"Dan, you're a good fellow and I'm particularly fond of you, but you wouldn't make a great general. Now, see here, Dan, if I can manage to hit that turret I'll put one of their great guns out of action. That's a tremendous gain."
"It's yerself knows best," said Dan, and he added to himself, "or ye'd prove to me ye knew best anyway."
Dan was working like a hero.
Two of his comrades at the gun had been carried below, badly wounded by some splinters from a shell.
The sight of his comrades' blood infuriated the Irishman, and it animated the other men also.
As for Young Glory, there was apparently no difference in him. He was as cool as ever.
It was his work to sight and train the gun, and each time that it was fired, anxious eyes followed the shot to see whether it would be a success.
"Bah! I'll never hit it!" cried Young Glory, in disgust, after his last unsuccessful shot. "It's the swell on the water. It's almost impossible to take aim; you can't do it with any accuracy."
"Murther!" cried Dan, "but those spalpeens can!"
As he spoke a shot had come from the enemy's ship, and it tore away one of the ship's boats, but doing no other damage. Several men had narrow escapes from the splinters of the shell. Boats are invariably a source of danger in naval fights, and it is the custom for battle ships to get rid of most of their boats before the action begins.