“Well, I can tell you for sure. It was that sneak, Hank Dell. He’s boasting of it now!”
“I was pretty sure he did. What was his object?”
“I guess he wants you and your brother to shift to some other mess. There are a couple of tough friends of his that he wants to berth alongside of him in your places.”
“Well, he’s welcome to have them as far as I’m concerned,” Frank said, “but he needn’t have gone that way about it. I think I’ll have to take it out on him.”
“I would,” advised Tom. “Some of us will stand by you. We don’t like Hank any too well. Slip down below right after afternoon drill, and there’ll be a clear place where you can see how well he can handle his fists.”
Boxing is encouraged among the blue-jackets, and Frank was an adept at it. He had seen Hank in action, and realized that he, too, could put up a good fight.
Afternoon drill began at 1:30 o’clock, and on this occasion consisted of a talk on projectiles, and practice in sighting the big gun, and in firing a dummy charge. It was over at three, and Frank slipped below. Some of those in the secret followed him.
Just how it had been brought about Frank did not know, but in a secluded place on a lower deck he found a number of his friends, and there, also, was Hank with a few of his cronies. Hank did not wait but swaggered up to Frank and said:
“I understand you have been sayin’ things about me.”