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Dave Darrin at Vera Cruz, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 2. At The Mercy Of A Bully |
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_ CHAPTER II. AT THE MERCY OF A BULLY Their hands met, but in light clasp, without pretense of warmth. Then Darrin fell back, bringing his right hand mechanically to a salute as he mumbled: "I am Ensign Darrin, sir, and have been ordered, by the executive officer, to report to you for duty in your division." "Very good, Mr. Darrin," rejoined the lieutenant. "My division goes on watch at eight bells noon. You will report to me on the quarter deck at that time." "Very good, sir." With a quick step Lieutenant Cantor reached the curtain, holding it slightly aside and peering out into the passage-way. His face was red, but there was one portion that was redder still. "I see," Dave reflected, "that Cantor still wears the welt that I printed on his cheek last night. But it staggers me," he thought, gravely, "to find such a fellow holding an officer's commission in the Navy." Satisfied that there were no eavesdroppers near, Lieutenant Cantor stepped back, facing the young ensign, whom he looked over with an expression of mingled hate and distress. "I believe we have met before," said Cantor, with a quick, hissing indrawing of his breath. "To my very great regret, we have, sir," Darrin answered, coldly. "Last night!" "Yes, sir." "And you behaved abominably, Darrin!" "Indeed, sir?" "You interfered," Lieutenant Cantor continued, "with one of the most important affairs of my life." "Yes, sir? With one of the most shameful, I should imagine, sir." Ensign Darrin's tone was officially respectful, but his glance cold. He felt no respect for Cantor, and could see no reason why he should pretend respect. "I had a strong belief that I should see you again," Cantor continued, his gleaming eyes turned on the new ensign. "You knew me to be of the Navy, sir?" "I did not, Darrin, nor did you know me to be of the Navy. Otherwise, it is not likely that you would have behaved as you did." "If I had known you to be the fleet admiral, Mr. Cantor, my conduct could not have been different, under the circumstances." "Darrin, you are a fool!" hissed the division officer. "I am much obliged to you, sir, for your good opinion," Dave answered, in an even voice. For an instant the lieutenant frowned deeply. Then his face cleared. His glance became almost friendly as he continued: "Darrin, I think it probable that you will have a chance to repair your bad work of last night." "Sir?" "Last night you told me that you had noted the number of the taxicab in which the young woman escaped me." "I did, sir." "Perhaps you still remember that number. Indeed, I am sure that you must." "I do remember the number, sir." "What was it?" asked Cantor, eagerly. "That number, sir, so far as I am concerned," Ensign Darrin answered, tranquilly, "is a woman's secret." "It is a secret which I have a right to know," Lieutenant Cantor went on pressingly. "The number, sir, I would not dream of giving you without the permission of the young woman herself," Darrin answered, slowly. "As I do not even know her name, it is unlikely that I shall be able to secure that permission." "Darrin, it is my right to receive an answer to my question," insisted Cantor, his eyes glittering coldly. "You will have to find out from some one other than myself, then," was Dave's calm answer. "Darrin, you force me to tell you more than I really ought to tell. I am going to marry that young woman!" "Is the young woman aware of your intentions, sir?" Dave demanded, quietly. "Yes! Darrin, I tell you, I am going to marry that young woman, and it is most imperative that I should see her as early as possible. Give me the number of that taxicab, and I can find the driver and learn where he took her. Now, what are you smiling at, Darrin?" "It struck me, sir, that you should already know the address of a young woman whom you are engaged to marry." Lieutenant Cantor repressed an exclamation of impatience and bit his lips. "Of course I know her home address," he deigned to reply, "but she is not a New Yorker. Her home is at a considerable distance, and I do not know where to find her in New York. Give me that taxicab number and I shall be able to secure shore leave. By this evening I shall have found her." "You do not expect me to wish you luck in a matter like this, sir?" Ensign Darrin inquired. "I expect you to give me the number of that taxicab, and at once," replied Cantor. He did not raise his voice, but there was compelling fury in his tone. "I have already declined to do that, sir," Dave insisted. "Darrin, do you realize that I am your superior?" demanded the lieutenant. "I am aware, sir, that