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Beginning CSS Cascading Style Sheets for Web Design
Wrox Beginning Guides 2nd Edition Richard York
Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Richard York
ISBN(s): 0470096977
Edition: 2
File Details: PDF, 33.97 MB
Year: 2007
Language: english
 Beginning
CSS
Cascading Style Sheets for Web Design
Second Edition

Richard York
 Beginning
CSS
Second Edition
 Beginning
CSS
Cascading Style Sheets for Web Design
Second Edition

Richard York
Beginning CSS: Cascading Style Sheets
for Web Design, Second Edition
Published by
Wiley Publishing, Inc.
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Copyright © 2007 by Wiley Publishing, Inc., Indianapolis, Indiana
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ISBN: 978-0-470-09697-0
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
York, Richard, 1978–
Beginning CSS : cascading style sheets for Web design / Richard York. — 2nd ed.
p. cm.
Includes index.
ISBN 978-0-470-09697-0 (paper/website)
1. Web sites—Design. 2. Cascading style sheets. I. Title.
TK5105.888.Y67 2007
006.7—dc22
2007008853
Trademarks: Wiley, the Wiley logo, Wrox, the Wrox logo, Programmer to Programmer, and related trade dress are
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 To my own cousin Ryan Wood

In the words of Ryan’s favorite comedian, Dave Chappelle,

“I’m rich, bitch!”

Rest in peace, brother. We love you and we miss you.

About the Author
Richard York is a web application developer for Trilithic, Inc., a company specializing in test equipment
for the telecommunications industry. He wrote his first book, Beginning CSS: Cascading Style Sheets for
Web Design (Wrox Press), in 2004.

Richard began his web development career taking courses at Indiana University–Purdue University
Indianapolis. Since college, he has continued a self-imposed curriculum, mastering various technologies
used in web development including HTML/XHTML, CSS, JavaScript, PHP, and MySQL. An avid sup-
porter of open source software, he has written an open source webmail application for PHP PEAR and is
currently working on an open source PHP library and framework called Hierophant, which he hopes to
release in 2007.

Richard maintains a personal website at http://www.richard-york.com where you can learn more
about his professional and personal interests.
 Credits
Senior Acquisitions Editor Project Coordinator
Jim Minatel Heather Kolter

Development Editor Graphics and Production Specialists

Brian MacDonald Carrie A. Foster
Denny Hager
Technical Editor Joyce Haughey
Alexei Gorkov Alicia B. South
Ronald Terry
Technical Reviewers
Robert Searing Quality Control Technician
Marybeth Fullmer John Greenough

Copy Editor Proofreader

Mildred Sanchez Sossity R. Smith

Editorial Manager Indexer

Mary Beth Wakefield Aptara

Production Manager Anniversary Logo Design

Tim Tate Richard Pacifico

Vice President and Executive Group Publisher

Richard Swadley

Vice President and Executive Publisher

Joseph B. Wikert
 Contents

Acknowledgments xv
Introduction xvii

Part I: The Basics

Chapter 1: Introducing Cascading Style Sheets 3
Who Creates and Maintains CSS? 4
How the Internet Works 5
How CSS Came to Be 6
Browsers 8
Internet Explorer 8
The Gecko Browsers: Mozilla Firefox, Netscape, Camino 12
Safari 13
Opera 13
Writing CSS 14
Your First CSS-Enabled Document 15
Advantages of Using CSS 21
Summary 22

Chapter 2: The Essentials 25

CSS Rules 25
Selectors 26
Declarations 27
Grouping Selectors 28
CSS Comments 29
Values 31
Keywords 31
Strings 34
Length and Measurement 36
Numbers 45
The URI 51
Including CSS in a Document 52
Including an Embedded Style Sheet 53
Linking to External Style Sheets 54
Contents
Importing Style Sheets 56
Inline Styles 56
Summary 57
Exercises 58

Chapter 3: Selectors 59
Class and ID Selectors 60
Class Selectors 60
ID Selectors 63
The Universal Selector 68
Descendant Selectors 71
Direct Child Selectors 75
Next Sibling Selector 79
Attribute Selectors 82
Selection Based on the Value of an Attribute 83
Attribute Substring Selectors 87
Pseudo-Elements :first-letter and :first-line 93
Pseudo-Classes 97
Dynamic Pseudo-Classes 97
The first-child Structural Pseudo-Class 102
Summary 106
Exercises 106

