Ned and Herc found themselves in the second boat, and as they had become separated from old Tom in the rush to board the craft, they had now no mentor to advise them, and felt curiously alone among the laughing, joking bluejackets that crowded the boats to the gunwales.
"I see the old man's ordered his winter's supply of kindling!" came in a loud stage whisper from the boat in which the two lads were seated.
The "old man" always refers to the commander of a man-of-war, in the parlance of the jackies.
"Say, Bill, your thatch is on fire!" laughed another.
Poor Herc felt his cheeks turn as red as his unlucky hair under the running fire of banter which, there was no room to doubt, was intended for him.
"Might be a good thing to call fire stations," grinned another. "I don't much like the idea of sailing on a battleship with so much combustible stuff aboard."
"Like being shipmates with a red-hot stove," put in another before-the-mast humorist.
"Keep cool, Herc," whispered Ned, who was beginning to dread an outburst on the part of his impulsive companion.
Unfortunately his whisper was overheard, and a shout went up from those nearest the two boys.
"That's right! 'Keep cool, Herc!'" they mimicked. "Don't get afire, mate, or we may have to duck you."