Smith made a jump for the Iron Boy.
Steve stepped lightly to one side, putting out his foot as the stoker shot by him. Smith's head hit the edge of a hatch, then he sprawled forward on the deck.
"So you're the fellow who gave me that blow in the dark last night, are you?" demanded the lad in a stern voice.
"I—I'll kill you for this!" roared the stoker, raising a vengeful face to the Iron Boy.
"You'll do it some dark night, then. You haven't the courage to face a man in broad daylight and meet him man to man—no; I won't put it that way, for you are no man. You're just a common tough, that's what you are. Now get up and take your medicine, for you're going to get a walloping that ought to last you longer than the hose bath did."
Smith sprang to his feet and rushed at his young antagonist. He did not reach Steve, however. The fellow suddenly received a blow under the ear that sent him spinning and tumbling over among the hatches that extended above the deck some two feet at their highest point.
But Steve had not delivered the blow. He had not even raised his hands, though he was standing in position ready to meet the charge of the tough stoker.
"Get up, you hound!" roared Captain Simms.
It was he who had delivered the blow. He had emerged from the mess room just in time to see the stoker's enraged face over Steve Rush's shoulder. The captain understood instantly what Smith was about to do. The skipper took two quick strides forward and his powerful fist smote the other man a terrific blow.
The stoker leaped to his feet and went for the captain, now enraged beyond all control. But he had reckoned without his man. The skipper knocked the angry stoker down almost before the latter could raise his fists.