Chapter 4: The Cascade and Inheritance 109

The Cascade 109
Calculating the Specificity of a Selector 112
!important Rules 118
Inheritance 121
Summary 125
Exercises 126

Part II: Properties

Chapter 5: Text Manipulation 131
The letter-spacing Property 132
The word-spacing Property 137
Indenting Paragraph Text Using text-indent 141
Aligning Text with the text-align Property 147
The text-decoration Property 150

x
 Contents
The text-transform Property 155
The white-space Property 158
Summary 164
Exercises 164

Chapter 6: Fonts 167

Specifying Fonts with the font-family Property 167
Font Families 169
Generic Font Families 171
The font-style Property 175
The font-variant Property 181
The font-weight Property 183
The font-size Property 185
Absolute Font Sizes 185
Relative Font Sizes 187
Percentage Font Sizes 189
The font Shorthand Property 194
The font Properties 194
System Fonts 200
Summary 203
Exercises 203

Chapter 7: The Box Model 205

Overview 205
Margin 208
Margin Property with Four Values 209
Margin Property with Three Values 211
Margin Property with Two Values 213
Margin Property with One Value 214
Margin Collapsing 216
Horizontally Aligning Elements with the Margin Property 220
Borders 230
border-width 230
border-style 233
border-color 236
Border Shorthand Properties 236
Padding 242
Setting Dimensions 244
width 245
height 247

xi
Contents
Auto Values for width and height 249
Percentage Measurements 255
Quirks Mode width and height in Internet Explorer 256
Minimum and Maximum Dimensions 259
Overflowing Content 271
CSS 3 overflow-x and overflow-y 273
Summary 273
Exercises 274

Chapter 8: CSS Buoyancy: Floating and Vertical Alignment 277

The float Property 277
Floating Box Model 282
The clear Property 293
Float Bugs in IE 6 298
The Peek-A-Boo Bug 298
The Guillotine Bug 300
The Three-Pixel Jog 303
The Double-Margin Bug 305
The vertical-align Property 306
Subscript and Superscript Text 307
The top, middle, and bottom Keywords 308
The text-top and text-bottom Keywords 310
Percentage and Length Value 311
Vertically Aligning the Contents of Table Cells 312
Summary 318
Exercises 319

Chapter 9: List Properties 321

The list-style-type Property 321
Styling Unordered Lists 322
Styling Ordered Lists 324
The list-style-image Property 330
The list-style-position Property 331
The list-style shorthand Property 333
Summary 337
Exercises 337

