young Somers.

As Captain Jack ate the warm food he felt his strength coming back to him.

“Poor old Hal has been up there in the conning tower all these hours,”
muttered Captain Jack, uneasily. “He must have that cramped feeling in his
hands.”

“Humph!” retorted Eph. “Not so you could notice it much, I guess. It’s a
simpleton’s job up in the conning tower to-day. All he has to do is to
shift the wheel a little to port, or to starboard, just so as to keep the
proper interval from the ’Dad’ boat. Besides, I’ve been up there on
relief, for an hour while you slept, and Hal came down and sat with the
engines. Cheer up, Jack. No one misses you from the conning tower.”

Benson laughed, though he said, warningly:

“I reckon we’ll do as well to drop calling the gunboat the ’Dad boat’
instead of the ’parent vessel.’”

“Well, you needn’t bother at all about the conning tower to-day,” wound up
Eph, glancing at his watch. “It’s after half-past three at this moment and
I understand we’re to drop anchor about five o’clock.”

So Skipper Jack settled back with a comfortable sigh. Truth to tell, it
was pleasant not to have any immediate duty, for his head throbbed, every
now and then, and he felt dizzy when he tried to walk.

“Who could have hit me in that fashion, last night, and for what earthly
purpose?” wondered the boy. “I’ve had some enemies, in the past, but I