“Well, maybe you’d better. No use taking any chances.”
“It’s tough luck,” said Ned. “And I wanted to be in for target practice, too,” for it had become known that the day would be given over to that drill.
“Never mind,” Frank consoled him. “You’ll have your chance later.”
So while Frank, with the others, went through the early morning duties, Ned did not. Of course his absence was noted by the officer in charge of his division, who each day inspected the men under his charge and made a report to the executive. In turn Ned’s name reached the captain as not being at his post, but that was merely a matter of routine.
At 8:30 each day, aboard the battleships, there is what is known as sick-call. At that time all who are not well must consult the medical officer. But Ned could not do this as he could only limp, so he was taken on a stretcher and it was found that he was suffering from a severe bruise. He was sent to the hospital, where he was told he would have to stay in bed for two or three days.
And so Ned missed the first target practice, which was with three-inch guns. Frank told him about it afterward.
“Oh, well, that isn’t so bad, if it was only three-inch guns,” remarked the invalided lad. “I was afraid I’d miss the big ones.”
“They come later,” Frank remarked.
“Say, Frank,” whispered Tom Dawson, one of the recruits from Norfolk, to Ned’s brother a little later, “do you know who it was cut the ropes of the hammock?”
“I have my suspicions,” was the answer.