Chapter 10: Backgrounds 339

The background-color Property 339
The background-image Property 343

xii
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
was too furious to employ science in his attack,—Ned was all ready
for him.
His plan had been formed in a jiffy. It was simple but hugely
effective. He utilized Manners, whom he held at arm’s length by the
scruff of the neck, as a human battering ram.
As Sharp rushed in, Ned, exerting the full force of his steel-true
muscles, swung Manners with all the energy he possessed against
the infuriated sailor. The force of the collision took the breath out of
Sharp, and Ned was upon him in an instant. Seizing each of the
recalcitrant stragglers by the back of the neck, he banged them
together till they howled for mercy.
“Well, are you ready to come along now?” demanded Ned sharply.
“All right. We’ll go,” panted Sharp, “but I’ll get even on you, Strong,
if it takes me till the last day I live.”
Manners merely nodded sullenly, but it was easy to see that the fight
was out of him as completely as it had evaporated from Sharp under
Ned’s necessarily vigorous treatment. Ned was the last lad in the
world to needlessly seek trouble. But he had taken good care to be
prepared to meet it if it came to him. This is the spirit that is
properly encouraged in the navy,—not a desire to bully or seek
excuses for trouble, but to have a well-trained body and mind,
prepared if trouble does come to meet it, in a manly fashion and
without loss of dignity or sacrifice of the principles for which our
navy stands.
“I’ll get even, I say!” bellowed Sharp as Ned, ignoring the Chinaman
who still lay flat eying him out of his squinty eyes, marched his two
tamed termagants to the door.
“You’re talking foolishly, Sharp,” rejoined Ned, calmly. “I gave you
your chance. You wouldn’t take it. Now you are simply paying the
penalty of your own stubbornness.”
Still muttering threats, Sharp and Manners were marched up the
steps. As the Dreadnought Boy appeared with the pair that he had
captured single-handed, the discipline of his little squad gave way to
exclamations of amazement.
“Crickey,” exclaimed a sailor in an audible whisper, “Gunner’s-Mate
Strong must be a regular man-eater! Sharp is known as a bully and
Manners is no infant.”
“Judging by the looks, Strong is the daddy of them both,” grinned
the man next to him, and a low laugh ran along the line.
“Bully for you, Ned!” burst out Herc.
“Silence,” ordered Ned sternly.
Then, marching his men up to the patrol, he gave his next order to
his abashed followers.
“Armstrong, you and Peters take these fellows down to the launch
and tell them there that they are under arrest. I shall hold you
responsible for their safe delivery. As soon as you have done this,
hurry back. You’ll find us somewhere along this street or you can
easily locate us by inquiry.”
He turned to his two sullen-faced, surly prisoners.
“Now, men, you realize that you are prisoners. You’d better go
peaceably or you may make a long stay in the brig with stoppage of
pay and liberty. I’m going to spare you the ignominy of handcuffs. I
think you’ve suffered enough.”
“Well, I should remark! Look at Sharp’s eye,” sputtered the
irrepressible Herc.
“Taylor, if I hear any more from you, you will be ordered back to the
steamer,” said Ned curtly.
When on duty, Ned recognized no friendships. A breach of discipline
such as Herc’s was just as much of an offense as if any other man
had committed it.
“Right face! Twos! Forward march!” ordered Ned. The eight
remaining men of his force swung into the formation indicated with
military precision, and off they marched once more through the
unsavory Chinese quarter. Coming up the street on the other side,
Ned espied a man from the New Hampshire. He was a respectable-
looking fellow and was plainly in the quarter buying curios to send
back home. His arms were full of purchases, most of them paid for
at exorbitant rates, for the Chinese merchant swindles a sailor
without compunction.
“Ahoy, shipmate!” hailed Ned. “We’re a picket sent out to round up
the stragglers. Seen any of our fellows?”
“Oh, you’re from the Manhattan, ain’t you?”
“Yes. I thought you might have seen some of our men.”
“I sure have,” grinned the other. “I gave them a wide berth, too. One
of them told me he could lick anybody aboard the New Hampshire. I
might have tackled him but he had too many of his friends with him,
so I made him a polite reply and vamoosed.”
“Where did all this happen?”
“Right down the street there. There’s a German runs the place. I
wouldn’t go in it for two months’ pay.”
“Bad place, eh?”
“’Bout the worst there is in ’Frisco, a shipmate told me.”
“Well, I’ll soon find out.”
“Jumping top-masts, you ain’t goin’ in there, shipmate?”
“I certainly am. Why not?”
The other shook his head ominously.
“Well, the chances are about ten to one on your getting back to your
ship! They won’t do a thing to you!”
“I’m not so sure about that. The roughest of characters must be
taught to respect our uniform, and I’m going to see that they do it.”
Ned’s chin came forward and his lips compressed in what his
shipmates called “Strong’s fighting look.”
“If you’re determined to go in, then, let me give you a bit of advice.
I hope you won’t be too proud to accept it.”
“Of course not,” said Ned with a smile. “This sort of work is new to
me, but I mean to do the best I can at it, and I can’t carry it out if I
allow myself to be scared out of these low resorts.”
“That’s the talk for a man-o’-war’s-man,” said the other approvingly.
“Well, my advice is just this: load up before you go in there,—that’s
all.”
“Thank you, very much,” rejoined Ned. “My men are all armed and
their revolvers are loaded.”
“Well, so long, good luck.”
“So long, shipmate. Forward march!” And once more the little
detachment swung off down the street.
They marched on till they reached the place that the sailor from the
New Hampshire had pointed out. It bore a sign in front: “The Fair
Wind.”
“Humph,” thought Ned as he looked at the building, a dingy, three-
storied brick structure in very bad repair. “‘The Fair Wind,’ eh? I think
it’s a very bad wind that blows any foolish sailor in here.”
After his preliminary survey he turned to his detachment.
“I want you men to wait out here,” he said. “You understand?”
“But, Ned——” burst out Herc.
A look from the young commander of the picket stopped the red-
headed youth’s outburst of protest. But Simpson, an elderly sailor of
excellent character and long service, spoke up respectfully.
“Hadn’t you better take a couple of us along, sir?”
“No, that’s not part of my plan,” rejoined Ned. “A general entry of
armed blue-jackets might be only a signal for trouble and that’s just
what we want to avoid. Often an appeal to a man’s reason is more
effective than force.”
“Very well, sir. We’ll hold ourselves in readiness, though.”
“I want you to do just that. If I give two sharp, short blasts on my
whistle, come—and come on the jump. Otherwise, don’t move.
Whatever you do, keep your heads. Remain cool, and under no
circumstances draw your fire-arms. If it comes to a tussle, we’ve got
our fists.”
Ned advanced to the swinging doors of the place, pushed them open
and vanished. The anxious eyes of his squad followed him.
“I’ve a notion we’ll hear them two whistles in a jiffy,” remarked a
man standing next to Herc.
“Well, if you do you’ll know that Ned is really up a tree,” responded
Herc. “He’s not the sort that cries ‘wolf’ unless there’s real trouble
bearing down on him.”
 CHAPTER V.
“THE FAIR WIND.”

