Battleship Boys at Sea; Or, Two Apprentices in Uncle Sam's Navy

by Frank Gee Patchin

  CHAPTER XVII--PROVING HIS COURAGE

  The day continued rough, and, there being no further hope of planting amine field, the work of cleaning ship was proceeded with.

  All hands forward were discussing the coming battle--the evening's fun.They knew they would have it. None, however, doubted that Kester, in aregular match, would prove too much for his young adversary, Kesterbeing the hero of so many successful battles.

  Those who had seen Dan handle the bully on the forecastle, however,predicted that the Battleship Boy would give a good account of himself,though they agreed that Kester was much the stronger man, and the moreexperienced of the two.

  As for Dan Davis, he appeared not to be troubling himself in the leastabout the coming battle. He went about his work cheerfully, ate hisusual supper and, while the smoke lamp was lighted after supper,wandered about the forecastle chatting with his shipmates happily,without once referring to the coming contest.

  At a little after seven o'clock three jackies began stretching a ropeabout a portion of the deck on the starboard side, while two others wererigging some electric lights over the spot.

  Dan paused with hands behind his back, watching the work curiously.

  "You had better get ready," suggested a tar. "The thing comes off sharpat seven bells."

  "I have nothing to get ready."

  "You want to put on your fighting togs, don't you?"

  "What fighting togs?"

  "Your trunks."

  "No. I'll box as I am. I don't have to go in like a professionalpugilist."

  "You'll be at a disadvantage, then."

  "That will be my lookout, thank you."

  Upon glancing about the lad observed that there were no officers insight. There was a reason for that, though he did not know it. Theofficers had been fully informed of what was to take place that evening,and hence discreetly kept away from the forecastle. However, there was,unknown to the others, a commissioned officer standing behind theweather cloth on the navigator's bridge.

  The particular officer was an ensign, and when the hour for the boxingmatch approached he was joined by a brother officer. They peered down onthe active scene below with keen interest. Being in a deep shadow theywere unobserved by the men on the forward deck.

  Kester had not yet made his appearance, and the jackies shook theirheads as they saw Dan strolling about, chatting and joking with ashipmate.

  "That's the fellow," said one of the ensigns to his companion, at thesame time pointing to Dan.

  "Seems pretty light to match with a man of Kester's build, doesn't he?"

  "Yes, that is what I think. The boy has a steady eye, however. He seemsa likely lad, but of course he can't win the match."

  "Wasn't he up for something the other day?"

  "No, that was his friend, Hickey. The latter got two days in the brigfor a row with this same Kester. I heard the captain saying, thisevening, that he doubted the boy's being to blame for that after all. Hehas heard something since about that affair."

  "You aren't worrying about it, are you?" laughed his companion.

  "Not particularly. I do not like to see injustice done, just the same. Ishould not be fit to be an officer if I felt otherwise. There comes theother one, now."

  "The fellow Kester?"

  "Yes."

  Bill Kester was clad in a pair of short trunks and canvas shoes, with ared handkerchief about his neck. He hopped into the ring, taking hisseat in a corner, having chosen the one that suited him best.

  A moment later the referee that the men had chosen entered the ring.

  "Davis!" he called sharply.

  There was a movement outside the ring.

  "Here," answered Dan, pausing in his conversation with a jackie.

  "Get into the ring, if you are going to."

  Dan climbed through the ropes, smiled and nodded to the referee, thenstood awkwardly twirling his white cap.

  "Take your corner."

  The lad walked over and sat down. For the first time, he observed thescowling Bill Kester in the opposite corner, and Dan's eyes took on agleam of amusement as he noted the strips of plaster on his opponent'snose, the swollen lips and discolored eyes.

  "Are you going to fight in that costume?" demanded the referee of Dan.

  "Certainly, unless there is objection."

  "I know of none. Kester, do you object to Davis's boxing with hisclothes on?"

  Kester grinned and shook his head. Two pairs of gloves were passedthrough the ropes to the referee, who examined them inside and out.

  "Want to look at these, Bill?"

  Bill did. He scrutinized them even more carefully than had the refereebefore passing them back.

  "Davis, look them over," said the referee, turning to the boy's corner.

  "You say they are all right, do you not?"

