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"Jetson, that was a mean, deliberate trip," remarked Darrin, as he sprang to his feet. He spoke coolly, with a warning flash in his eyes. "Not on my part," retorted Jetson. "You thrust your leg between mine as you went down." Coach signed to referee not to renew the game for the moment. Then Lieutenant-Commander Havens and the two team captains crowded close.
The flotilla, under Lieutenant-Commander Cooke, composed of the flag-ships Estrella, Arizona, Clifton, and Calhoun, having completed the ferriage of Emory and Weitzel over Berwick Bay, was now occupied in assisting the army transports to convey Grover to his destination, besides standing ready to protect his movement and his landing with its guns.
"What's this, father?" asked the young officer. "I have had it about three weeks, but waited for your entire recovery before I gave it to you," replied the captain. "Open it." Christy did so, read it, and then in his excitement, dropped it on the floor. It was his commission as a lieutenant-commander. Christy Passford was astounded and confounded when he read the commission.
Lieutenant-Commander Phelps had gone up to Florence, at the foot of Muscle Shoals, immediately after the surrender of Fort Henry, without difficulty. An expedition up the Tennessee, to send out strong, light parties, suggested itself as the natural means of accomplishing the first step. General Halleck proposed to accomplish this by his lieutenants before taking the field in person.
Then there came to the spot a presence that could not be treated with anger. Lieutenant-Commander Havens was determined to know the truth. "Mr. Jetson, had you anything in your possession, or did you wear anything, that could cut Mr. Damn's face like that?" demanded the head coach.
The Jacob Jones, which was commanded by Lieutenant-Commander David Worth Bagley, a brother-in-law of Secretary Daniels and brother of Ensign Worth Bagley, who was killed on the torpedo-boat Winslow in the fight at Cardenas in the Spanish-American War, went down in seventeen minutes after she was struck.
Willow, and thence on into the smaller room where Lieutenant-Commander Stearns sat reading. "Oh, good evening, Willow," hailed Lieut. Stearns heartily. "Good evening, Stearns," was the almost moody reply. "Sit down and let's have a chat I'm glad to see you," urged Lieutenant-Commander Stearns. Mr. Stearns, he of the round, jovial face, gazed at his junior with twinkling eyes.
Gunner Harry R. Hood was killed by the explosion, but the remainder of the company got safely overside in rafts and boats. The submarine appeared after the sinking and took one of the survivors aboard as a prisoner. Lieutenant-Commander Bagley, with five others, landed in a small boat on the Scilly Islands while other survivors reached shore in various ways.
Dan Dalzell, as section leader in steam instruction, immediately re-formed it. "You will report in the engine-room, Mr. Dalzell, to Lieutenant-Commander Forman, who is chief engineer of this ship. He will assign you to an instructor." "Aye, aye, sir," Dan replied, saluting. "Section, right wheel march!" Dan already knew where, down in the bowels of the great battleship, to find the engine room.
"I never was able to take you er somewhat jovial views of an officer's duty, Stearns," sighed Lieutenant Willow. Nevertheless, he selected a cigar, bit off the end, lighted it and took a few whiffs, Lieutenant-Commander Stearns all the while regarding his comrade in arms with twinkling eyes.
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