[CHAPTER XXIX.]
THE STUFF A JACKIE'S MADE OF.
Hastily the gunnery officer scribbled a note and handed it to Herc.
"Here, my man, take this to Captain Dunham," he said, thrusting the paper into Herc's hand.
The red-headed boy was off like a flash, and a second later the captain, who had already witnessed the signaling of the successful hit, was reading the details of the wonderful results achieved with the new gun.
He detained Herc several minutes while he asked him numerous questions about the handling of the gun, all of which the boy answered so intelligently as to bring nods of approbation from the group of officers surrounding the commander of the Manhattan on the vessel's flying bridge.
By the time Herc started back for the turret, the Manhattan was close upon the second target.
"I've got to hurry," thought the boy, quickening his pace.
But before he had more than reached the midship section of the Dreadnought another mighty shock set her stout frame aquiver, and Herc knew another shot had been fired.