Clyde took hold, and tugged with all his might; but the brace would not come away. To tell the exact truth, there was a disposition among the students to haze the new comer, and the main brace men had agreed among themselves to let him do the whole of the work. They pretended to haul, but not one of them bore a pound upon the brace.
“Pull!” shouted Clyde, at the top of his lungs, as he strained at the rope. “Why don’t you pull, boys?”
“Silence on the quarter-deck!” cried the executive officer—for all work was required to be performed in silence. “Walk away with the main brace.”
“Come, boys, why don’t you pull?” roared Clyde, who was blest with a pair of hearty lungs.
“Silence, Blacklock! You mustn’t hollo like that when you are on duty,” interposed De Forrest.
“Who says I mustn’t?” demanded Clyde, dropping his hold upon the brace, and walking up to the officer who had dared to give him these words of counsel, which were uttered in a mild and pleading tone, rather than in those of authority.
“Starboard the helm,” said the executive officer.
“Starboard, sir,” repeated the quartermaster at the wheel.
“Walk away with that main brace!” added the first lieutenant.
The main brace men, finding that Clyde was at issue with the fourth lieutenant, applied themselves to their work, and the main yard swung round.