“Whoop! here he is!” shouted the former. “Up with him, fellows.”
Clif made an effort to escape, but he was seized and borne in triumph, wet as he was, about the deck.
At the procession passed the mainmast, the captain, who had been smilingly watching the scene with the other officers, stepped forward. Clif was immediately lowered to the deck.
“Mr. Faraday,” said the commander, “an act such as yours deserves all praise. I will mention you in my reports, and will also keep an eye on you in the future. As for that little trouble we will forget it. But I may as well add that it would be better for you and Mr. Gote to obey the rules as you find them. That will do.”
Clif bowed and went forward with the other cadets. He still felt, however, that he was laboring under an unjust cloud.
As he reached the gun deck hatch the apothecary came up and said as he hurried aft:
“Your friend has just recovered consciousness, Mr. Faraday. The surgeon says he’ll be all right in a day of two.”
“Thank God for that!” was Clif’s heartfelt comment. “Poor little chap! He has suffered enough for what he did.”
The words were overheard by Joy. The latter touched him on the shoulder and whispered: