Sharp’s fist,—it was like a flesh and blood sledge hammer,—shot out full for Ned’s jaw. With a dexterity born of long practice in wholesome boxing bouts, which are encouraged in the navy, the young man-o’-war’s-man put up a swift guard, and Sharp’s blow was harmlessly diverted. Almost before Ned had completed this maneuver, he had faced round on the foe that attacked him from the rear. It was the fat Chinaman. He wielded a lacquered stool—a formidable weapon. But it was destined to be turned upon himself. Ned, with a quick jerk, had it out of his hands just as the greasy Oriental raised it for a smashing blow. Then, with a quick outward movement of his foot, he caught it between the Chinaman’s legs and sent him sprawling in a heap in a corner.[40] The Mongolian, though not hurt, deemed it more prudent to remain still.
Ned was given no time to draw breath. Manners was upon him like a wildcat the next instant, and Ned had his hands full. Sharp was puffy and out of training. His muscles, though ponderous, were flabby, and his breath short. Already he was panting. But Manners offered a more serious problem. He was young, strongly thewed and in fairly good condition. The young gunner’s mate was prepared for him, though, and he managed to land two terrific body blows before Manners could use his fists effectively.
Not an instant did Ned lose in following up the brief temporary advantage he had before Sharp joined in the assault. He grabbed Manners in an iron grip, and as Sharp, bellowing furiously, charged down like a wild bull, his arms going like the sails of a windmill,—he was too furious to employ science in his attack,—Ned was all ready for him.
[41]
His plan had been formed in a jiffy. It was simple but hugely effective. He utilized Manners, whom he held at arm’s length by the scruff of the neck, as a human battering ram.
As Sharp rushed in, Ned, exerting the full force of his steel-true muscles, swung Manners with all the energy he possessed against the infuriated sailor. The force of the collision took the breath out of Sharp, and Ned was upon him in an instant. Seizing each of the recalcitrant stragglers by the back of the neck, he banged them together till they howled for mercy.
“Well, are you ready to come along now?” demanded Ned sharply.
“All right. We’ll go,” panted Sharp, “but I’ll get even on you, Strong, if it takes me till the last day I live.”
Manners merely nodded sullenly, but it was easy to see that the fight was out of him as completely as it had evaporated from Sharp under Ned’s necessarily vigorous treatment. Ned was[42] the last lad in the world to needlessly seek trouble. But he had taken good care to be prepared to meet it if it came to him. This is the spirit that is properly encouraged in the navy,—not a desire to bully or seek excuses for trouble, but to have a well-trained body and mind, prepared if trouble does come to meet it, in a manly fashion and without loss of dignity or sacrifice of the principles for which our navy stands.
“I’ll get even, I say!” bellowed Sharp as Ned, ignoring the Chinaman who still lay flat eying him out of his squinty eyes, marched his two tamed termagants to the door.
“You’re talking foolishly, Sharp,” rejoined Ned, calmly. “I gave you your chance. You wouldn’t take it. Now you are simply paying the penalty of your own stubbornness.”
Still muttering threats, Sharp and Manners were marched up the steps. As the Dreadnought Boy appeared with the pair that he had captured single-handed, the discipline of his little squad gave way to exclamations of amazement.
[43]
“Crickey,” exclaimed a sailor in an audible whisper, “Gunner’s-Mate Strong must be a regular man-eater! Sharp is known as a bully and Manners is no infant.”
“Judging by the looks, Strong is the daddy of them both,” grinned the man next to him, and a low laugh ran along the line.
“Bully for you, Ned!” burst out Herc.
“Silence,” ordered Ned sternly.
Then, marching his men up to the patrol, he gave his next order to his abashed followers.
“Armstrong, you and Peters take these fellows down to the launch and tell them there that they are under arrest. I shall hold you responsible for their safe delivery. As soon as you have done this, hurry back. You’ll find us somewhere along this street or you can easily locate us by inquiry.”
He turned to his two sullen-faced, surly prisoners.
“Now, men, you realize that you are prisoners.[44] You’d better go peaceably or you may make a long stay in the brig with stoppage of pay and liberty. I’m going to spare you the ignominy of handcuffs. I think you’ve suffered enough.”