Within the doors he had so unceremoniously pushed open, Ned

found a kind of shabby office and lounging lobby, equipped with
ricketty furniture and smelling horribly of stale tobacco. The floor
was littered with paper and cigar stumps and everything was dirty to
a degree, a condition very offensive to the smart young
Dreadnought Boy. But Ned was paying not much attention to these
details. His eyes rapidly swept the room.
Behind a desk, caged off from the rest of the place, a fat, flabby-
looking German with a pair of huge yellow moustaches was engaged
on some sort of blotty bookkeeping. His big moustaches and round,
unwholesome face made him look not unlike a big walrus. On the
walls hung a few pictures of old-time clipper-ships and various other
works of art, portraying “The Mary Anne Jennings in a Sou-wester
off Ushant,” and “The American Barque Elisha J. Holmes Caught
Aback off Cape Horn.” Under glass cases were curios of different
kinds from the Seven Seas. Dust and grime lay thick on everything.
Apparently it was many moons since a broom or soap and water had
penetrated there.
The walrus-like German looked up as Ned entered, and right there
Ned saw the wisdom of his move in coming in alone. The proprietor,
as he guessed the man at the desk to be, greeted him with a nod.
“From der Manhattan, hein?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s my ship,” responded Ned, returning the nod. He saw at
once that the man was quite unsuspicious of him and thought he
was merely a foolish, weak-minded sailor out for “a good time.”
“Vell, you are velcome py der Fair Vind. Py der inside you findt
plendy of your shibmades from der Manhaddan. Dey are fine fellows,
all off dem.”
“Yes, they are fine fellows,” thought Ned to himself, but aloud he
rejoined:
“Thank you; where will I find them?”
“In der back room, my heardy. Budt say,” the walrus-like man’s eyes
narrowed and he looked at Ned searchingly, “you don’t seem like der
sort dot comes py me place regular.”
“No, it’s my first cruise,” rejoined Ned.
But the other was more used to sailors and navy usages than Ned
had bargained for.
“Your first cruise?” he grunted with growing suspicion. “Vot you do
py uniform uv cunner’s-made, den?”
“I mean it’s my first cruise to the coast,” rejoined Ned, inwardly
adding, “I’ll have to be careful. This place is every bit as bad as the
fellow from the New Hampshire said it was, and the proprietor is as
fine a specimen of a land-shark as you’d meet with in many a long
day’s cruise.”
The proprietor’s suspicions were apparently lulled by Ned’s
straightforward manner.
“Go righd aheadt, mein poy,” he said paternally and waved his fat,
pudgy hand toward a door in the rear of the dingy front office.
Ned made his way toward the door indicated and shoved it open. If
the atmosphere in the musty office outside had been bad, the air
within the room fairly made Ned gasp. It was blue and thick with
wreaths of tobacco smoke from a score of pipes and cigars. The
Dreadnought Boy blinked and then gave vent to a loud sneeze.
This drew general attention toward him.
“Shut that door, you long-shore swab!” yelled somebody out of the
blue mist.
Ned shut it and then sneezed again. Both he and Herc abhorred
tobacco in any form. They knew that the user of it cannot develop
athletically. It destroys staying power and wind, and in ordinary life
its effect is to diminish efficiency in any line of work.
He blinked and winked two or three times before he got used to the
dense, pungent fumes and the semi-twilight. Then with difficulty he
began to make out the faces of the men congregated within.
Nobody paid any attention to him and he looked about eagerly to
see if he could distinguish some naval uniforms. He was not long in
doing so. Six of the men he was in search of were in the place,
laughing and talking as if such a thing as overstaying their leave
were the lightest matter in the world.
Seated near to where Ned was standing, but with his back turned to
