TWO LADS WITH THE "RIGHT RING."
It seemed to Herc that he had been asleep but a short time when he awakened with a start and an uneasy feeling that he could not account for.
Gradually, however, as the semi-stupor that followed the opening of his eyes wore off and he became sensible of his surroundings, he was aware that something unusual seemed to be occurring on the ship. Shouts and the trampling of running feet were borne in to him, and his first sleepy impression was that it was morning.
Suddenly, however, he became aware that the shouts formed a certain definite cry.
What was it?
Herc straightened up as well as he could in his bunk and listened.
A thrill of horror shot through him, as, like a flash, he sensed the nature of the shouts that had aroused him.
"Fire! Fire! Fire!"
The terrifying cry echoed from bow to stern of the ship and Herc now recognized a fact which he had not in first sleepy stupor realized, and that was that their cabin was hazy with smoke, which was becoming momentarily thicker. The heat, also, was growing rapidly insupportable.
With one bound, the boy was on the floor, and shaking Ned by the shoulder.
"Ned, Ned, wake up!" he roared at the top of his voice.
"Aye, aye, sir!" came in a sleepy voice from Ned, who was dreaming that he was still back in the training school and that reveille had blown.
A minute later, however, Herc's shaking aroused him to his senses, and a few rapidly spoken words apprised him of the seriousness of the situation.
"Tumble into your clothes quick!" gasped Herc, as breathing in the smoke-filled room became every moment more difficult.
Ned needed no second telling. In a few seconds, thanks to their training, both boys were in their uniforms, and, grabbing up their suitcases, dashed out onto the decks.
The scene outside was one that might have turned cooler heads than theirs. The storm wasstill raging, and a white swirl enveloped the laboring ship, but the whiteness of the snow was tinged a fiery red with the reflections of towering flames that were by this time pouring from the engine-room hatch of theRhode Island, and illuminating the night with their devouring splendor. Fire originating in a pile of oily waste against a wooden bulkhead had started the blaze.
Men and women in all stages of dress and undress rushed confusedly about the decks, praying, screaming, blaspheming and fighting.
In the emergency that had so suddenly arisen, the crew and officers of the ship seemed powerless to do anything. Instead of attempting to quiet the panic, they rushed about, apparently as maddened as the rest of the persons on the ship, by the dire peril that confronted them.
"The boats! The boats!" someone suddenly shouted, and a mad rush for the upper decks, on which the boats were swung, followed. Women were flung aside by cowardly men frenzied with terror.
"Here, I can't stand this!" shouted Ned, as, followed by Herc, he plunged toward the foot of the narrow stairway up which the frenzied passengers were fighting their way.
"Women and children first! Women and children first!" the Dreadnought Boy kept shouting, as he elbowed his way to the foot of the steps, closely trailed by Herc.
The roar of the flames was by this time deafening, drowning all other sounds. To add to the confusion, there now came pouring up from the lower regions of the ship a black and sooty crew—the firemen of the vessel. Maddened by fear and brutal by nature, the grimy stokers had little difficulty in shoving the weaker passengers aside and making their way to the foot of the stairway up which Ned and Herc were helping the women and children and keeping back the cowardly male passengers as best they could. They were not over gentle in doing this latter. It was no time for halfway measures.
Above them, the captain of the ship and two of his officers who had partially collected their wits, were directing the crew to lower the boats. The women and children were being placed in them as rapidly as possible as Ned and Herc passed them up.
"Can you hold them back?" the captain had shouted down to the boys a few minutes before,as he peered down at the struggling mass on the lower deck.
"We'll stick it out as long as we can," Ned had assured him, as he whirled a terrified male passenger about and sent him spinning backward whining pitifully that he "didn't want to die."
Suddenly Herc was confronted by a huge form, brandishing a steel spanner in a knotty fist.
It was one of the panic-stricken firemen.
"Let me by, kid!" bellowed this formidable antagonist.
"You can see for yourself that there are several women to go yet," responded Herc calmly, although he felt anything but easy in his mind as the muscular giant glared at him with terror and vindictiveness mingling in his gaze. "Women first, that's the rule."
"What in blazes do I care about the women?" roared the fireman, behind whom were now ranged several of his companions. "Let me by, or——"
He flourished the spanner with a suggestive motion anything but agreeable to Herc.
The red-headed boy gazed over in the direction in which he had last seen Ned.
There was no hope for help from that quarter, as a glance showed him. Ned was holding back an excited man with long whiskers and of prosperous appearance, who was shouting as if he were a phonograph:
"A thousand dollars for a seat in the boats! A thousand—two thousand dollars for a seat in the boats!"
Suddenly, so suddenly that Herc had not time to guard against it, the stokers made a concerted rush for him.
"Ned! Ned!" shouted the boy, as he felt himself borne down by overwhelming numbers and trampled underfoot.
Ned heard the cry, and in two leaps was in the midst of the scuffle, dealing and receiving blows right and left.
"Do you call yourselves men?" he shouted indignantly, as the stokers fought their way forward in a grim phalanx which there was no resisting.
"It's deuce take the hindmost, and every man for himself now!" shouted a voice in the crowd, and the cowardly mob elbowed forward through the few women that still remained on the stairway and its approaches.
Ned and Herc, who had by this time struggled to his feet, fought desperately to stem the tide. So effective were their blows that for a time they actually succeeded in checking the advance.
"Oh, for a gun!" breathed Ned.
"A cannon!" amended Herc.
Above them they heard a cheer, signifying that the first boat had struck the water.
"Stick it out, Herc!" panted Ned, as he struggled with a grimy giant, who, thanks to his ignorance of wrestling and tackles, was easily hurled backward by his lighter opponent. But the fight was too uneven to be of long duration.