you are my superior officer," Darrin answered, with strong emphasis on the word "officer." "And you refuse to please me in a trifling matter?" "Pardon me, sir, but from the little that I saw and heard, I cannot believe that your discovery of her address would be regarded by the young woman as a trifling matter." "Do you persist in refusing to tell me that taxicab number?" hissed Lieutenant Cantor. "Sir, as a gentleman, I must," Dave rejoined. For a full half minute Lieutenant Cantor stared at his subordinate in speechless anger. Then, when he could command his voice somewhat, he resumed: "Oh, very good, you---you young---puppy!" Another brief interval of silence, and the lieutenant continued, in a crisp, official tone: "Mr. Darrin, go to the division bulletin board and get an accurate copy of the roster of the division. Also make a copy of our station bills. You will then report to me on the quarter deck just before eight bells, noon." "Aye, aye, sir! Any further orders?" "None!" Cantor stood there, an appealing look in his eyes, but Dave, saluting, turned on his heel and went out. "So that is the fellow who is to teach me the duties and the ideals of the service," Dave Darrin reflected, disgustedly, as he stepped briskly around to port. "A magnificent prospect ahead of me, if I must depend upon the instructions and the official favor of a bully and a scoundrel like Cantor! And he can make it hot for me, too, if he has a mind to do so! Don't I know how easy that ought to be for him? I shall have, indeed, a lot of pleasure in my service on this ship, with Cantor for my division officer!" Mindful of orders, Darrin's first act was to copy the division roster and the station bills. These he took to his room, placing them in a drawer of the desk, for future study. For the present, he wanted to get out into the open air. Though Ensign Dalzell had been directed to report on the quarter deck, he was not now there. Dave walked about by himself until Lieutenant Trent came over and spoke to him. "Dalzell is busy, I suppose, sir?" Dave inquired. "Forward and below, directing the stowage of stores," replied Trent. "Have you been detailed to a division yet, Mr. Darrin?" "Yes, sir; to Lieutenant Cantor's division." "Ah, so?" inquired Trent. He did not say more, from which Dave wondered if Trent did not like Cantor. If such were the case, then Darrin's opinion of Lieutenant Trent would run all the higher. "Cantor is a very efficient officer," Trent said, after a pause, not long enough to be construed unfavorably. Dave did not answer this, for he could think of nothing to say. "Some of our newest youngsters haven't wholly liked him," Trout went on, with a smile. "I fancy that perhaps he works them a bit too grillingly." "After four years at the Naval Academy," smiled Ensign Darrin, "it puzzles me to understand how any officer can resent grilling." "You'll find life very different on one of these big ships," Lieutenant Trout continued. "You will soon begin to realize that we are in a cramped atmosphere. With fifteen hundred officers and men abroad there is barely elbow room at any time, and sometimes not that." "This ship looks big enough to carry a small city full of people," Darrin smiled. "See here!" Trent stepped to the starboard rail, looking forward. "Just look ahead, and see the magnificent distance to the bow," continued the officer of the deck. "We call a ship 'she,' Darrin, and let me assure you, 'she' is some girl! Look at the magnificent length and breadth. Yet, when we are at sea, you will soon begin to realize how cramped the life is." After chatting a little longer with Lieutenant Trent, Ensign Darrin started forward along the decks, taking in all he could see of this huge, floating castle. Presently he returned to the quarter-deck, but Lieutenant Trent was busy with a lieutenant of the marine guard. Dave stepped inside. Almost immediately he heard a step at his side. Glancing around, Dave looked into the face of Lieutenant Cantor. "A while ago I noticed you talking with Trent," Dave's division officer remarked, in a low voice. "Yes, sir." "Did you discuss me?" "Yes, sir." "What did you say, Darrin?" "I mentioned that you were my division officer." "Did Trent say anything?" "Mr. Trent said that you were a very efficient officer." "Did you tell him anything---about---er---about last night?" "Nothing," Dave answered. "Positive about that?" insinuated Cantor. "Sir," Dave answered, "I am an officer and, I trust---a gentleman." "Then you told Trent nothing about last night?" "I have already told you, sir, that I didn't." "Nor to anyone else on this ship?" pressed the lieutenant. "I told Dalzell, last night, that I had met with a stranger who was-----" "That will do!" snapped Cantor. "Very good, sir." "Have you told