him, was a young sailor named Childs. He was an ordinary seaman
and usually a quiet, self-respecting fellow. But he had wandered into
bad company. On a chair opposite to the youthful sailor was seated
a well-dressed man with a hawk-like face, who was apparently trying
to impress something on the young fellow’s mind.
Ned came a little closer and listened. He knew how many traps are
set for Jack ashore, and he was convinced that the hawk-faced man
was trying to entice young Childs into one of them. It didn’t take
long to show him that he was right.
The well-dressed man was telling Childs a wonderful story about a
gold-mine that he had in the Sierras, and was trying to persuade the
young fellow to induce his companions to club their funds and buy
some shares in it. When this had been done, he said, he would have
them sent up to the fabulously rich mine, and there they could hide
till the fleet had sailed and the search for them had blown over. In
the meantime, by simply digging in the mine they would have
become almost, if not quite, millionaires.
The foolish young sailor, as Ned could see, was drinking in this
ridiculous tale with greedy attention.
“But are you sure the Navy people couldn’t locate us and get us
back on board ship?” he was asking. “You know a deserter gets a
severe dose of punishment.”
The other waved a not over-clean hand upon which, however, a
“diamond” as big as a hazelnut glittered.
“Why so timid, my lad?” he asked banteringly. “I thought all you
sailors were brave and bold and—and all that sort of thing. Why, you
could hide up at that mine for ten years if you wanted to and no one
would ever find you. But you won’t want to hide that long. When
you come out with gold galore and have your own mansion and
auto, who would ever suspect that you were a runaway sailor?
Who’d even dare to hint at such a thing?”
“That’s so,” agreed young Childs. “I haven’t got an awful lot of
money. But I could get some from my folks, I guess, and so could
some of my ship-mates.”
The eyes of the hawk-faced man glittered greedily.
“It’s a gilt-edged proposition and you can write the folks at home
so,” confided the rascal to the gullible young blue-jacket. “I don’t
mind telling you that if I hadn’t taken a personal liking to you I’d
never have let you in on it. It’s just pure unselfishness on my part,
that’s what it is. But there, I’m wealthy enough now and can afford
to be a good fellow to those I take a fancy to.”
“That’s mighty good of you,” replied poor Childs warmly. “I’ll give
you a deposit on ten shares now and I’ll write home for more.”
He reached for his wallet and the hawk-eyed man’s evil optics
glittered.
“I don’t mind telling you,” he said impressively, “that your intellect
and ability will warrant me in naming you for the Chairman of the
Board of Directors as soon as we get our company incorporated and
things going.”
Young Childs’ face fairly glowed.
“You arrange for another suit for me,” he said as he opened his
wallet, in which reposed his pay, and prepared to hand it over, “and
then I’ll speak to my ship-mates about their part in it. I guess we
can raise quite a sum. It does seem a big step, though, from a blue-
jacket to a mining magnate. I have to thank you for that. The only
thing that worries me is the chance that they may grab me before I
get to the mountains.”
“No chance. Schmidt, the boss of this place, will arrange all that.
He’s helped lots of sailors before now. Now hand over that money.”
“All right. I’m your man——”
“No, you’re not. You belong to Uncle Sam!” And Ned’s hand fell on
the young sailor’s shoulder. “Now put back your money and come
with me.”
 “No, you’re not. You belong to Uncle Sam.”—
Page 58.
Both men leaped to their feet. An angry light flashed into young
Childs’ eyes as he saw Gunner’s-Mate Strong confronting him with a
half-angry, half-pitying look on his firm, clean-cut features.
 CHAPTER VI.
A TIGHT PLACE.