Step by step, fighting every inch of the way, the two boys were borne backward by the opposing mob. Ned's foot caught in the lower step of the stairway and he was toppled over backward.
A mighty onrush of the fugitives immediately followed, and Herc shared Ned's fate.
The thought that they had failed flashed bitterly through each Dreadnought Boy's mind as they were trampled and crushed by hurrying feet of the terrified firemen, whose van was followed by the badly scared male passengers. Thescreams of the women who were being ruthlessly thrust aside tingled maddeningly in the boys' ears as they strove to regain their feet.
Suddenly, above all the noise of the fugitives and the crackling of the flames as they ate through the bulkheads about the engine-room hatchway, the boys heard a sharp command.
It rang out as incisively as the report of a rifle, in a voice that seemed used to implicit obedience:
"I'll shoot the next man up that stairway!"
The rush came to halt for a brief second, and in that time the boys scrambled to their feet.
They soon perceived the cause of the interruption.
Not far from them, garbed in his shirt and trousers, just as he had rushed from his cabin on awaking, stood the man who had occupied the neighboring cabin to theirs.
The flames illumined the grim compression of his lips beneath his gray mustache. His eyes were narrowed to a determined angle.
In his hand he held a blue-steel navy revolver on which the glare of the conflagration played glisteningly.
"Come on, boys!" roared the stoker who hadthreatened Herc with the spanner. "It's just a bluff!"
"That's to show you Imean business!"
"That's to show you Imean business!"
At his words, the spell that had fallen on the frightened crowd for a second seemed to be broken, and the rush recommenced. The boys, with horrified eyes, saw the giant stoker snatch up a woman with a child in her arms and hurl her brutally back into the crowd, where she disappeared, lost in the vortex of struggling humanity.
"Crack!"
There was a spit of vicious blue flame from the revolver, followed by a yell of pain from the giant stoker.
The boys saw the spanner fall from his upraised hand and tumble with a clatter at his feet. His wrist, shot through by the gray-mustached man's unerring aim, hung limp at his side.
Like frightened sheep suddenly checked in a stampede, the white-faced crowd came to a halt and faced about at the new peril.
"That's to show youI mean business!" grated out the marksman, in a voice as cold as chilled steel. "Now let the women go first, and then the men may follow."
Under that menacing weapon, of whose efficiencythey had just received so convincing a proof, the men sullenly stood aside and passed up the half-dozen women or so who had not had an opportunity to take advantage of the boys' plucky stand.
From the bridge above, the captain of theRhode Islandhailed them.
"Six boats are away! Let the rest come!"
"Steady, steady!" came the sharp, commanding voice of the man with the pistol once more, as the score of men left began to scramble up the stairway. "One at a time! Take it easy!"
Under his authoritative voice the rush changed like magic to an orderly retreat, and in a few minutes a seventh boat was loaded with frightened passengers and lowered onto the heaving sea.
"Well, I guess we can go now, Herc," remarked Ned, turning to his companion.
"Yes, it's getting as warm here as it is in the smoke house at home in July," agreed Herc, as he carefully picked up his suitcase, which was somewhat battered by the recent knocking about it had gone through. After Ned had likewise recovered his piece of baggage, the two boys began the ascent of the stairway. For the momentthey had quite forgotten the presence of the gray-mustached man, of whom, as we know, Herc stood in some awe on account of the inscription he had espied on the former's suitcase.
Now, however, the stranger was at the boys' sides. They saluted instinctively.
"I was a witness of your plucky conduct," he exclaimed warmly, "and I am glad to see that I was not to be disappointed in the estimate I had formed of both your characters. I shall keep a sharp lookout over your future careers as seamen in the navy."
It was a moment when ordinary barriers seemed to be let down, and Herc, in a hesitating tone, asked, as they gained the boat deck:
"Are you in the navy, too, sir, may we ask?"
"You may, my boy," was the hearty response. "I am Captain Dunham of theManhattan."
"You're all right, sir," sputtered Herc, in his enthusiasm entirely forgetting the respect due to an officer.
The next minute, with cheeks even more crimson than the flames and his exertions had painted them, the farmer boy plunged forward into the confusion of the boat deck, much embarrassed at his impulsive breach of discipline.
A COWARD'S BLOW.
Thanks to the boys' defense of the stairway, and the cool-headed commander's prompt action in quelling the onrush of the stokers, the boys found that there was plenty of room in the two boats that still remained to be lowered. Haste, however, was a matter of necessity, as the flames by this time had devoured the bulkheads and were sweeping forward, driven by the high wind.
The captain of theRhode Islandhad recovered his wits, and the loading of the boats went on rapidly. In its company were enrolled the cowardly stokers, at whom the boys could not gaze without a feeling of disgust.
"Are not you boys going in that boat?" said a voice at their elbow, as the davits were swung out and the remainder of the crew prepared to lower it.
"No, sir; as navy men," said Ned, proudlydwelling on the "men," "we prefer to wait till the last boat to leave the ship."
"That's right," agreed the commander approvingly.
He hastened off and assumed the control of the few maneuvres to be carried out before theRhode Islandwas ready to be abandoned. The captain of theRhode Islandhad recognized Captain Dunham, and was anxiously trying to aid him; but the naval commander treated the other with some contempt, doubtless inspired by the latter's abject failure to quell the panic in its inception or handle it when it broke.
The boys now had time to gaze about them.
The glare of the burning ship lit up the surrounding water with a weird radiance, in which they could see the loaded boats, already lowered, tossing helplessly, the crowds on each being so great that the sailors could not use their oars.
"Say, Ned, suppose the boiler busts!" suddenly exclaimed the cheerful Herc, as the last boat was swung out.
"No use thinking of such possibilities," rejoined Ned decisively.
