“Don’t touch him, sir. If he is to be punished, let the proper persons attend to it.”
“Mind your own business, Faraday,” snapped Sharpe, jerking his wrist from Clif’s grasp. “I’ll have you soaked for interfering. As for that crazy plebe, he’ll be fired for this.”
Just then the officer of the deck and Lieutenant Watson, the executive officer, who had been attracted by the commotion, came hurrying forward.
Nanny, who seemed in a daze, caught sight of them. Fear for his rash action and a vague idea of the punishment he had incurred, sent the color from his cheeks.
He gave one appealing glance toward Clif, then he made a spring for the port foremast shrouds.
“Hi! Stop!” called out the first lieutenant.
“Catch him, some one,” ordered the officer of the deck.
A rush was made after the lad, in which both Spendly and Judson Greene took active part, but they were a second too late.
Nanny’s lack of experience was more than overbalanced by his fear, and he flew up the ratlines like a reefer.