“What business have you butting in?” demanded the hawk-eyed

man, pale with anger as he saw his gull being taken away from him.
“I don’t recognize you,” spoke Ned coldly. “Come, Childs, put your
money back in your wallet and be thankful I arrived in time to save
you from being plucked by a rascal.”
“I—I am not going.”
“Not going?”
“No; you see, Strong——”
“Now see here,” began the hawk-eyed man, laying a persuasive arm,
which Ned straightway shook off, upon the Dreadnought Boy’s
shoulder, “this young fellow and me is good friends—see? I’m going
to do him a good turn. I’ve offered him some stock in the Eldorado
Limited Mines and——”
“Yes,” rejoined Ned scorchingly, “limited just about describes them, I
guess.”
“But I’m a friend.”
“A what?” Ned’s eyes began to blaze dangerously.
“A friend of this lad’s. He——”
“A nice sort of friend you are,” shot out Ned witheringly. “It’s just
such land-sharks as you that get gullible young fellows like Childs
here into trouble. If it hadn’t been for me, you’d have stripped him
of his money and then left him to face the music of a court-martial. I
don’t blame him, a young, inexperienced sailor. But I haven’t words
to express my scorn of such creatures as you, who would try to
induce a lad to desert his country and the flag he has sworn to serve
under.”
“My! Quite an orator, ain’t you?” sneered the other with an evil leer.
Ned wasted no more words on him, although he fairly burned with
indignation toward the fellow. He bent all his efforts to bringing
young Childs back to his senses.
“You have been in the navy long enough to know what it means to
be branded as a deserter, Childs,” he said. “Surely you are not going
to jeopardize a promising career for the sake of such worthless
inducements as this swindler holds out.”
“Swindler!” cried Childs. “Why, he promised——”
“I know. I overheard enough to understand. A gold mine. I guess it’s
under his hat, and a precious poor one it must be, too. Come along,
Childs, join your ship-mates outside and then I’ll come back for the
rest.”
The conversation had been carried on in low tones and nobody in
the room was in the least aware of what was going forward. Ned
was wise in this.
Except for the men-o’-war’s-men present, everyone in the place bore
the stamp of “hard character” unmistakably branded on his features.
Stokers and roustabout sailors from tramp steamers, Ned adjudged
most of them to be. Ugly customers, if the worst came to the worst.
He began to be glad he had arranged to summon aid instantly if
need be.
“Don’t go with him,” cried the swindler. “It’ll be the worse for you if
you do. You’re only going to get into trouble.”
“You’ll land in trouble yourself, or I miss my guess. Childs, come on.
You’re going with me.”
The young fellow hesitated undecidedly. It was plain that he was
wavering. Ned decided to drive home a final nail of argument.
“If you come now, Childs, it is possible that your punishment will be
light. I’ll do my best for you. You have an excellent record and that
will be taken into consideration. Be advised. I’ve seen more of the
service than you have and know what I’m talking about. Will you
come, or shall I have to summon the patrol to take you? In that case
it will go hard with you.”
Childs’ lips trembled. He was little more than a boy, and he now
began to see the magnitude of the offence he had been
contemplating.
“I’ll come, sir,” he said, “you’re right. It’s best to face the music.”
“That’s the talk. Now——”
Childs was jerked violently from Ned’s grasp. Ned made a grab and
recovered his prisoner from the hawk-eyed man, who had pulled him
aside and was whispering to him.
What happened then came so quickly that it fairly took Ned off his
feet, so to speak.
The hawk-eyed man gave a shout. Then he uttered some quick
exclamations in German in a loud tone. In a flash every man in the
room but the men-o’-war’s-men was upon his feet. From the front
office the walrus-faced proprietor came lumbering heavily in. In his
hand was a big revolver. The swindler uttered what appeared to be a
signal, and en masse the stokers and long-shore loafers made a rush
for Ned as he stood with his back against the wall and Childs by his
side.
“Stand back, you fellows!” cried Ned in a firm, ringing voice. “I’m
armed with the authority of the United States Navy. The man who
lays hands on me answers to the Government. Understand that?”
Seemingly they did, for the mob of brutalized, hard-bitten characters
checked its forward dash and wavered. But Schmidt, the walrus-
faced German, rallied his ranks of rowdies.
“Don’t let dot young naval pup gedt oudt of here!” he cried. “He’s a
spy! He’s looking for deserters! If you ledt him gedt oudt, a lot of
you be catched undt shofed back in der nafy brigs.”
It was a shrewd move. As Schmidt well knew, most of the habitués
of his place were men whose names figured on the list of deserters
sought by the Federal authorities. Like an avalanche the hesitating
line rallied and swept down on Ned.
“Childs, are you with me?” cried Ned, as he saw.
“Y-y-yes,” stammered the young sailor, but Ned saw that he couldn’t
place much dependence upon his ally.
The Dreadnought Boy met the onslaught with a vigor that
astonished Schmidt’s cohorts. Before his fists, which shot out into
the massed faces like piston-rods, many a tough loafer and stoker
went down. Childs, though, was borne to the ground at the first
rush. His defense was half-hearted at best and he made little
attempt to resist, deeming it a hopeless contest.
Ned did not dare to lower his defenses long enough to give the
sharp blast on his whistle that he knew would summon aid from the
outside. But pursing his lips as he drove blows right and left with
flail-like force, he contrived to send out a shrill call without the aid of
his bos’un’s pipe.
In the uproar the sound was unheard outside. In fact, it is doubtful if
even the shrill summons of the whistle could have been heard
beyond the front office, closed as the doors were. But the sound was
interpreted as some kind of a signal by Schmidt’s crowd and for an
instant they hesitated. It was Ned’s chance. He jerked Childs, who
was cowering and helpless, to his feet.
“For heaven’s sake, be a man!” he implored. “Come on, rush for the
door. We’ve one chance in a hundred of getting out.”
All this time the men from the Manhattan had remained inactive. In
fact, all that occurred had taken place so swiftly that they had not
yet had time exactly to realize what was going forward.
Now, however, they sprang to their feet in a body.
“Ahoy, Manhattans!” shouted Ned, as he saw this. “Here’s a chance
to show the stuff you’re made of!”
Would they respond to the young petty officer’s appeal? If they did
not, Ned realized that the outlook was black indeed.
 CHAPTER VII.
AN ILL WIND FOR SCHMIDT.

