A moment later a cluster of lights swung aloft from the main truck of the frigate.
And leaning out over the lee railing of the bridge were the two officers, both watching for answering signals, but neither confessing to the other the anxiety caused by that threatening puff of wind.
On vessels of war each separate boat, from the sailing launch to the dingy, has its own crew, and coxswain. In certain drills and ceremonies, such as abandon ship, every man on board ship is ticketed to a certain boat. To that craft he promptly repairs when the signal is given. Constant practice makes every member of the crew familiar with his duties, and drill, or the real action, passes without confusion.
The sailing launch of the Monongahela was a large seaworthy boat, capable of safely carrying twenty men. When it was rowed away from the frigate on this dark night it contained that number in its crew.
The officer in charge was a lieutenant, and he had under his command five seamen, a coxswain and thirteen cadets.
Among the latter were Clif, Trolley and Joy.
“I say, Trolley, isn’t this nice work for Christians to be laboring at?” asked Joy. “Didn’t I tell you that war causes all the trouble in this world? Here we are out in the bosom of the mighty deep, working away like a lot of slaves when we might be comfortable starving at home. I tell you peace is the thing.”
The Japanese youth laughed softly.
“You fool me one time, my Joy,” he replied. “I think when I first know you that you great boy for peace. But——”
He chuckled, and added, with evident zest: