CHAPTER VII. MIDSHIPMAN KENWORTH.

It had all happened back early in the naval careers of young Strong and his chum Taylor. Kenworth, a sprig just out of Annapolis, had come to the Manhattan with an idea not uncommon among young gentlemen just out of the Academy, that next to the captain he was probably the most important person on the ship.

To strengthen him in this belief, he had influential relatives who had promised to smooth out his path in life for him. Despite this fact, though, Kenworth was still a midshipman. Why was this, when many of his own class had passed him?

Possibly the incident which Ned and Herc had such good cause to recollect will throw a sidelight on Mr. Kenworth's character that may serve to explain this condition.

[Pg 59]

It was one night when the wind was blowing "great guns." Ned and Herc, the former then a coxswain, were part of a crew sent to bring some young officers off to the ship from Guantanamo harbor. As it happened, the young officers were all middies and, by right of length of service, Kenworth outranked them.

He was quarrelsome and inclined to be obstreperous when he came on board. He began by abusing Ned, who had incurred Kenworth's ill-will by his sturdy independence and the steady command of his temper, even under the fledgling officer's insults and slurs.

The boat put off with a sea running that threatened momentarily to swamp her. It required the whole strength of Ned's arm to keep the craft, which was deeply loaded, headed into the seas in such a way as to insure safety.

"Let her off a point there, you," ordered Kenworth, when they had proceeded a short distance.

"It will hardly be safe, sir," rejoined Ned.

[Pg 60]

"Hang your impudence," cried young Kenworth; "do what I tell you, do you hear?"

"Very well, sir," and sorely against his will Ned did let the boat's head swing a trifle.

The instant result was what he had anticipated. The crest of a sea broke on them, drenching Kenworth to the skin. He flew into a frenzy of rage.

"You clumsy, incompetent nincompoop," he sputtered, "I'll have you up at the mast for that."

"I obeyed your orders, sir," rejoined Ned simply, knowing there was nothing to be gained by getting into an argument with an officer.

"Don't answer me, sir!" howled Kenworth. "Confound your impudence!"

"Oh, look here, Kenworth," remonstrated another midshipman. "It wasn't his fault. He told you it wouldn't do and you insisted."

"And got jolly well wet for your pains," came from one of the men at the oars in a low voice intended only for his mate's ears.

[Pg 61]

But Kenworth heard him, heard, too, the smothered laugh from the men, none of whom bore him any liking, his ways having made him the most unpopular officer on the ship.

"How dare you make such a remark to me, sir?" he demanded of Ned, choosing in his anger to make a victim of the man he disliked most.

"I said nothing, sir," rejoined Ned.

"That's right; he didn't utter a word," came from another midshipman.

"He'll sing a different tune at the mast to-morrow, insolent waterfront scum," gritted out Kenworth.

He said no more, but the next day the word was passed forward by the sergeant-at-arms for Ned to appear "at the mast," the man-o'-war tribunal where the captain deals out justice. Luckily Ned had no difficulty in clearing himself, thanks to friendly witnesses, and Kenworth was privately reprimanded by the captain for bringing a trumped-up charge against an enlisted man.

[Pg 62]

From that day on, Kenworth had nourished such a hatred of Ned as only a mean nature like his could cherish. He never, while he remained on the Manhattan, lost a chance to "work him up," as it is called. On one occasion, he went so far as to order Ned to count the sails of every ship in the harbor of Hong Kong and report their number to him.

Ned stood at the rail with a grave face for an hour enjoying the scenery, and then, stepping up to Kenworth, who was swelling with importance as officer of the deck, he saluted with a quiet smile.

"Well, did you do what I told you?" blustered Kenworth.

"Yes, sir; there are just three thousand nine hundred and ninety-five," replied Ned with great gravity.

Kenworth looked sharply at him.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I counted them, sir," was the reply. "You[Pg 63] can check up my count if you like, sir; you'll find it correct."

As Ned saluted and turned away, he heard a burst of laughter at Kenworth's expense from some Jackies who had heard the little dialogue, and who discreetly vanished before the arrogant middie's wrath could descend on them. Soon after this Kenworth had left the Manhattan and Ned lost all track of him; not, indeed, that he felt any great interest in the matter.

And now, by a strange quip of circumstance, they had come face to face once more in the wardroom of the little gunboat. But now their positions were reversed. Ned was in command, Herc was his second in authority, with Kenworth, although he shaved daily and boasted a blue chin, still a midshipman.

"I'm very glad to meet Mr. Kenworth again," he said, when he had recovered his self-possession; "I recollect him on the Manhattan very well indeed."

[Pg 64]

Kenworth mumbled something about duty aft and hurried off. Ensign Summerville saw that there was an embarrassing situation in the air and hastened to suggest that they go on deck, where he would have the crew mustered and formally turn over the command of the Seneca to Ned.

The crew was piped to quarters and the ensign handed Ned a complete roster of the men. The shrill sounds of the bos'un's whistles filled the air, reminding Ned and Herc of the days when a response was part of their duty.

The inspection did not last long. It was actually more a ceremony of introduction. When it was over, the ensign tarried to help Ned in working out his course into the Sound.

"I would suggest that Mr. Kenworth take the ship out to deep water, as he knows the channels hereabouts thoroughly," said the ensign, as he bade good-by to the new commander of the Seneca.

[Pg 65]

"Mr. Kenworth, you will take the bridge, then," said Ned.

Kenworth saluted and hurried off to take his post. But as he did so, he grinned to himself.

"Good luck!" he exclaimed. "I think I see a chance to take the wind out of your sails before very long, you beggar on horseback, you forecastle Jack on the quarter deck! If I don't fix you and your ambitions and double spike 'em before this cruise is over, my name isn't Raymond Kenworth."

Swords were removed and sent below as soon as Ensign Summerville was over the side.

While waiting for the gig to return, Ned and Herc lingered over the charts and gave a few necessary orders.

"Well, Ned," confided Herc in a lull, "this is actually real after all."

"No doubt of that, old boy. I'm crazy to get under way and look at my orders. Who knows what they may contain and what lies before us?"

[Pg 66]

What, indeed, did the future hold for these two ambitious young officers of Uncle Sam's? They were destined to learn ere long. Over the horizon of that day of life lay new experiences to be met, new problems and dangers to be faced like officers and gentlemen and true Americans.