The clear, commanding tones of the Dreadnought Boy had relighted

in the souls of the straggling, delinquent sailors a spark of honor, of
feeling for the flag and duty. But Schmidt saw to it that the revival of
this instinct was only momentary.
While the men exchanged glances and began to get shoulder to
shoulder ready for a rescuing rush, he raised his thick voice.
“If dey gedt you pack on sheep, you know voyt you gedt idt!” he
cried. “You gedts nuddings budt der brig, bread undt vater undt no
shore leafes. Nobotty can hear nuddings in dis blace, undt ov you
don’t help dis young pig-head of a officer, nopoddy been der viser.
Ov you help him, he take you pack aboardt der sheeps undt den
your troubles pegins!”
It was a crafty appeal by a crafty man well versed in the ways of
those who follow the sea. The men who, an instant before, had been
rallied by Ned’s manly, outspoken address, hesitated and began to
murmur among each other. Ned, with an inward groan, saw that the
argument had been effective.
“I promise to do my best for you, men, if you help me now,” he
cried.
“Yes, all that may be, Gunner’s-Mate,” retorted a much-tattooed old
tar, who went by the name of “Harness Cask” Bill, “but what good
can you do us with a skipper who’ll put us in the brig on short
allowance and stop our shore leave the rest of the cruise?”
“That’s right, Bill,” cried another; “we’d only be cutting our own
throats, say I.”
“Them’s my opinions,” cried a third. “It’s hands off, mates, I say.
Schmidt will give us a chance to get clear away and then to blazes
with the navy.”
“Shame!” cried Ned in a loud, clear voice. “Shame on you, my man,
to abuse a service that is the finest in the world.”
“Oh, stow that gaff,” growled someone, and as if it had been a
signal, the attack recommenced. Childs was torn from Ned’s side and
the whole press of desperate characters surged about him, shouting
and struggling to seize him. Ned fought with all his skill and bravery.
But in the nature of things, it was a contest that could not long
endure.
A dozen men, with arms developed into Samson-like strength in the
fire-rooms of a hundred deep-sea tramps, threw themselves upon
him. With all the wiry strength and resource that were his, Ned
struggled. But by sheer superiority of numbers and brawn the others
were bound to win, and Ned knew that it must be so from the first.
Powerful as he was, the Dreadnought Boy was little more than a
puppet in their hands. He gave a good account of himself and then,
“with colors flying,” Ned Strong was borne to the ground with a
dozen bodies piled on top of him.
In the guttural accents of the fat and flabby Schmidt, some orders
were hastily given. Ned was picked up breathless and bruised but
still struggling for freedom. He was carried through a rear door.
Down a long, dark, ill-smelling hallway he was borne till another
portal was reached. Schmidt, who carried a candle stuck in a bottle,
kicked this door open.
“In midt him,” he ordered.
Ned was hurled bodily forward and landed on a wooden floor with a
hard thud that left him badly shaken. The door was slammed to and
then came the “click” of a lock as it was shot.
“I’ve been fooled, badly fooled,” groaned poor Ned, “but,” clenching
his fists, “I’ll win out yet. I will! I will!”
He got up on his feet and looked about him. The room was not a
large one, and except for the door by which he had been thrust into
it, the place had no doors or windows. Over his head, however, was
a skylight with dirt-crusted panes which admitted a dim sort of light.
Apparently the room was a sort of storeroom, for all about were
boxes, bales and old barrels. The boxes attracted Ned’s attention.
They were lavishly decorated and covered with characters which he
recognized as being Chinese. An aromatic odor was in the air and
Ned soon perceived why. The decorated chests were tea receptacles.
Most of them were unopened and had apparently come direct from
some Oriental ship, for there were no customs marks upon them.
The truth burst upon Ned suddenly.
The tea-chests were off vessels from the Orient. But they had never
paid duty. He was beholding an adjunct of Schmidt’s business,—a
tea-smuggling plant on a large scale. He estimated that, allowing
even a small price for the tea, there must have been at least ten
thousand dollars’ worth of the herb stored in that room.
“Phew!” exclaimed the boy, “here’s a find which alone will cause a lot