  "Of course."

  "Then why should I look at them? I am willing to take your word, Iguess."

  Nods of approval followed this announcement.

  "Put on your gloves."

  Dan threw off his jacket, tossing it outside the ropes, turned up histrousers then sat down, extending his hands for the boxing gloves.

  "The youngster either doesn't know what he is going up against, or elsehe has a lot of confidence in himself," muttered one of the officers onthe bridge.

  Both men tried their gloves by opening and closing their hands, afterwhich they sat up, glancing at the referee expectantly.

  "This is to be a fair battle, mates," began the referee. "The one whocommits a foul loses the match, and maybe he might get worse if the foulis very foul. The rounds will be three minutes each, with a minute'swait between. No striking in the clinches, but either party is free tohit his opponent in the breakaway. Do you both understand?"

  The men nodded.

  "I guess that's about all, then. Are you ready?"

  "Yes," answered Dan and Kester in chorus.

  "Shake hands and begin."

  Bill Kester bounded to the center of the ring, but Dan rosemethodically. Stepping slowly forward he extended his glove, graspingthe hand of his opponent. No sooner had the lad dropped the hand thanKester launched a terrific blow at the Battleship Boy's head. It missedby the narrowest margin. Dan felt the glove brush his cheek ever solightly, but he had instinctively thrown his head to one side as herealized that it was coming his way, thereby escaping the blow.

  He danced awkwardly back out of the way. Kester sprang after him, aimingblow after blow at the head of his slender antagonist. How they missedknocking the boy out the spectators were unable to say, but somehow thelad managed to escape being hit, though his awkwardness made them groanin sheer sympathy for him.

  "It's a shame. The boy doesn't know how to fight," cried a voice.

  "Let him alone. He's got to learn some time. One punch won't hurt him.It will do him good."

  Sam, however, shrewdly suspected the reason for his companion's poorshowing. Dan was nervous. Sam knew that it was not because of the boy'sfear of the man before him. It was rather the consciousness that so manyeyes were fixed upon him. It was a case of real stage fright.

  "I hope he gets over it before it is too late. Brace up, Dan! What's thematter with you, anyway?"

  Dan heard the voice of his chum, but it sounded far away to him. Hewould have given almost anything could he, too, have been far away atthat moment.

  Bang!

  The boy's head was suddenly jolted backwards. Dan seemed to have heardhis neck crack. He wondered if it were broken. Kester had gotten throughhis guard, but the blow had landed on Davis's forehead. The boy sprangback, now, stepping about more quickly and skillfully, though his headswam dizzily. Bill made a rush at him. Escape seemed hopeless, for Danwas standing back against the ropes.

  Dan suddenly ducked, however, under a powerful right-arm swing, anddanced to the center of the ring, at which the crowd yelled and shoutedtheir appreciation.

  "That's the way to do it. Now hand him one!"

  "Time!" called the referee.
The round was ended. The men retired totheir corners, where they were fanned and their faces bathed by theirseconds.

  "Do something this time," begged Sam. "You are not half boxing. What isthe matter with you to-night?"

  "I don't know. I guess I needed that punch. It made my head swim, but itwoke me up. I'll do better this time."

  "Give him a punch in the plexus, Bill," advised one of the latter'sseconds. "He doesn't guard himself there at all."

  "Never mind. I've got the fellow's measure," answered the bully. "Itwill all be finished up and done to a turn before we end the secondround."

  "Time!" summoned the referee.

  Kester sprang into the ring full of confidence, but Dan, to the surpriseof everyone, sat calmly in his chair. Kester hesitated, a triumphantgleam appearing in his eyes. Suddenly he made a rush at his opponent'scorner, and all at once the Battleship Boy leaped to his feet. His rightfist shot out and then his left. Both blows landed squarely on hisadversary's sore nose, bringing two plainly audible grunts from the bigman.

  Kester threw one hand to his nose. As he did so, Dan planted a swift,powerful blow, this time in his adversary's stomach. The force of itsent Bill staggering half way across the ring.

  The spectators fairly yelled themselves hoarse.

  "You're all right, Dynamite! You'll be a champion some day, when youwake up."

