hort by turning to greet the arrivals.

Dinner in the ward-room was the formal meal of the day. The table,
covered with snowy damask, glittered with crystal and silver.
Silent, soft-moving little Filipinos, in their white mess suits,
glided about, serving noiselessly.

At the head of the table sat Commander Bainbridge, the executive
officer, for the captain of a battleship dines in solitary state
in his own apartments. On either side of the executive officer
sat the other officers, in two long rows, according to their rank.
On either side of the Commander were seated the officers with
rank of lieutenant commander. Next to them were the lieutenants,
senior grade. After them came the lieutenants, junior grade.
At the foot of the table was a group of ensigns, the lowest in
rank of commissioned officers of the Navy.

Course followed course, and good humor prevailed at the officers'
table. Now and then a good joke or a witty sally called forth
hearty laughter. Here and there officers, dismissing laughter for
the time being, talked of graver matters.

Danny Grin soon found time to murmur the question:

"How did you get along with your tyrant this afternoon?"

"No better," Dave answered, moodily.

"Did he rake you over the coals again?"

"Yes." Then Darrin detailed the circumstances.

"I am afraid he has it in for you, all right," muttered Danny Grin,
scowling.

"He'll report me as often as he can, I don't doubt," Dave replied.
"If he can bring me up before a general court-martial, all the
better."

"I'm sorry you're not in Trent's division," Dan sighed. "He's
a gentleman---a regular, sea-going officer."

"Sea-going" is the highest praise that can be given in Navy circles.

"If I were in Trent's division, probably you'd have fallen under
Cantor," Darrin suggested.

"That would have been all right," nodded Dalzell, cheerily. "Cantor
has no direct cause to hate me, as he has in your case. Besides,
I'd do a good many things to a mean superior that you wouldn't.
If I had to stand watch with Cantor, and he tried any queer treatment
of me, I'd find a way to make his life miserable. I believe I've
shown some skill in that line in the past."

"You surely have," Darrin nodded. "But I don't like to spring
traps for my superior officers to fall into."

"Not even in self-defence?" challenged Dalzell.

"Not even to save myself," Darrin declared. At eight bells, in
Lieutenant Cantor's absence, Darrin took