Poor Roy! He had come back expecting a warm welcome from the captain and had been greeted with a reprimand. He backed out of the captain’s room, and hot tears welled to his eyes despite his effort to suppress them. He believed that he had come to understand his captain. He believed that his roughness was but a mask for a great heart. But it was evident he was wrong. The captain had no heart. The captain cared nothing for him. The captain still refused to change his mind about wireless. And that meant that when the ship got back to New York Roy would pack his bag and say farewell to her forever. He had done his best to win recognition and failed. His errors were those of ignorance and inexperience, not wilful wrongs. He had tried so hard to help save the Empress. Now he was reprimanded for what he had done.

Suddenly a new thought came into Roy’s mind. “He said that I left him in difficulties. He said that I left him in difficulties,” repeated Roy to himself. “That means that I was useful to him and that he missed my help. I see that it was wrong to leave my post. Others could row the boat, but no one else could send wireless messages. But since the two ships are safe, I’m glad I went. I’m glad something made the old dragon realize that wireless is worth something.”

The purser and the first mate greeted Roy so warmly that it made him forget his disappointment at the captain’s cold reception. In Mr. Robbins and Mr. Young, at least, he had two firm friends. So long as he lived, he would never forget them.

He went to his room and took off his torn and stained uniform. “I ought to get another,” he muttered, “but I won’t. After I reach New York I’ll probably never need a uniform.”

He dressed himself in the old suit he had worn the day he came to New York. That was only three months previously, but Roy had seen so much and gone through so much that it seemed like ages. What Roy did not appreciate was how he had grown during those three months—not in body, but in mind and character. The stern discipline of his captain had held him so rigidly to his duty that it had become second nature to do his duty. He had developed those very qualities that his captain most desired in his subordinates, but apparently could not see in Roy.

After a while Roy went down on the lower deck, where he heard the sound of hammers and saws. Rails had been carried away, bulwarks smashed, and many minor injuries done to the ship. But these could be readily repaired and carpenters were working busily to remedy the trouble. Meantime, the cargo was shooting into the hold as fast as ever. When he had fully inspected the Lycoming, Roy went over to the Empress. She was battered pretty badly. Roy went aboard and made the acquaintance of Stimson, the wireless man. The latter greeted him with the utmost cordiality and introduced him to the ship’s officers, from the captain down. All expressed their gratitude to Roy for the part he had had in their rescue. So Roy went back to the Lycoming much happier in mind than he had been when he left her.

Twenty-four hours later the Lycoming steamed out of the harbor. Five days later still she lay at her dock in New York. It was Roy’s last day aboard of her, he supposed, and he was depressed and sick at heart. He had become fond of the ship and her crew. He had even come to love his commander, though not in the way he loved the purser. Just now he felt very hard toward Captain Lansford. He expected the new wireless man would come aboard in a few hours. Before he came, Roy wished to say good-bye to his friends, so that he could leave promptly. He started for the purser’s office. On the way, he passed a young man who inquired for the captain. Roy directed him to the captain’s quarters, then turned away. He heard the door open and the man say, “Captain Lansford, I’m the new wireless man. The Marconi people instructed me to report to you for duty.”

“New wireless man!” Roy heard the captain roar, and though he did not mean to eavesdrop, he stood as though rooted to the deck. “New wireless man!” cried the captain. “What do I want of a new wireless man? I’ve got the best wireless man afloat. Go back and tell ’em so.”

“But I understood that you wanted to make a change—that your present operator is too young.”

“You did, eh? Well, he is a bit young, but I can trust him absolutely. And he’s got more brains than your whole outfit put together. It’ll be a cold day when I go to sea without him. Good-day, sir.”

The surprised Marconi man turned about and made for the pier. Roy fled to the wireless house. His heart was beating wildly. His whole soul was singing. He had made good. The captain wanted him to stay. The captain did like him, despite his rough manner. His jubilation was so great he could hardly sit still.

Presently his brow puckered. How was he to get the captain to tell him that he was to stay? An idea came to Roy. He jumped to his feet and ran down to the captain’s cabin.

“Come in,” said a gruff voice, in answer to his knock.

“I’ve come to say good-bye, sir,” said Roy. “You know my three months are up. I am sorry, sir, for I should like to stay on the Lycoming. Good-bye, sir.”

The captain jumped to his feet. “Who told you to leave the ship?” he roared.

“No one now, sir, but when I came aboard you said I was to stay three months. The time is up. I supposed you wanted me to leave.”

“I don’t. That is, if I’ve got to have a wireless man aboard you might as well stay. I don’t want to have to break another one in. You are not relieved from duty. Go to your quarters, sir.”

Roy went back to the wireless house. The captain’s gruff words could not still the song that his heart was singing. He had won. He had made good. His captain liked him, perhaps loved him—in his strange way. He thanked his lucky stars that he had been an eavesdropper. Now he knew the truth about the captain. The skipper of the Rotarian had told the truth. The rough manner was only a mask to cover a great heart. All Roy’s pent-up affection went out to this commander. He understood him now. Like the first mate and the purser, he felt a genuine affection for his captain. It had taken a long time to see beneath the surface, but nothing could now blind his eyes. He understood his commander. And, best of all, he had made good.

“Well,” he sighed joyfully, “I guess I’ll need a new uniform after all.”