It was of course agreed that but one career was possible for Young Brydell, and that was the navy. The ensign thought so, and so did the admiral and Grubb and Billy Bowline and Capps, the watchman, who was a chum of Billy’s as well as of Young Brydell’s.
One day, though, a strange thing happened about Capps. Young Brydell, coming along from school, whistling the bugle call, saw Capps sitting in his usual place on the bench in the shade by the ordnance building. Young Brydell called out as usual:—
“Hello, Capps!”
But Capps did not move. His eyes were closed, and Young Brydell, after playfully prodding him with a slate pencil, went his way. Presently he met Cunliffe, who also saw the old sailor sitting so still upon the bench.
“Let’s have some fun with old Capps,” cried Cunliffe.
“No, you sha’n’t,” answered Young Brydell stoutly. “Capps is a friend of mine and I won’t have him teased.”
Words followed this, and it ended by Young Brydell giving his young friend a kick on the shin, by way of testifying his loyalty to his old friend. Just then Grubb came along and asked the cause of the difficulty. Young Brydell pointed to Capps. Grubb went up to him, touched him, and then came back to the two boys, looking rather strange.
“You young gentlemen go along now; I know the admiral’ll want you to go along, and I’ll tell you all about it after a while,” he said hurriedly.
The boys walked away, but from the window in Young Brydell’s room they saw Grubb and another marine take Capps up, who appeared to be quite limp, and carry him off to the dispensary, and an hour or two afterward they met Lucy, the apple-cheeked maid at the admiral’s house, with her apron to her eyes; she, too, had been a friend of the ex-boatswain.
“Mr. Capps is dead!” cried Lucy with a fresh burst of tears, “and ain’t it too dreadful?—oh, dear, oh, dear!”