of trouble for Schmidt, if I can ever get out of here. What a
collection! But tea won’t do me any good now. What I need is
something to batter that door down. I might rush them and get clear
away if I only could. I’ll try it, anyhow.”
But a brief examination of the door showed him that such an
attempt would be only foolish waste of strength. The door was made
of heavy planks reënforced with iron bolts, and appeared to have
been built to withstand a siege.
“A regular safe-deposit vault,” sighed Ned. “What a predicament! I’ve
certainly made a fine mess of it, this time.”
He fell to examining the walls. But they were apparently as solidly
constructed as the door. The skylight offered the only means of
egress and that was fully ten feet from the floor.
Ned looked up at it wistfully.
“I wonder if there’s any way I could get up there,” he said musingly.
“No, it’s too high, I—By hookey! I’ve got an idea. These boxes! I can
build a pile of them and climb up to it. It’s worth trying, anyhow.”
Ned lost no time in carrying out his plan. He did not know at what
moment he might be interrupted and this fear lent haste to his
movements. He dragged and piled heavy chests till they grew too
much for him to handle. Then he looked about for lighter articles to
construct the apex of the pile on which he meant to try to crawl to
liberty.
He found several boxes which were empty and easily handled and he
placed these on top of the tea-chests. Then he climbed up, but he
found that his finger tips were still, even when out-stretched to their
utmost, some distance from the edge of the skylight.
“I’ll jump for it. I think there’s one bare chance I can make it,”
thought Ned.
He crouched, flexing his muscles for a supreme effort. Carefully
measuring the distance with his eyes he shot straight upward for the
edge of the skylight frame. His finger tips clutched the sides, slipped
and then his grip gave way.
Down he came, crashing, with boxes and bales tumbling about him
and creating a fearful uproar. As he struck the ground he lay quite
still. Apparently he had not been injured, though how he escaped,
he could hardly make out himself.
He got upon his feet and listened. He could not hear a sound
outside.
“They’ve deserted the place like a lot of rats,” he exclaimed. “There’s
nothing left for me to do but to try again. I guess——”
Outside the door sounded a trampling of feet. The crash of Ned’s
down-toppling pyramid had then, after all, been heard outside. In
another minute they would be in the room, and then——?
A key grated in the lock. Ned darted behind a large barrel which lay
on its side in a corner of the place. Crouching there like a hunted
thing, he heard the door flung open and several men tramp into the
room. Above the voices that broke into hub-bub when the wreck of
Ned’s pile of boxes was seen, Schmidt’s could be heard plainly.
“Himmel! He’s climbed py der schylighdt oudt!” shrilled the German.
“If he has, we’ve got him then!” came another voice. “He can’t get
off that roof.”
“Ach no! Dot is so!” cried the German jubilantly. “We haf him like a
leedle mouse midt a cat. Gedt a latter, somebodty. Donner! Ve dondt
vant to loose him now. Idt vould mean der ruination of der ‘Fair
Vind.’”
Ned saw a gleam of hope. If only they carried out their plan there
was still a chance for him. Crouching behind the barrel, he eagerly
awaited the sound of the next move, for he did not dare to protrude
his head from his hiding place.
Presently came the scraping sound of the ladder being run up to the
skylight.
“Up, undt after him!” cried Schmidt.
Three men nimbly ascended the ladder. Ned, looking up, could see
them as they mounted, but luckily they did not look down. It never
occurred to them that the lad for whom they were searching was
within a few feet of them, and not on the roof at all.
The last to ascend were the hawk-eyed man and Schmidt himself.
The fat German was so eager to join in the pursuit that he could not
forego the, to him, painful climb up the ladder, which it involved.
Ned chuckled as the two pairs of ankles vanished through the
skylight. The moment had arrived for him to put his plan into
execution. He lost no time in doing so.
Darting from his hiding place, he ran toward the ladder and, seizing
it, he sent it crashing to the floor.
The escape of the men on the roof above was cut off.
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