a pair of white kid gloves
when I go ashore. Request-men?"

His Clerk placed a book upon the desk open at a list of names. The
Captain ran down them with a pencil.

"Badges, all entitled? . . . Stop allotment--who does he allot to?
Mother? . . . Restoration to first class for leave. . . . To be rated
Leading Seaman--Jones. Jones? Oh, yes, I know: youngster in the
quarter-deck division with a broken nose. The Commander spoke to me
about him." The pencil slowly descended to the bottom of the page,
ticking off each man's request as it was gone into and explained. He
stopped at the last one. "'To see Captain about private affairs.'
What's his trouble?"

"I don't know, sir. He put in his request to see you through the
Master-at-Arms. He didn't say what it was about."

The Captain closed the book. "All seamen, eh? No Marine request-men?"

"No, sir."

"Right. I'll see 'em at eleven." The Clerk gathered the papers
together and departed. As he went out there was a tap at the door.
The Captain frowned. The tap was repeated.

"Don't knock," he called out. "If you've got anything to report, come
in and report it."

The Chief Yeoman of Signals entered with an embarrassed air. He was
new to the ship, and, as everyone knows, all captains have their little
peculiarities. Here he was up against one right away. He'd never had
much luck.

"I don't want anyone to knock when they come into my cabin on duty.
I'm not a young woman in her boudoir."

"Aye, aye, sir," said the Chief Yeoman. "Signal log, sir."

* * * * *

"Don't forget now," counselled the Master-at-Arms to the request-men
fallen in on the starboard side of the quarter-deck. "When your names
is called out, step smartly up to the table, an' keep your caps on.
You salutes when you steps up to the table an' when you leaves it."

The request-men, who had heard all this a good many times before,
sucked their teeth in acquiescence.

The Captain was walking up and down the other side of the deck talking
to the Commander. They turned together and came towards the table.
The Captain's Clerk opened the request-book and laid it before the
Captain.

"'Erbert Reynolds," intoned the Master-at-Arms in a stentorian voice.
"Able seaman. Requests award of first Good Conduct Badge."

The Captain put his finger on the first name at the top of the page,
glanced keenly at the applicant, and nodded. "Granted."

"Granted," echo