"Well, I can't help it," protested Herc indignantly. "I remember when that thresher blewup to grandpa's. I guess this would be something like that, eh, Ned?"
"Only more so," was the dry reply.
Suddenly the notification that all was ready for the lowering of the last boat rang out.
As this one was to be the final lifeboat to leave the ship, it was put overside before any one boarded it. The officers of theRhode Island, the six members of the crew remaining, the boys and Commander Dunham getting into it by sliding down the falls.
At last they were all on board, and the order was given to shove off. No time was lost in doing this, as theRhode Islandwas by this time a mass of flames in her forepart, and it seemed impossible that she could float much longer.
"Do you anticipate being picked up shortly, captain?" asked the boys' friend of the commander of theRhode Island.
"Why, I don't expect that we'll have to drift about very long," was the reply. "You see, the Sound is well traveled, and some ship must have seen the flare of the fire."
It was bitterly cold in the storm-swept waters of the Sound, but the boys checked any tendencythey might have felt to complain by thinking of the plight of the women and children in the other boats.
It is doubtful as the newspapers at the time pointed out, that there would have been no fatalities attendant on the wreck of theRhode Island, if but a little less than half an hour after they had cast adrift from the ill-fated steamer, theKentucky, of the Joy Line, had not hove in sight. By this time theRhode Islandhad burned to the water's edge, and sank with a noisy roar.
TheKentuckybore down with all speed on the drifting boatloads of half-frozen men and women, and within an hour every one of the passengers had been picked up and given warm food and drink and attention.
As theKentucky, having performed her rescue work, pursued her way to New York, the boys mingled with the excited crowd of the saved that thronged her lighted saloon.
While they walked about, overhearing interesting scraps of conversation relating to the rescues of several of the passengers, they were startled by a sudden cry in a woman's voice:
"There he is! There he is, the coward!"
There was a rush to the part of the saloon from whence the cry had proceeded. Every one was naturally anxious to ascertain what could have caused it. The boys were among the curious persons who joined the throng.
They saw a slight, pale-faced woman pointing indignantly to a tall youth who was slinking away through the crowd, trying evidently to conceal himself from the woman's scorn.
"What is the matter, madam?" somebody asked the excited woman.
"Why, I was in the first rush for the stairway," explained the woman, "before those brave young men there——" It was the boys' turn to try to slink away. "Before those brave young men there kept back the cowardly fellows who were trying to trample past us. That man yonder, who has just slunk away, dealt me this blow in the face," she pointed to a livid weal on her cheek, "and knocked me down."
A roar of indignation went up as she related the craven conduct of the youth the boys had observed slink off. Some of the more excitable passengers shouted that they wanted to organize a party to find him and deal him out summarypunishment. Cooler counsel prevailed, however, and the rest of the night was passed in as comfortable a manner as was possible on the overcrowded ship.
When theKentuckyarrived at her dock on the East River, below the Brooklyn Bridge, she was met by big crowds, among whom were many reporters, the wireless stations along the Sound having been notified by theKentuckyof the disaster that had overtaken theRhode Island.
The boys, laughingly turning aside the assiduous young men of the press, were making their way ashore, when Herc suddenly caught hold of Ned's arm.
"Look there!" he exclaimed.
Ned looked, and saw Hank Harkins standing in the midst of a throng of reporters, to whom he was evidently giving a "big story."
"I took the woman in my arms," the boys heard him say, as they paused, "and made my way to the upper deck with her."
"You saved her?" asked a young reporter, holding a long pencil poised above a very large new notebook.
"Yes, I saved her, and then——" Hank was continuing, when his jaw suddenly dropped, and he shook as if he was about to have a fit.
Then, without another word to the amazed reporters, he shouldered his way through their ranks and dashed off down the gangplank in the direction of the land.
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Herc. "I'll remember Hank's look when he met our eyes as long as I live. He looked like a dying duck in a thunderstorm!"
"I guess we headed off his thrilling narrative, all right," commented Ned, echoing Herc's merriment.
"And for a good reason, too," went on Herc. "I recognized Hank as he slunk away from that woman last night. He was the coward who struck her and disgraced his uniform."
"I'm glad his overcoat covered it," rejoined Ned.
At this juncture one of the reporters, who had noticed that both the lads wore Uncle Sam's uniforms, hurried up to them.
"Can you tell us what was the matter with that fellow?" he demanded. "He was just in the middle of giving us a good story, when he suddenlyhurried off as if he had been shot. Is he a reliable chap, do you know?"
"Well, I wouldn't believeallhe told you," grinned Herc, as the Dreadnought Boys hurried ashore, to cross New York and join their ship.
"WE ARE PART OF THE FLEET."
After some little difficulty the boys ascertained that theManhattanlay up the North River, off the foot of Seventy-second Street and Riverside Drive. They could go to Seventy-second Street in a subway express, they were informed, and then walk across to the boat landing, where they would be almost sure to find a launch from the big Dreadnought waiting to take off the shore-leave men.
"Say!" gasped Herc, as the two, having descended into the "tube" and seated themselves in the lighted car, were whirled northward through pitch darkness toward their destination, "how far does this hole in the ground go?"
"Almost as far as Yonkers, I guess," replied Ned; "or so I've heard. Don't you like it?"
"Not much," rejoined Herc; "it's like trying to talk in a boiler factory."
The two boys had their suitcases tightlyclutched between their knees, but nevertheless, when they reached the Grand Central station, the inrush of passengers, tumbling and pushing like mad to get seats, swept the lads' possessions before them as if the two pieces of baggage had been chaff in a high wind.
"Hey! come back with those gripsacks!" yelled Herc indignantly, seizing the arm of a puny-looking lad who was stumbling forward over the red-headed lad's particular possession. "Haven't you any manners?"
