Whistling, as he bent over, Sam Truax caught up a long, slender steel bar.  With this he stepped forward, intent upon his next wicked step.

“Gracious!  The scoundrel is going to run that bar in between the moving parts of the engine and bring about a break-down!” quivered Hal.

Sam Truax stood watching for his chance to thrust the steel bar in just where it would inflict the most damage.  Then raising the bar quickly, he poised for the blow.

“Stop that, you infernal sneak!” roared Jack Benson, bounding into the engine room.

CHAPTER XVI

BRAVING NOTHING BUT A SNEAK

“You—­here?” hissed Truax, wheeling about.

He had not had time to make the thrust with the steel bar.

Instead, as he wheeled, he raised it above his head, drawing back in an attitude of guard.

As he did so, a vile oath escaped Truax’s lips.

“Put that bar down!” commanded Jack Benson, standing unflinchingly before the angry rascal.

“I’ll put it down on your head, if you don’t get out of here!” snarled the wretch.

“Put it down, and consider yourself off duty here, for good and all,” insisted Jack.

“Are you going to get out of here, or shall I brain you?” screamed Truax, his face working in the height of his passion.

“Neither,” retorted Captain Jack, coolly.  “I command here, and you know.  Put that bar down, and leave the engine room.”

“Come and take the bar from me—­if you dare!” taunted the fellow, a more wicked gleam flashing in his eyes.

“Hal!” called Jack, sharply.

“Aye!”

“Call two or three of the cadets down here.  Don’t make any noise about it.”

This order was called without Benson’s turning his head.  He still stood facing the sneak while Hal sped away.

“Now, I’ve got you alone!” gloated Truax.  “I’ll finish you!”

A scornful smile curled Jack’s lips as he gazed steadily back at his foe.

“Truax, you’re a coward, as well as a sneak.”

“I am—­eh?”

With another nasty oath Truax stepped quickly forward, the steel bar upraised.

He took but one step, however, for Captain Jack Benson had not retreated an inch.

Nor did Jack have his hands up in an attitude of guard.

“Are you going to put that bar down, Truax?” the young skipper demanded, in a voice that betrayed not a tremor.

“No.”

“Then you’ll have to make good in a moment, for we’re going to attack you.”

“Bah!  I can stave in two or three heads before any number of you could stop me,” sneered the fellow, in an ugly voice.

“You could, but you won’t dare.”

“I won’t?”

“Not you!”

At that instant rapid steps were heard.  Hal Hastings returned with three of the midshipmen, behind them Williamson trying to crowd his way into the scene.