answered the boatswain's mate, patting the
gig affectionately. "We shall be working over this little craft for
the next few weeks on every possible occasion."

"You do not have sliding seats?"

"Oh, no. It would not be advisable in this kind of a racing craft.
You will observe, however, that the foot rests for the men's feet are
made of old shoes. They slip their feet into these, which gives them a
great purchase. They can release their feet at any instant, should we
get upset in a heavy sea."

"Each man pulls one oar, of course?"

"One oar only," nodded the mate. "That is about all one healthy man
could sit up and accomplish. None but the strongest and pluckiest can
stand the kind of a race we run."

"How long a course do you cover?"

"Four miles. Two miles out to the stake boat and return. As I was
saying, we have lost Black and White, and there are two vacancies on
the crew at present."

"Yes, sir," answered Dan in an unusually respectful tone.

"Yes, sir," added the red-haired boy. "What about it?"

"Well, as I said, there are two vacancies," replied the mate, with a
significant smile.

There followed a pause, during which Sam walked over to the rail, gazed
off across the waters, apparently without being conscious of having
seen them at all, then slowly returning to the gig, leaned up against
it, gently smoothing the gunwale with his hand.

"It is considered a great honor to be a member of a racing crew,
especially a winning crew, boys."

"Yes, sir; I should think it would be," agreed Dan.

"How would you lads like to try out for the crew?"

"We join the racing crew?" questioned Dan, his eyes opening wide in
amazement. "W--we----"

"Yes. You and your friend may try for the places vacated by Black and
White. They will, of course, be out before the races come off, but
their punishment forfeits their right to row with us. I have been
looking you two lads over, and I am sure you have good material in you.
I know you have the pluck. You have shown that you have, both of you,
on more than one occasion. What do you say?"

"What do I say?" answered Dan with glowing countenance. "I say that,
if I could get on the racing crew, I should be the happiest boy in
Uncle Sam's Navy."

"That's me," nodded Sam in approval of his companion's sentiments. "I
knew you were up here for something. The colored gentleman is out of
the woodpile."

"Say, Dan," remarked Sam as the boatswain's mate walked