The town-bred lad turned a sharp, ferret-eyed face on the young sailor.
"Say, greenie, where do you come from, Painted Post or far Cohoes 'where the wind flower blows'? Just keep an eye on your own junk, or else hire an express wagon."
The indignant Herc stooped to rescue his suitcase, and by the time he raised a red and angry face, the sharp-faced lad had gone.
"Good thing he did get out of the way, or I'd have fetched him a clip on the ear!" grumbled Herc, as he resumed his seat by Ned, who had by this time retrieved his property also.
"No use losing your temper," counseled Ned; "just keep cool. Hullo, there is an old lady anda younger one standing up over there. The old one looks feeble. I'm going to give them these seats. Come on and get up."
"All right," muttered Herc, "but I don't see any one else doing so. See, all the men are seated and the women all seem to be standing up. What's the use of being different to the others? We'll only get stared at."
"All the more reason that we should be polite. The first duty of a sailor is to be kind and courteous to those weaker than himself," rejoined Ned in an undertone, as the boys rose to their feet.
With a courteous bow, Ned approached the ladies and motioned behind him to where he supposed two seats were vacant.
"Will you avail yourself of our places, madam?" he said, addressing the older lady and removing his navy cap.
Herc, with an awkward grin, also uncovered his red thatch and made a sweeping motion behind him with his big hand.
"Thank you very much, sir," rejoined the elderly lady, "my daughter and myself would be very glad to accept your kindness, but others seem already to have availed themselves of it."
"What's that?" cried Ned, wheeling, with a redface, and clapping his eyes on the seats they had just vacated.
Sure enough, as the elderly lady had said, they were occupied.
Two stout, red-faced men, with well-rounded stomachs and fingers covered with diamonds, lolled at their ease in the just vacated seats, reading their papers. They had slipped into the places while the boys were requesting the two ladies to take them.
"Well, what do you know about that?" sputtered Herc indignantly. "They just sneaked into those seats like skunks into a wood pile."
"They'll come out of them a lot more easily," breathed Ned grimly, as he took in the situation.
Bending forward, he addressed the interlopers courteously enough, while those around who had witnessed the scene looked on curiously. It is not often that a subway passenger has the courage to resent any slight, however marked. From the compression of Ned's lips and the determined flash in his eyes, however, it was evident that he had no intention of allowing the two beefy newspaper readers to enjoy their stolen seats undisturbed.
"I beg your pardon," said Ned. "Perhaps youare not aware that my friend and I vacated those seats to allow these ladies to be seated."
One of the red-faced ones, slightly older, it seemed, than the other, looked up with a bovine stare in his heavily rimmed eyes.
He stared at the Dreadnought Boys much as if they had been some strange visitors from another planet.
"I guess you don't know much about Noo Yawk," he said in a sneering tone, "or you'd have known that in the Subway it's 'first come, first served.'"
"Is that so?" inquired Ned, keeping down his anger, while Herc was dancing about in the narrow space he could find in the aisle of the crowded car. The red-headed lad was biting his nails and scratching his head in a manner that boded a storm as surely as black clouds portend thunder.
"That being the case," Ned went on in a cool voice, "it's about time that the Subway learned a few manners. We gave those seats up for those two ladies, and not for you. Are you going to vacate them?"
"Aw, run along and roll your hoop!" sneered the younger newspaper reader, with an affectationof great languor. "You drunken sailors make me tired."
A brown hand shot out as the words left his lips, and the beefy one found himself propelled by the shoulder into the center of the car faster than he had had occasion to move for a long time.
At the same instant Herc, to his huge delight, perceived the signal for action and sailed in on his man. In another second the two beefy ones, dazed by the suddenness of it all, stood side by side in the center of the car, while Ned courteously aided the two ladies to the seats from which the interlopers had been so suddenly wrenched.
"This is an outrage!" bellowed the red-faced men in concert, as they found their voices. "Such a thing has never happened before."
"That's a pity," observed Ned contemptuously, while the delighted Herc whispered in a stage undertone:
"Mine came out like a soft, white worm out of a hickory nut."
"Conductor! conductor!" howled the man to whom Ned had given such a rough and ready lesson in manners, "come here and do your duty. We've been assaulted."
The conductor pushed his way through the crowded aisle, assuming an air of great importance.
"What's all this? What's all this?" he shouted.
"These two rowdy sailors deprived us of our seats," sputtered one of the red-faced men.
"Did you fellows do what he says?" demanded the conductor importantly.
"Sure they did. They pulled the gentlemen right out of them," piped up a voice in the background of the crowd—that of the ferret-faced youth.
"Gentlemen!" snorted Herc. "We'd call 'em hogs up our way!"
"We got up to give our seats to those two ladies, and are very sorry to have caused them this embarrassment," volunteered Ned. "But to see these two overfed fellows slip into the seats before we had hardly risen from them got our dander riz, and we undertook to put them out."
"Conductor, you will call a special policeman at the next station," shouted the man that Ned had hauled to his feet. "I'll make a charge against these desperate ruffians. They need a lesson."
Ned and Herc exchanged alarmed glances.
It might ruin their naval careers if, on the eveof joining their ship, they were to undergo the disgrace of an arrest.
"Better think it over," advised the conductor, who seemed disposed to make peace, and as he slipped by the boys, to regain his platform as the train slackened speed, he whispered:
"You'd best make a sneak, boys; that fellow is Dave Pulsifer, the big gun man, and the other's his brother. He's got lots of influence, and he means to make trouble for you."
Little as either of the Dreadnought Boys relished the idea of running away from trouble, yet the advice seemed good. They both knew enough of the law's delays to realize that, in the event of their being arrested on the red-faced man's charge, they would be liable to be held for some time before they could have chance of explaining the circumstances of the case to a magistrate.
