"Advance and give the word." "Give the word!" exclaimed Christy.

"I have no word to give." "Then you can't come on board," replied Sampson dogmatically.
"I am Christy Passford, and I have not heard about any word," protested the midshipman.
"You can't pour molasses down my back again," replied Sampson, with a self-satisfied air.
"Don't be a fool, Sampson," added Christy, as he climbed upon the steps, the lower part of which had been hoisted up.
"I have been a fool once, and I don't mean to be again," replied the sentinel.

"On deck, there! Bring a lantern out of the engine-room!" "Don't bring a lantern in sight!" protested Christy impatiently.
"What's the row there, Sampson ?" called Paul Vapoor, mounting the rail, and looking through the darkness at the steps, down which the vigilant sentinel had descended more than half way to the water.
"This fellow says he is Christy Passford; and I don't know whether it is Christy or not," replied Sampson.
"Is that you, Christy ?" asked Paul.
"Of course it is," replied the middy.

"We are wasting time." "He hasn't the word," added the sentinel.
"Pass him, Sampson; he is all right," said the engineer; and Christy rushed up the steps, and leaped down upon the deck of the steamer.
"I gave out a word for all who had to leave the ship for any purpose during the evening," Paul explained.
"Never mind that now," interposed the midshipman in command.

"Have you plenty of steam on ?" "Enough to give her fifteen knots," replied the engineer.