swered Dan in a low voice.

"That's the talk!"

"May I ask who the man is who will act as coxswain of the racing gig in
to-morrow's race, sir?"

"Yes, you may. You will be surprised when I tell you. The man who is
going to run the 'Long Island's' boat is named Daniel Davis."

"Da--Da--I--I am to be coxswain to-morrow?" gasped the boy.

"Yes, you, Dan. And you're going to do yourself and every man on this
great ship proud."

Dan sat down in a chair rather suddenly. His face was pale and his
eyes seemed larger than usual.

"I--I am to race the crew?"

"You are to race the crew. I have asked that you be released from duty
to-day. Go off somewhere by yourself and think it over. Get your
balance; then come back here and we will talk it over."

Dan walked out of the sick bay without a word. His emotions were so
great that he could not talk.

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

The jackies of the battleship set up a great cheer.

Coxswain Davis and the eleven men of his racing crew were lined up on
the quarterdeck of the "Long Island." On the decks of a dozen other
ships in the bay a similar spectacle might have been seen.

The great race for the silver cup was about to be run. But, now that
Joe Harper was unable to guide the boat of the "Long Island," the other
ships feared none save the racing crew of the "Georgia."

"Never mind if you don't win, Dynamite. You've got the pluck; you've
got the sand. It won't be your fault. But make 'em hump. Make 'em
work for what they get," shouted a jackie.

Dan smiled faintly. There was little color in his face, but no one was
able to find a trace of nervousness there.

"If that boy had the experience, I should expect to see him win,"
confided an officer to his companion.

"I don't know. This putting green men in a racing boat is bad
business. I hear he has put his friend Sam Hickey in as stroke oar."

"Yes."

The officer shook his head.

"All aboard," commanded Dan. The boy had received detailed
instructions from Joe Harper; yet, for all of that, all depended upon
Dan and his crew. No one could coach them to the winning point from a
sick bed.

The men took their places in the gig. A gun was fired from the
flagship warning the crews to start for the stake boat. As they pulled
away the sailors lined the side of the battleship, cheering until they
could cheer no more. Something in the quiet determination of Dan Davis
had filled them with hope.