As the train rolled into the Seventy-second Street station, therefore, they adroitly slipped by their friend, the conductor, and, as soon as he opened the door, shot out onto the platform.
The red-faced men, crying loudly for a special policeman, were in the act of following them, when—quite by accident, it seemed—the conductor's foot got in the way, and the first of thepair of worthies fell headlong over it, and his companion, who was pressing hard on his heels, piled on top of him.
By the time they had extricated themselves, during which period the crowd of passengers behind them, who were also anxious to alight, went almost crazy at having to wait a few seconds, the two lads were far down the sidewalks of Seventy-second Street. After a few minutes' brisk walk they reached the snow-covered slopes of Riverside Drive.
"Pulsifer! I know that name," Ned mused, as they hurried along. "I have it!" he exclaimed suddenly. "He's Dave Pulsifer, of Pulsifer Bros., the fellows who make guns in America and sell them to foreign governments."
"I'll bet those two were the brothers, then," suggested Herc. "They looked like two ugly pups of the same homely litter."
The boys gave the matter little more thought, though had they realized how intimately the Pulsifers were to be associated with their further career, they might have considered their encounter more seriously.
"Look, Herc, look!" cried Ned, as they came in sight of the river.
From the slight eminence on which they stood, the boys commanded a magnificent spectacle.
Up and down the majestic stream, as far as the eye could reach, the grim, slaty-hued forms of Uncle Sam's sea bulldogs swung at anchor.
From the funnels of some smoke was lazily floating, while others lay like sleeping monsters on the surface of the dark river.
Looking northward, the boys saw only a maze of cage masts—looking not unlike narrow waste-paper baskets turned upside down—and great dark hulls. Here and there a gaily-colored bit of bunting, which as yet meant little to the boys, fluttered from a masthead or from the signal halliards. Between the ships and the shore constantly darted light gasoline boats, or swift launches with big gray hoods over them.
"Just think, Herc,weare a part of all that!" breathed Ned reverently almost, indicating the formidable array of fighting craft with a wave of his hand.
"Gee! I feel about as big as an ant," whispered Herc, even his irrepressible nature overawed at the sight. "How in the world are we—little, insignificant specks—ever going to distinguish ourselvesin all that big array of fighting ships and fighting men?"
"We must do our best, Herc," rejoined Ned simply. "And now let's be getting down to that landing place. I think I see some man-o'-war launches landing there. Maybe we will be lucky enough to find one of theManhattan'sboats."
As they started down an inclined road which led through the park and across the railroad tracks at its foot, they were accosted by a hearty voice just astern of them.
"Hullo, there, shipmates!" it hailed. "Where away?"
The Dreadnought Boys wheeled, and found themselves facing an elderly man, somewhat inclined to stoutness, but whose grizzled and weather-beaten face bore the true trademarks of an old man-o'-war Jack upon it.
"Why, you're from theManhattan!" cried Ned, as his eyes fell on the other's name band, on which the name of the new Dreadnought was embroidered in gilt thread.
"Aye, aye, my hearties," was the rejoinder in a voice cracked with much shouting in heavy weather in all climes, "and you are a pair of rookies—land-lubbers, eh?"
"Well, I guess you might call us that," responded Ned, not best pleased at this free and easy mode of address, but judging it best to be as amiable as possible. "Can you tell us how to get aboard theManhattan? We've just left the Naval Training School and are appointed to her."
"Get your rating?"
"Sure—ordinary seamen."
"That's good. Come on with me, boys, and I'll put you aboard ship shape and comfortable. It's a cold day when old Tom Marlin can't look out for a pair of greenies."
Piloted by their companion, the two boys soon arrived at the landing place, which was already crowded with sailors whose shore leave had expired.
"Which is theManhattan?" asked Sam, gazing with eyes that were still awestruck at the immense vessels that lay out in the river and appeared several sizes too large for their mooring places.
"Right yonder, Bricktop," rejoined old Tom, pointing off to a vessel which, large as were the other battleships, seemed by her huge size almost to dwarf them. "That's the old hooker. The last output of your old Uncle Sam. Right in the next berth to her is theIdaho."
"What's that red flag, with a black ball in the center, floating from theIdaho'smain?" inquired Ned, much interested.
"That? Oh, that's the meat-ball!" laughed old Tom.
"The meat-ball?" echoed the boys, much astonished.
"A sort of dinner flag, I suppose?" asked Herc, who was beginning to feel hungry.
"Not much, my lad," laughed the old sailor. "That's the gunnery pennant for the vessel making the best score at the targets. TheIdahowon that off the Virginia capes on our last battle practice cruise. All the fleet's after it now, but if we have our way, the oldManhattanwill be flying it after we get through peppering the marks off Guantanamo."
Each of the Dreadnought Boys found himself making up his mind, as old Tom spoke, that if it depended on them, theManhattanwould be the battleship to fly the coveted "meat-ball" when next the fleet made port.
HERC TAKES A COLD BATH.
A few minutes after the boys' arrival at the landing, a launch with a lead-covered hood was seen approaching, towing three large ship's boats behind it. The latter were crowded with jackies coming ashore.
A gilt "M." on the bow of the launch proclaimed it to be from theManhattan, and Herc made a dive for the float as the "steamer" puffed up to the landing stage.
"Come on, Ned!" he cried. "Whoop! Here's where we join the ship! Bang! Big guns! Blow 'em up! Hurray!"
But to Herc's surprise, as he made for the inclined runway leading to the float, he was met by the menacing muzzle of a rifle.
The weapon was held by a marine—"soldier and sailor too"—behind whom stood the natty middie in charge of the float.
"Stand back!" ordered the marine sternly.
Herc regarded the leveled rifle with some apprehension and gave way a few steps to the rear.
