turned to Sam Hickey. For a moment he eyed the freckled-faced boy steadily. Sam did not quail. He returned the quartermaster’s gaze steadily.
“You were hit also?”
“Yes, sir.”