At length he reached the top, a small platform mounted by machine guns and surrounded by a steel rail. At one place there was an opening in this rail, across which a rope had been stretched. It looked very thin, small and unsubstantial to guard an open space more than a hundred feet above the ship’s deck, but it was quite strong enough for the blue-jackets, who gave little thought to such matters.
As he gained the top, Ned received a surprise. The other man aloft was Sharp, the seaman he had taken out of the Chinese den in San Francisco. He had received, thanks to Ned’s lack of malice, only a short sentence in the brig and was now on duty again.
“Hullo, Sharp,” said Ned pleasantly, as he clambered into the top.
Sharp scowled at him but didn’t say anything at the moment.
“I’m glad to see that you’re out again,” pursued Ned. “I hope you don’t bear any malice, Sharp. I was only doing my duty.”
“Oh, that’s what all you precious mamma’s babies say,” growled out Sharp in a sullen tone.
His rage suddenly flared up.
“I’ve got it in for you, Strong,” he snarled.
“Don’t talk foolishly, Sharp. Only fools and children nurse a grudge. It’s all over so far as I’m concerned, and you know I tried to let you off as easy as I could at the mast.”
“What of that? My shore leave is being stopped, ain’t it? I don’t get ashore at Honolulu.”