“Well, I should remark! Look at Sharp’s eye,” sputtered the irrepressible Herc.
“Taylor, if I hear any more from you, you will be ordered back to the steamer,” said Ned curtly.
When on duty, Ned recognized no friendships. A breach of discipline such as Herc’s was just as much of an offense as if any other man had committed it.
“Right face! Twos! Forward march!” ordered Ned. The eight remaining men of his force swung into the formation indicated with military precision, and off they marched once more through the unsavory Chinese quarter. Coming up the street on the other side, Ned espied a man from the New Hampshire. He was a respectable-looking fellow and was plainly in the quarter buying curios to send back home.[45] His arms were full of purchases, most of them paid for at exorbitant rates, for the Chinese merchant swindles a sailor without compunction.
“Ahoy, shipmate!” hailed Ned. “We’re a picket sent out to round up the stragglers. Seen any of our fellows?”
“Oh, you’re from the Manhattan, ain’t you?”
“Yes. I thought you might have seen some of our men.”
“I sure have,” grinned the other. “I gave them a wide berth, too. One of them told me he could lick anybody aboard the New Hampshire. I might have tackled him but he had too many of his friends with him, so I made him a polite reply and vamoosed.”
“Where did all this happen?”
“Right down the street there. There’s a German runs the place. I wouldn’t go in it for two months’ pay.”
“Bad place, eh?”
“’Bout the worst there is in ’Frisco, a shipmate told me.”
[46]
“Well, I’ll soon find out.”
“Jumping top-masts, you ain’t goin’ in there, shipmate?”
“I certainly am. Why not?”
The other shook his head ominously.
“Well, the chances are about ten to one on your getting back to your ship! They won’t do a thing to you!”
“I’m not so sure about that. The roughest of characters must be taught to respect our uniform, and I’m going to see that they do it.”
Ned’s chin came forward and his lips compressed in what his shipmates called “Strong’s fighting look.”
“If you’re determined to go in, then, let me give you a bit of advice. I hope you won’t be too proud to accept it.”
“Of course not,” said Ned with a smile. “This sort of work is new to me, but I mean to do the best I can at it, and I can’t carry it out if I allow myself to be scared out of these low resorts.”
[47]
“That’s the talk for a man-o’-war’s-man,” said the other approvingly. “Well, my advice is just this: load up before you go in there,—that’s all.”
“Thank you, very much,” rejoined Ned. “My men are all armed and their revolvers are loaded.”
“Well, so long, good luck.”
“So long, shipmate. Forward march!” And once more the little detachment swung off down the street.
They marched on till they reached the place that the sailor from the New Hampshire had pointed out. It bore a sign in front: “The Fair Wind.”
“Humph,” thought Ned as he looked at the building, a dingy, three-storied brick structure in very bad repair. “‘The Fair Wind,’ eh? I think it’s a very bad wind that blows any foolish sailor in here.”
After his preliminary survey he turned to his detachment.
[48]
“I want you men to wait out here,” he said. “You understand?”
“But, Ned——” burst out Herc.
A look from the young commander of the picket stopped the red-headed youth’s outburst of protest. But Simpson, an elderly sailor of excellent character and long service, spoke up respectfully.
“Hadn’t you better take a couple of us along, sir?”
“No, that’s not part of my plan,” rejoined Ned. “A general entry of armed blue-jackets might be only a signal for trouble and that’s just what we want to avoid. Often an appeal to a man’s reason is more effective than force.”
“Very well, sir. We’ll hold ourselves in readiness, though.”
“I want you to do just that. If I give two sharp, short blasts on my whistle, come—and come on the jump. Otherwise, don’t move. Whatever you do, keep your heads. Remain cool,[49] and under no circumstances draw your fire-arms. If it comes to a tussle, we’ve got our fists.”
Ned advanced to the swinging doors of the place, pushed them open and vanished. The anxious eyes of his squad followed him.
“I’ve a notion we’ll hear them two whistles in a jiffy,” remarked a man standing next to Herc.
“Well, if you do you’ll know that Ned is really up a tree,” responded Herc. “He’s not the sort that cries ‘wolf’ unless there’s real trouble bearing down on him.”