around in his berth for half an hour. "I'm going on deck." And he dressed himself and went up for some air. He walked forward and leaned over the rail, watching the waves as they slipped behind the noble ship.
Tom's coming on deck had been noticed by Dan Baxter, who sat on the side of the forecastle, meditating on his troubles. As the bully saw the youth leaning over the rail, his face took on a look of bitter hatred.
"I'll teach him to laugh at me!" he muttered.
Gazing around he saw that nobody was within sight and then he arose to his feet. With a cat-like tread he came up behind Tom, who still looked at the waves, totally unconscious of danger.
Baxter's heart beat so loudly that he was afraid Tom would hear it. Again he looked around. Not a soul was near, and the gloom of the night was growing thicker.
"He'll laugh another way soon!" he muttered, and stepped closer.
His fist was raised to deliver a blow when Tom happened to straighten up and look around. He saw the form behind him and the upraised arm and leaped aside.
The blow missed its mark and Tom caught Baxter by the shoulder.
