“Good gracious, you boys are always having adventures. Whose horse was it you stopped?”
“I’ve no idea, sir. We hurried away after we saw the young lady was all right.”
A smile flitted across the captain’s face.
“Upon my word, Strong, are you qualifying for a hero of romance?” he inquired. “Stopping a horse with a young lady on board it! Really, you are plunging into adventure with a vengeance! But I sent for you to assign you to an important piece of duty. Eight of our men are ashore,—in some vile den in Chinatown, I suppose. You will take ten men ashore in Number One Steamer. They will be armed with loaded service revolvers.”
Ned’s eyes flashed. This was an important detail, he knew. Usually such work was assigned to the marines; and that he was to be intrusted with the command of such a squad made him square his shoulders even more than usual and feel a thrill of satisfaction at the confidence reposed in him by his captain.
“Aye, aye, sir,” he said, striving not to betray his delight.
“Report to the master-at-arms with my orders. He will do the rest. Use no unnecessary violence. Simply bring the men on board the ship.”
“Aye, aye, sir. Is that all?”
“That’s all, my lad. Carry on and waste no time.”
Ned saluted and retired. He proceeded straight to the master-at-arms, who handed him a typewritten list of names.