"Don't you know enough not to try to embark till the order is given?" asked Ned, as the young midshipman scowled at the red-headed youth as if the latter had committed some heinous crime.
"Why, the boats are made to get into, aren't they?" protested Herc. "And who is that fellow in the funny uniform, anyhow?"
"That's a marine," laughed Ned. "He's on sentry duty."
"Oh, so he's a marine, eh?" rejoined Herc, regarding the sentry with much disapproval. "One of those sea soldiers—a sort of half-and-half fellow."
Further comment on Herc's part was cut short by the outpouring of the laughing, shouting jackies who were coming ashore on leave. They poured up the narrow gangway in a seemingly never-ending stream.
"There'll be no one left to man the ships," gasped Herc, as the ranks of light-hearted shore-leave men poured past. Some of them carried suitcases, and were evidently going ashore to bid a last good-by to their friends. Others, whosefolks probably resided in distant cities, were going ashore for a last look at New York.
"Those fellows will all have to be on board by midnight," explained old Tom to the boys. "They're going to crowd all they can into the few hours they'll have ashore."
"Then we are to sail soon?" inquired Ned, his heart beating high and his eyes sparkling.
"Before eight bells to-morrow morning we'll be in the Narrows," rejoined the old bluejacket.
"That's the stuff!" cried Ned, gazing at the ranks of bronzed, healthy faces which were still passing by.
"Want action, eh?" laughed old Tom. "Well, lads, you'll get it before you are many hours older; and remember, my lad, that it isn't all fun aboard a man-o'-war, and always bear in mind one thing—do what you're told without grumbling. Tee-total abstinence, when it comes to making remarks about what you are told to do in Uncle Sam's navy."
"Say, Ned," whispered Herc.
"What?" asked Ned, still engrossed in the animated scene before him, and in the formidable background formed by the motionless war machines.
"Well, did you hear what he said?"
"Yes, why?"
"Oh, nothing; only it looks as if we had bitten off more than we could chew, that's all."
"What do you mean?"
"That I didn't like that part about 'not grumbling whatever we are told to do.' It looks as if we might have some pretty tough chores set us."
"I guess we shall have all sorts of chores," laughed Ned, as he regarded Herc's rueful face; "but we didn't enlist to look pretty and pose becomingly in our uniforms. We're in the United States navy for four years, and whatever happens, we've got to stick to it."
The lads' conversation had been carried on in an undertone, but Ned had unconsciously raised his voice as he spoke the last words.
"That's the talk, shipmate," said old Tom, regarding him approvingly. "I never heard a boy talking like that yet who didn't come out of the big end of the horn before he'd served out his enlistment. The navy's the finest place in the world for boys of your cut, but it's no place for shirkers."
The old man regarded Herc as he spoke, andthe carroty-headed boy's eyes fell under the tar's keen, half-humorous gaze. To tell the truth, Herc was beginning to half regret that he had enlisted at all. The prospect of four years' service at the hard tasks at which the old sailor had hinted did not best please him; but Herc knew better than to make any complaint to Ned. The other lad, however, had noticed his companion's downcast looks and rallied him on them.
"Come, Herc, cheer up!" he said heartily. "We're like young bears—all our troubles before us; but they'll lick us into shape, never fear."
"Oh, crickey! there you go again," groaned Herc.
"Go again—what?" demanded Ned, puzzled.
"Why, talking about 'licking us.' Do they still lick fellows in the navy, Mr. Tom?"
"No, my lad; the cat-o'-nine-tails was abolished in Uncle Sam's ships years ago," responded the old man, with a twinkle; "but we've still got the brig."
"The brig—that's a kind of a ship, isn't it?" inquired Ned.
"Not as I knows of," grinned old Tom; "but teetotal abstinence is the word when it comes tothe brig, my lads. I hope you'll never form its acquaintance."
"Attention!"
The young midshipman shouted the order.
The Dreadnought Boys straightened up, as did all the other tars. The landing parties had by this time all dispersed and were straggling up the hill, playing all manner of tricks on each other, more like a lot of happy boys just out of school than anything else.
"Now, what's that young whipper-snapper going to do?" whispered Herc.
"Hush!" rejoined Ned. "I expect we are going to get an order."
He was right.
Orders were given for the men to board the boats in a quiet, orderly manner.
"Keep close by me," cautioned old Tom, "and never mind the joshing you are going to get."
Ned had noticed for the past few minutes that the sailors assembled on the wharf had been eyeing them curiously, and that some of them had been whispering together.
"Why, what's the trouble?" asked Herc.
"I expect the boys will give you a bit of a hazing,"replied old Tom. "But take it all in good part, and you'll soon be shipmates with all of them."
The old sailor's prophecy came true.
The midshipman who had been on duty at the float was relieved by another of his rank, and the first then took his place in the "steamer" which was to tow the boats full of jackies. As he sat in the stern sheets of the power craft, he could not see readily what was going on in the boats, and perhaps made it a point not to be too observant.
Ned and Herc found themselves in the second boat, and as they had become separated from old Tom in the rush to board the craft, they had now no mentor to advise them, and felt curiously alone among the laughing, joking bluejackets that crowded the boats to the gunwales.
"I see the old man's ordered his winter's supply of kindling!" came in a loud stage whisper from the boat in which the two lads were seated.
The "old man" always refers to the commander of a man-of-war, in the parlance of the jackies.
"Say, Bill, your thatch is on fire!" laughed another.
Poor Herc felt his cheeks turn as red as hisunlucky hair under the running fire of banter which, there was no room to doubt, was intended for him.
"Might be a good thing to call fire stations," grinned another. "I don't much like the idea of sailing on a battleship with so much combustible stuff aboard."