Dalzell about me since coming aboard?" "I have not." "And you won't?" pressed Cantor. "On that point, sir, I decline to pledge myself," Darrin responded, with unusual stiffness. "Darrin, do you want to make an enemy?" "Mr. Cantor, I never, at any time, wish to make an enemy. I am not trying to make one of you." "I will regard that as a promise from you," returned Cantor, then moved quickly away. "It would have been better," murmured Darrin, softly, turning and regarding the moving figure, "if you had heard me out. However, Mr. Cantor, though you are not now here to hear me say it, I did not promise silence. Yet it is difficult to conceive what would make me open my mouth on the subject of last night's happening. I have never been a tale-bearer, and, much as I may despise that fellow, and the affront that he offers the Navy, in remaining in the service, I fancy his secret is safe from all---except Dalzell. Danny and I haven't yet begun to have secrets from each other." Presently Dan Dalzell, wearing his sword and pulling on his white gloves as he came, appeared, walking aft. There was time only for a smiling nod, for Dave suddenly remembered, with a start that it was time for him to report for change of watch. Hastening down the passage-way Dave hung his sword on, then hastily rummaged the suit case for a pair of white gloves that he had previously tucked in there. Hastening, he reached the deck just as the watch was being changed. With quick step Ensign Darrin took his momentary post. Then, when the old watch had gone off duty, Lieutenant Cantor turned to his subordinate with a frown. "Ensign Darrin, you made a bad beginning, sir," declared the new watch officer, crisply. "In the future, I trust you will be more mindful of the responsibility of an officer in setting his men an example in punctuality. If this occurs again, sir, I shall feel it my duty to turn in report of your negligence!" Several men of the watch and two of the marine guard hoard this rebuke administered. Dave Darrin's face flushed, then paled from the humiliation of the rebuke. Yet he had been guilty of an actual breach of discipline, minor though it was, and could not dispute Cantor's right to reprove him. "I very much regret my negligence, sir," Dave answered, saluting, but he bit his lip in the same instant for he realized how thoroughly his superior officer enjoyed the privilege of administering the rebuke. From inside Dan Dalzell heard the words. At once, on the stroke of eight bells, the mess signal was hung to the breeze. While that flag flew no one was admitted to the battleship unless he belonged on board. Then appeared a little Filipino mess servant, who asked Dave and Dan to follow him to their assigned seats. "Am I permitted to go to mess, sir?" Dave asked of Lieutenant Cantor. "Yes," was the short answer. While the signal flew the sergeant of the marine guard was in charge at the quarter-deck gang plank. There was no need of a commissioned officer there. To their delight Darrin and Dalzell found themselves assigned to seats at the table together. Lieutenant Trent stepped down, introducing the new arrivals to the officers beside whom, and opposite whom they sat. "I was sorry to hear you get that calling down," Dalzell whispered to his chum, as soon as that was possible under the cover of the conversation of others. "Why did Lieutenant Cantor seem to enjoy his privilege so much?" After a covert glance, to make sure that he was not in danger of being overheard, Darrin replied, in an undertone: "Lieutenant Cantor was the man of whom I told you last night." "Not the-----" "Yes," Dave nodded. "But it seems incredible that an officer of our Navy could be guilty of any such conduct," Dalzell gasped, his eyes large with amazement. "Are you sure?" "Didn't you notice the welt on Mr. Cantor's cheek?" Dave asked, dryly. Danny Grin nodded, then fell silent over his plate. After the meal Lieutenant Trent saw to it that both the new ensigns were introduced to such officers as they had not met already. "We can't possibly remember all their names---scores of 'em!" gasped Dan, as the two young officers stood outside the mess. "We'll learn every name and face before very long," Darrin answered. "But I mustn't stand talking," Dave went on, as he again hung his sword at his side. "I'm on duty, and can't stand another call-down." "Are you going to tell what Cantor did last night?" Dan queried. "No; and don't you tell, either!" "Small fear of my babbling _your_ business, David, little Giant!" assured Dalzell. "You are strong enough to go in and slay your own Goliath." Drawing on his white gloves, Dave Darrin stepped alertly to the quarter deck, to find himself facing the frown of Lieutenant Cantor. _ |
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