“i play plenty times in my country. i was bully boy with eyeglass. hurray! all japan girls think i good thing.”
“did they push you along?”
“he! he! you try be funny, clif. yes, they push me along. they say i good actor and know how to make laugh. say, clif, we no do one thing to other cadets when we have show. hurray! they die with what you call—a——”
“chills and fever?” suggested a lean, solemn-faced lad.
“no. it——”
“measles?”
“you quit fooling, joy, or i fracture your face. i mean the cadets die with envy.”
the group of plebes gathered about the speaker, laughed.
when quarters were over on this morning in question, the exciting news circulated throughout the ship that clif faraday, the cheekiest plebe of the lot, had boldly asked captain brookes for permission to give a minstrel show.
and the captain had actually consented.
deep was the wrath on board, and many the dire threats made that the entertainment would come to an untimely end.
clif was no fool. he knew that trouble would ensue. but he was looking for trouble.
the show was simply one link in a chain of reprisals against the common enemy—the first and third classes.
after drill the six chief conspirators gathered in their usual meeting place, the port side of the forecastle.
trolley’s remarks were laughed at, then after a period of bantering, clif proceeded to more serious work.
“we are not going to give an entertainment with the ease of an eastern and peaceful city,” he said, glancing aft at ferguson, who was in the center of an animated group of third class men. “we will find our lines laid out in troublous places, let me tell you. i prophecy that an earthquake will strike this ship around saturday night.”
“hurray!” exclaimed the irrepressible jap. “me like earthquakes. that is the way we settle our coffee in japan every morning. he! he!”
“trolley,” said joy, eying him sadly, “it is time for you to go home. when a foreigner begins to crack bad jokes he should be given his passports. as we haven’t any such papers on board, i’ll try my best to teach you the error of your ways.”
while speaking he had edged slyly toward the japanese youth. with the last word he made a spring for him, but trolley slipped under his arm and dashed across the forecastle.
standing near the railing were judson greene and chris spendly.
into the former ran trolley, the shock sending him reeling against the rail. as judson grasped at the empty air to steady himself, his cap fell overboard and was carried astern.
greene was not a very pleasant-looking youth, despite his rather handsome face, and now he seemed positively ferocious with rage.
“what do you mean, you yellow nigger?” he howled, making a pass at trolley. “how dare you ran into me like that? i’ll give you a lesson you won’t forget in a hurry.”
but he didn’t. the blow he aimed at the japanese youth inflicted no damage. trolley caught the extended arm by the wrist, and with apparently little effort, held it in midair.
“i sorry i knock your cap into water,” he said, quietly. “i get you one for it. but i no let you hit me.”
judson struggled wildly but he was simply a child in the jap’s grasp. chris spendly stepped forward to interfere, but joy confronted him with such a menacing gesture that he discreetly withdrew.
clif and the others hurried across the deck, as did a cadet officer who had espied the conflict from afar.
“what’s up?” asked clif, endeavoring to separate the two combatants.
“he knocked my——” began greene, then he added, sullenly: “none of your confounded business, clif faraday! what right have you to interfere?”
clif laughed.
“still as sweet as ever, i see, greene,” he replied, coolly. “got the same angelic temper.”
“here, what’s this row?” demanded the cadet officer, arriving breathlessly on the scene. “fighting, eh? that means the mast to-morrow morning.”
he produced a book from his blouse and read aloud as he noted:
“on board u. s. s. monongahela, at sea, june 22d. fourth class cadets, judson greene and motohiki asaki, fighting on forecastle. cadet greene without cap and evidently the aggressor.”
“i was not the aggressor!” indignantly cried judson. “that chump ran——”
“cadet greene proved insolent, and used slang,” continued the cadet officer, calmly making the entry in his book.
“guess we’d better get out of this or we’ll be marked for breathing,” muttered joy.
“if you will permit me to explain,” spoke up clif, respectfully. “i saw the whole affair. it was an accident, and——”
“cadet faraday of the fourth class interfered with me in the performance of my duties, and failed to use ‘sir’ when addressing me,” monotonously added the officer, writing away.
the plebes exchanged glances and then beat a hasty retreat to the other side of the forecastle. the senior cadet grinned to himself, and, restoring his book to its place, swaggered aft.
“well, that’s certainly one way of keeping even,” exclaimed clif, with a whistle. “did you ever see anything worse than that?”
“humph!” grunted joy. “it won’t be a circumstance to what we’ll do to those fellows next saturday night. just let them wait and see.”
“and i do no thing to judson greene some days,” said trolley, doubling his fist. “i knock him eye into last sunday. hurray!”