  But Bill was boxing again. The blows on his nose had enraged him beyondendurance. With a yell of rage, he charged his slender opponent, leadingout his right for the lad's face. The latter blocked the blow,side-stepping out of harm's way, where he stood awaiting the other man'sfurther efforts.

  "Why don't you follow him up?" shouted Sam, who, by this time, waswildly excited. His face was flushed, and his eyes were sparkling withjoy over his companion's good showing in this round.

  Dan made no effort to follow Kester up. The lad had his own ideas, andnow he appeared to be fully aware of what he was doing and what he hopedto do.

  Kester came back, sparring cautiously. He landed two light blows on theboy's shoulder, which Dan returned with right and left over the heart.He seemed purposely not to have put much force into the blows. He feltthat he had inflicted enough injury on his antagonist, and hoped heshould have to do so no more.

  The spirit of battle had taken full possession of Kester, however. Hewas determined to knock his young opponent out. He was exerting everyeffort to that end.

  All at once, in a rapid exchange of blows, the big man clinched,throwing his full weight on Dan's shoulders, with the evident intentionof tiring the boy out.

  "Break!" cried the referee.

  Kester dropped one hand to his side, the other remaining on Dan'sshoulder. Like a flash the big man's right came up with a terrific hookon the boy's jaw. It laid Dan flat on the floor some distance away.

  "Foul!" roared the crowd. "He struck in the clinch."

  "Time!" announced the referee. The three minutes were ended.

  "It's a foul. Give the fight to the boy," shouted the jackies, jumpingabout excitedly, with difficulty restraining themselves from leapinginto the ring and inflicting quick punishment on the bully who hadcommitted the foul.

  Kester had taken his corner, but when he saw the temper of thespectators he grew ill at ease.

  Dan, in the meantime, had been dragged to his own corner by Hickey, whowas now using every effort to bring his companion back to consciousness.This he soon succeeded in doing. Though Dan was dizzy and trembling, hesmiled bravely.

  "You win the fight on a foul," announced the referee.

  Davis shook his head.

  "You do not wish to claim the foul?"

  "No; I could not think of it."

  "You wish to go on with the match?"

  "Yes, unless Kester is willing to call it a draw."

  "Not much," growled the bully. "We'll fight!"

  "Good for you, Dan," whispered Sam, while the spectators were shoutingtheir approval. Even if Dan were defeated, now, the Battleship Boy hadwon the admiration and respect of his shipmates. He had established hisreputation on board the "Long Island" for all time for bravery.

  "I thought this was to be a boxing match," muttered Dan.

  "It is."

  "I call it pretty close to a prize fight. That was an awful wallop hegave me. I can feel it yet."

  The call of "time" interrupted the conversation. Once more thecontestants faced each other in the center of the ring. Dan still was abit unsteady on his feet as the result of the blow that had knocked himdown. He exhibited not the slightest indication of excitement, however,and though suffering great pain, he was cool and calm, presenting asmiling face to his adversary.

  Kester suddenly rushed him and Dan rushed Kester. They met with a bang,neither giving ground to the other for several seconds. The big man wasthe first to back away. Dan's sole object in life now appeared to be toland his eight-ounce gloves on the unfortunate nose of his antagonist.He played for the nose with all the skill and cunning that he possessed.In the meantime Bill was reaching wildly for the younger man's stomach,upon which he seemed unable to land, and getting a bang on the nosenearly every time he attempted it, much to his disgust.

  "This for Hickey--and This for Me!"]

  "We had better call it a draw now, had we not?" begged Davis during alull. "You've had enough. I don't want to hurt you more."

  "No!" bellowed Kester, enraged at the suggestion. "Not till I've put youto sleep for the rest of the night."

  "Then we had better end it right here. This for Hickey--and this for me!"

  The men said afterwards that they saw no blows struck, but that theyheard two distinct impacts. What they did see was Kester hurled clearacross the ring, after two eight-ounce gloves had landed on the verypoint of his jaw, directed by all the strength of Dan Davis'swell-trained muscles.

  Kester went clear through the ropes.

  "Catch him!" shouted Dan.

  Others had discovered the defeated bully's danger. Half a dozen tarssprang to his rescue. Already Bill Kester's head and shoulders werethrough the ship's rope railing, and in another second he would plungeheadlong into the sea.