"Like being shipmates with a red-hot stove," put in another before-the-mast humorist.
"Keep cool, Herc," whispered Ned, who was beginning to dread an outburst on the part of his impulsive companion.
Unfortunately his whisper was overheard, and a shout went up from those nearest the two boys.
"That's right! 'Keep cool, Herc!'" they mimicked. "Don't get afire, mate, or we may have to duck you."
"I reckon he must have belonged to the village fire department," put in another.
"I'll bet they practiced putting out fires on his head," came another voice.
It was more than flesh and blood could bear.
Herc arose angrily to his feet, and was beginning a speech full of hot resentment, when the boat, which was by this time under way, gave a sudden lurch.
Herc had been unmindful of the fact that a fresh wind blowing up the North River kicks up quite a sea, and in a second he was sprawling on the bottom of the boat, with a perfect tempest of laughter ringing in his burning ears.
But, as he fell, Herc's heavy form careened against a seaman who was standing upright, scanning the vessel they were approaching. Down crashed the two, with Herc on top. When they rose the nose of the seaman who had fallen under Here's bulky person was bloody, and his eyes inflamed with rage.
"You hayseed-eating swab," he growled, "look here—blood all over my blouse. Now I've got to clean it or get a call down."
"I'm very sorry," said Herc penitently, "I didn't do it on purpose."
"You're a liar, and I'll trim you for it before long."
Herc recollected Ned's advice, and bottled his rage. In a cutting voice, however, he rejoined:
"At the Training School they told us that most sailors were gentlemen. I guess they were dead wrong."
"Fire's out!" yelled somebody; but as, by this time, they were almost alongside the towering,slate-colored sides of theManhattan, a quick cry of "Hush!" ran through the boat, and the Dreadnought Boys, for the present, escaped further trials of their tempers.
"Aren't we going to board the ship?" asked Herc, as the launch approached theManhattan, which was swung up-stream, with the tide.
"Of course," replied Ned.
Both lads spoke in an undertone, so as not to run the risk of incurring a rebuke or the bringing down of further teasing on their heads.
"But there is a gangway hanging over the side right there," objected Herc, pointing to a substantial stairway leading from the stern structure of the big war vessel to the water's edge.
"Why, you lubber," laughed Ned, "that's the officer's landing place. We are not allowed to land on the starboard side. We jackies have to go round to the port side of the ship."
"Humph!" remarked Herc, in whose mind a very distinct feeling that he should not like the navy was beginning to take shape.
In a few minutes the launch drew up at the officer's gangway, and the young midshipman leaped in an agile manner onto it. The launch then continued round the steep bow of theManhattan,which towered like a mighty cliff of gray steel above the boys' heads. It steamed on till it arrived beneath a number of "Jacob's ladders" dangling from booms projecting several feet outward from the vessel's side.
"How on earth do we get aboard?" said Herc.
"Climb up those ladders," rejoined Ned.
"What, those swinging things?"
"That's right."
"What then?"
"Then we run along those booms till we are on board the ship."
"No, thank you."
Herc looked apprehensively at the swinging ladders up which the jackies from the first boat were already beginning to swarm like monkeys, nimbly scampering along the booms when they reached the top. They steadied themselves on the lofty perches by light hand-lines rigged for the purpose.
"What do you mean? Surely you are not getting scared?"
"No, not scared," replied Herc. "But what's a fellow want to come into the navy for if he can make a living walking a tight rope?"
"Come on, you two rookies!" shouted a voice atthis moment. "Let's see how you can manage a Jacob's ladder."
There was a taunting note in the words that made Ned wheel angrily. He saw facing him, with an ugly leer on his countenance, the hulking-looking man, whose arm stripes denoted that he was serving his second enlistment, with whom Herc had already had the recorded passage-at-arms. Then and there Ned felt that this fellow and himself were not destined to make good shipmates. He also determined, however, not to let any of the jackies see that there was an instant's hesitation in his mind about taking the perilous-looking climb.
"Come on, Herc," he cried, as he made a spring for the ladder.
Its swaying end hung a good three feet above the boat, and as the river was fairly choppy, the craft, heavy as it was, bobbed about in a lively manner. The lad's experience at the training school, however, had taught him not to mind this, and without an instant's pause he made a jump for the contrivance, and a second later was climbing up it like a squirrel.
"I guess I'll wait and see after our baggage," called Herc after him.
"Your baggage will be sent up afterward by deep-sea express, bricktop!" yelled a derisive voice. "Come on, now, get up that ladder lively, and don't keep us waiting."
Poor Herc, with much inward perturbation, made a jump for the ladder, and, to his surprise, found that it was easier than he had expected to negotiate. He scrambled rapidly upward after Ned, who by this time was almost at the boom.
Close behind Herc came the sailor who had taunted the boys in the boat. His name was Ralph Kennell, otherwise known as "Kid" Kennell. He had quite a reputation in the fleet as a fighter and wrestler, and on the strength of his renown had allowed a naturally domineering disposition to develop into that of a full-fledged bully.
Kennell pressed close behind Herc as the red-headed boy clambered as fast as he could toward the boom.
"The sooner it's over, the better," thought poor Herc to himself, as he made his best pace upward.
But it was no part of Kennell's plans that the Dreadnought Boys should make their first appearance on board theManhattanwithout some sort of an accident befalling them, and he did hisbest to "rattle" Herc as he climbed close on his heels.
Already Ned had gained the boom, and scampered neatly along it and alighted on the white deck of the first battleship he had ever boarded. He gazed anxiously over the rail at poor Herc as he toiled upward. Ned's quick eyes did not escape the fact that Kennell was "bullyragging" Herc to the extent of his capacity in this direction, which was considerable.
