"I assure you that I am not spoiling for a fight," answered Marcy. "I'd rather not go into one; but since I've got it to do, I wish we might get at it and have it over with." And as he said this he picked up his left hand, which had been hanging by his side, and placed it in the sling he wore around his neck.
"Look here, Perk," said the other young officer, when he observed this movement. "I'll bet you have been giving advice to one who knows more than you do. Where did you get that hand, pilot, if it is a fair question?"
"My hand is all right, but my arm was broken by one of your shells while I was running the blockade," replied Marcy, whereupon the youngsters opened their eyes, and looked at him and at each other as though they felt the least bit ashamed of themselves.
"But of course you did not know anything about it, and I don't think hard of it if you took me for a greenhorn."
"I took you for a lad of spirit and courage when Mr. Watkins told me how you had been living back there in the country," exclaimed Perkins. "But of course I did not know that you had snuffed powder."
"I should think that shell would have taken your arm off instead of breaking it," observed the other.
"The shell never came near me, but a heavy splinter that was torn from our rail made me think I was a goner," replied Marcy. "The man you saw put into the brig, and afterward taken out and sent aboard the store-ship, was my old captain; and I was acting as pilot of his vessel at the time I was hit. And I am as strong for the Union as anybody in this squadron. I have a brother on one of these boats, and would like much to see him."
"You don't say?" exclaimed Perkins. "What boat is he on, and what position does he hold?"
"He is a foremast hand on the Harriet Lane. I hope he will make himself known to his commander, for he is the best kind of a pilot for this coast."
"I am afraid he will not be of any use to us to-day, and that you will not shake hands with him this trip," replied Perkins. "That boat is not with us. She is outside, chasing blockade runners. Hallo! There goes our answering pennant. Now, watch the signal from the flag-ship—one, nine, five, second-repeater—Aw, what's the use of my reading off the numbers when I have no signal-book to translate them for me?"