Herc went on to relate his experiences. When he had concluded, the captain said:—
“It is plain by your story that you were not prompt to obey orders and that your imprisonment was your own fault entirely.”
The Dreadnought Boy shifted about uncomfortably. Something dreadful was going to be done with him, he felt sure.
“However,” went on the commanding officer of the Manhattan, “I think that your period of detention on board that ship has taught you a good lesson. Carry on.”
“I’m not to be put in the brig, sir?”
The captain had to pass a hand over his face to hide a smile at Herc’s tone of relief.
“No; not this time. But be warned in the future. Your offense was a serious one. You delayed the fleet entirely without necessity.”
Herc was received on the forecastle by a group of his cronies. He told them all that had occurred at his session at “the mast.”
“Good for you, Red Head,” they cried; “you gave the brig a wide berth this trip, all right.”
The red-headed boy drew himself up quite proudly. Mentally he was patting himself on the back.