The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice. Goldfrap John Henry
I should care much for it," said Herc, as the boys walked toward Third Avenue, their ears stunned by the din all about them.
"Nor I," responded Ned. "However, if we pass our tests and are accepted, we shall not have to stop here longer than overnight. That's one comfort."
"That's so," assented Herc. "I used to think there was an ear-splitting racket about the place on hog-killing day, but it was nothing to this."
Thus conversing they boarded a Third Avenue car and rode for half an hour or more.
"Here you are, boys – here's Number 394."
The conductor of the car poked his head in through the doors and gave his bell one jerk, which brought it to a stop.
The boys hastened from the car, and found themselves opposite a not particularly prepossessing looking building, the lower floor of which was occupied by an old book store. But above an open door leading to the upper stories, which had been newly painted and presented a neat appearance, floated a flag that made both their hearts beat quicker. If all went well, they would soon be enlisted under it. Old Glory hung bravely above the dingy portal, amid the hurry and squalidness of the surroundings.
"Well, here's the place, Herc."
But to Ned's surprise, Herc stopped short and was standing irresolutely behind him.
"Um-ah! I guess we'd better walk around the block a couple of times first, Ned," stammered the red-headed youth.
"What's the trouble?" laughed Ned. "You look as awkward as a hired man going courting. You don't mean to say that you are nervous?"
"No," protested Herc, "not nervous, Ned; but – but – Well, the fact is, I'd have liked a little preparation first, as the fellow said when he fell into the well on Luke Bates' place up home."
"You're going to come in with me right now," said Ned grimly, seizing Herc's arm in a grip there was no resisting.
Together the two lads passed through the door and up a flight of stairs. At the head of the flight they found a well-furnished office confronting them. A rather brusque-looking man, with a pair of formidable mustaches, sat at a table facing them.
"Well?" he demanded somewhat truculently.
"Well," the irrepressible Herc was beginning in the same aggressive tone, when Ned checked him.
"We wish to enlist in the navy. Have we come to the right place, sir?" he asked civilly.
"You have, my boys," was the response in heartier tone; "and if you mean business, I think I can promise, from looking you over casually, that you'll pass with flying colors. Fill out these blanks, and I'll see what you're made of. We have so many fakes we have to be careful."
He pushed toward the boys two large sheets of paper. On them were printed numerous questions about themselves, their parents, their previous condition of life, and so forth.
"Gee! this is like passing an examination at school," whispered Herc, as the boys sat down with pen and ink at a corner table and prepared to fill out the blank spaces left for answers.
"Hush!" cautioned Ned.
"Or the papers you fill out when you enter a prize heifer at the county fair," continued the incorrigible red-headed youth.
Despite Herc's frequent remarks, breathed in a cautious undertone, the questions were all answered in due time and the papers handed over to the bristly mustached man, who eyed them approvingly.
"Good!" he snapped. "Neat and satisfactory. Now," he continued, "go into that room and undergo a physical examination."
He indicated a door, which the boys opened with somewhat of a feeling of awe, and found themselves in the presence of a surgeon, who ordered them to disrobe and conducted a thorough examination of them.
"Just as if we were a pair of fat porkers," commented Herc afterward.
"They are magnificent physical specimens," reported the surgeon to the bristly mustached man, who, though the boys did not then know it, was a quartermaster detailed to recruiting duty.
"Good!" snapped the quartermaster once more. "They have already given me the written consent of their guardian, so nothing remains to be done but to administer the oath."
The solemn oath of allegiance to duty and country was then administered to the boys, who stood bolt upright, with round eyes, while the impressive little ceremony was gone through. Even the volatile Herc seemed impressed by the seriousness of what they were undertaking.
"And now we are blue jackets," said Ned, as they concluded and subscribed their names to the oath.
"Not yet," laughed the quartermaster. "You will now have to go to the Naval Training School at Newport as apprentice seamen."
"Only apprentices," sighed Herc. "I thought we were out of that class."
"As apprentice seamen," went on the officer, not noticing the interruption, "you will receive pay during your four months of instruction, and will be furnished uniforms and equipment free, as well as board."
He reached into a drawer.
"Here is your transportation to Newport. The boat leaves to-night at six o'clock," he went on, handing the boys some tickets. "I hope you boys, who look to be the stuff of which real seamen are made, will work hard and succeed."
"Thank you, sir. We will if effort counts for anything," promised Ned.
With light hearts the two boys made their way to the street a few minutes later. As they passed under the flag once more, Ned drew himself up stiffly and saluted.
"Why do you do that?" asked Herc curiously, as he watched his companion's action.
"Because we are now sailors under that flag in the United States navy," replied Ned proudly. "You should do the same, Herc. We're Dreadnought Boys from now on."
"All right. I will salute next time," easily responded Herc. "And now, as we have some few hours before the boat goes, let's saunter round a bit and see the sights."
As the boys, having inquired the way, started toward Broadway, they almost collided with a tall figure that was hastening into the door of the recruiting office.
"Out of my way, can't you?" the newcomer exclaimed querulously, shoving roughly by. "What are you barricading the door of the naval recruiting office for? I'll report you."
"We're here because we are now apprentice seamen in the navy, Hank Harkins," rejoined Ned, who had recognized the bully before the other had realized with whom he had almost collided.
Hank glanced angrily at the two lads, but refrained from speaking. Instead, he hurried up the stairs leading to the recruiting office, paying no attention to his country's flag.
"There goes a fine addition to the navy," sneered Herc, as the boys started off for Broadway.
"Don't say that, Herc. The navy may make a man of him," remarked Ned.
"Then it's got a fine big job on its hands, that's all I've got to say!" was the red-headed lad's rejoinder.
CHAPTER IV.
THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS HAVE AN ADVENTURE
The Rhode Island, the largest and fleetest of the big passenger vessels plying Long Island Sound between New York and New England ports, was ploughing her way through a wild, bitter night in the latter part of March, down the narrow, tempestuous passage of water dividing the mainland from the low-lying expanse of Long Island.
Although the snow swirled and the wind screamed through the vessel's funnel stays and lofty wireless aerials as if it would root them out, every window and porthole on her three lofty decks glowed with a cheerful yellow light. The lively strains of an orchestra were occasionally swirled away on the fierce wind, when the door of the main saloon swung open to admit or give egress to a passenger.
The laboring vessel had run into the storm at sundown that evening, and now, as she forged her way through the choppy seas off Point Judith, she was, despite her great size, thrown and tossed about like an empty bottle at the mercy of the seas.
As