Discipline is brought to an excellent state of perfection on all warships¹ as a rule, and the practice cruiser was no exception.  
Naval² officers are trained to exercise instant discretion³ in time of danger, and it is considered a sign of incompetency⁴ if one should lose his wits under such circumstances.
 
Lieutenant⁵ Watson, the executive officer of the Monongahela, aroused from a sound sleep by the indescribable pandemonium⁶, lost no time in heedless inquiries⁷, but rushed on deck clad only in his nightclothes.
 
By the time he had cleared the companion ladder the officer of the watch and the captain of the ship were thundering orders right and left.
 
Under their instructions the old Monongahela was again before the wind, and an immediate⁸ examination of damages being made.
 
But in the midst of it all, over on the port side of the main deck, Trolley⁹, excited and happy, was dancing about Clif, and shouting half in Japanese and half in English:
 
“You right, you right! Hurray! Hiko boto, cli jara. You see ship after all. Hurray! You bully¹⁰ boy. No sleep, but see ship all the time. You are great peach. Hurray!”
 
“I knew he was right all the time,” exclaimed Toggles.
 
“So did I,” chimed in little Nanny.
 
“The first luff was evidently of a different opinion,” said Clif, grimly. “But what can be the matter aboard that ship, and what is she?”
 
“There is something wrong on board,” spoke¹² up Joy. “Those screams were horrible. My blood is running cold. Yet—look! there she is again!”
 
He pointed¹³ excitedly to leeward¹⁴, where, dimly visible through the lightening mist, was the peculiar¹⁵ craft with which the Monongahela had just been in collision.
 
She lurched and pitched and rolled with the wild irresponsible motion of a vessel¹⁶ at the mercy of the waves. The dawn was not far enough advanced to enable those on board the practice ship to distinguish more than vague outlines.
 
Every glass on board was directed toward the strange craft as soon as it was ascertained¹⁷ that little damage had been done the Monongahela by the collision, but nothing indicating the presence of human beings on board could be seen.
 
Clif and his friends were wild with curiosity, but not more so than their shipmates. The peculiar experiences of the night, the sighting and sudden disappearance¹⁸ of the stranger, the collision, and above all those weird¹⁹, half-human cries, had created intense interest.
 
The captain, Lieutenant Watson and other officers were gathered in the gangway near where the carpenter and his assistants were making hasty repairs.
 
The gale²⁰ was giving promise of lessening²¹. The wind had died down with the coming of the sun, but the seas were still running high. Nothing had been done to increase the spread of canvas, and the old frigate²² lurched along at a reduced speed.
 
“I would give a great deal to learn what ship that is, and the meaning of those horrible cries,” said Captain Brookes, gravely. “There’s some mystery about it.”
 
“She looks like an old-time lightship,” spoke up the executive officer, working his spyglass.
 
“Hardly of this century though,” remarked the surgeon, who was a student of naval architecture from choice. “See! the mist is clearing now. The sun is shining on her. By Jove, what a queer-looking craft she is.”
 
“I’ve a notion,” began the captain, reflectively.
 
Standing²³ at a respectful distance, but within earshot, were Clif and his companions. They edged eagerly toward the group of officers, and Faraday’s intelligent face lighted up with excitement and keen anticipation²⁴.
 
“He’s going to send a boat,” he whispered to Trolley. “If he does I’ll be one of the crew or break a leg.”
 
“Me, too,” chattered²⁵ the Japanese youth. “I no miss that for——”
 
“I have a notion, gentlemen,” repeated the captain, “to send over there and investigate.”
 
“It’s our duty, sir,” said Lieutenant Watson, emphatically. “If you say the word, sir, I will take a boat now.”
 
“Any room for me?” asked th............