"No, sir; I think we can manage them. But we need the doctor right away. Seaman Davis is hurt."
"No, no," protested Dan. "I'm all right. I want to report. I'm not a baby, sir."
"I should say you are not."
Dan was permitted to stand up as the whaleboat drew up to the starboard gangway. Waiting until the boat rose on a swell he grasped a stanchion, swinging himself to the platform of the gangway by sheer grit, for he had little strength left. He poised on the landing planking, still clinging to the stanchion. A jackie ran down the gangway, extending a helping hand.
"Never mind me. I'm all right, shipmate," said the boy pluckily.
Directing all his strength to the task, the Battleship Boy climbed the gangway. Never before had the stairs seemed so long to him. At last he reached the quarter-deck.
"You are hurt, my lad," exclaimed the captain, starting forward. "Surgeon, here!"
Dan's face was covered with blood, while the white jacket was stained a deep crimson clear down to his duck trousers.
All at once he started forward unsteadily. He had espied the officer of the deck, the one whose command he had nearly lost his life in obeying.
"Sir, I beg to report that I have overhauled the dinghy and captured the men."