The cheeks of Herc's chum burned angrily as he gazed, but he was powerless to interfere. The officer of the deck, with his telescope tucked under his arm, was standing near by, and Ned knew it would be a gross infraction of navy discipline to shout the warning he longed to deliver to Herc. Ned had, as soon as he reached the deck, turned toward the stern and saluted the flag, and then paid the same compliment to the officer, who had touched the rim of his cap in return.
And now Herc had scrambled up onto the boom, which was slightly flattened on the top and not really so very difficult of passage. He started along it, gripping the frail hand-line tightly. It is likely that, if he had been left alone, he would have gained the ship without disaster, but Kennellwas close behind him, and as Herc, with set face and white cheeks, reached the center of the narrow "bridge," the ship's bully closed up on him.
What happened then occurred so quickly that the jackies who watched it said afterward that all they saw was Herc's body shooting downward with a despairing cry, and a second later another flash, as his chum's form dashed through the air and entered the water close by the place of Herc's disappearance with a loud splash.
Instantly the startling cry of "Man overboard!" echoed from mouth to mouth along the decks of the Dreadnought.
A NAVAL INITIATION.
Both the Dreadnought Boys were good swimmers. Even if they had not been drilled in this art at the training school, their experiences in the old swimming pool at home would have made them at home in the water. Ned had dived after his chum as a matter of impulse, more than anything else, and, a second after the two splashes had resounded, both boys appeared on the surface of the water.
A few strokes brought them to the side of the ship, where they clung to the slight projection afforded by an out-board seacock, till a ladder came snaking down to them.
By this time the rail, which seemed to be as high above them as the summit of a skyscraper, was lined with faces, and at the stern the officers who were on board were peering over the side of the quarterdeck.
Captain Dunham himself, summoned by his orderly, came running from his cabin, as the two dripping youths arose from their immersion, and joined his officers on the stern. He had just come on board in his own launch.
"Who are they, Scott?" he asked of his executive officer, as the boys once more ascended the side of the ship on the emergency ladder.
"Two recruits, sir, from the training station, I believe, sir," was the reply, with a salute.
"Well, they are certainly taking a naval baptism," laughed the captain, whose merriment was echoed by his officers, now that it was seen the boys were safe, "but how did it happen?"
"I don't know, sir. I was not forward at the time," was the rejoinder. "The shore men were coming on board, I believe, and the red-headed young fellow fell from the boom. His companion dived instantly after him. It was a plucky act, sir."
"Humph!" remarked the captain. "I suppose it was an accident, and we can take no official notice of it. By the way, Scott, those two young men, I perceive now, are the ones I spoke to you about as having behaved with such singular courage and cool-headedness when theRhode Islandburned. Keep an eye on them, for I think they have the makings of real sailors in them."
"I shall, sir," replied the executive officer, saluting, as the captain turned away with a return of the courtesy.
If Ned and Herc were wet and cold without, they were warm enough within as they gained the deck. Ned's eye had detected Kennell's foot in the act of reaching out to trip his chum and cousin, and he felt within him an overpowering desire to seek the man out and demand an explanation.
Fortunately, however, for himself, other matters occupied his attention at that moment.
Dripping wet as they were, the boys did not forget their carefully instilled training, and each came to attention and saluted as they faced the officer of the deck.
"Who are you men?" demanded that dignitary, red tape not allowing him to comment on the accident.
"Recruits, s-s-sir, from Newport T-T-T-Training School," answered Ned respectfully, his teeth chattering.
"Get on dry clothes and report to the master-at-arms. Messenger!"
A messenger slid to the officer's side with a hand raised in salute.
"Show these recruits to their quarters. Let them get on dry clothes and then conduct them to the master-at-arms."
As the boys' suitcases had by this time been hoisted on board, they soon changed into dry uniforms in the men's quarters forward, and their conductor then beckoned them to follow him. The two boys, their eyes round with astonishment at the sights and scenes about them, followed without a word, and were led through labyrinths of steel-walled passages, down steel ladders with glistening steel hand rails, up more ladders, and through bulkhead doors made to open and close with ponderous machinery. The lower decks of the ship were lighted with hundreds of incandescent bulbs, as, in a modern man-of-war, there are no portholes on the sides, owing to the thickness of the armorplate. The officers' cabins are lighted by lozenges of glass let into the deck.
"It's like living in a fire-proof safe," whispered Herc.
The boys noticed that, although they seemed to be in a steel-walled maze, that the air wasfresh and cool, and they discovered afterward that large quantities of fresh ozone were distributed into every part of the ship by electric blowers. For the present, however, they followed their guide in a sort of semi-stupefaction at the novelty of their surroundings.
"Say, we must have walked a mile," gasped Herc, as their guide finally emerged into a narrow passage seemingly in the stern of the vessel. He paused before a door hung with heavy curtains and knocked.
"What is it?" demanded a voice from inside. "A voice as pleasant as an explosion of dynamite," Herc described it afterward.
"Two recruits, sir," was the reply.
"Send them in."
The boys found themselves in the presence of the master-at-arms, a dignified and business-like officer.
"Your papers?" he demanded, without further parley.
"Here, sir," answered both boys, producing their precious certificates from the training school.
The master-at-arms glanced over them.
"You seem to have good records," he remarked, "but don't presume on them. You have a lot to learn. Messenger!"
The messenger sprang to attention and saluted, and the boys, not to be outdone in politeness, did likewise.
"Sir!"
"Take these two recruits to the ship's writer, and have him enter them in the ship's records."
Once more the threading of the metal labyrinth began, and the boys felt almost ready to drop as they were ushered into another cabin, where sat a man not unlike the master-at-arms in appearance, but who wore spectacles perched on his nose.
He took the boys' papers without a word and filed them away in a pigeonhole. He then produced two varnished ditty boxes, with their keys, which he handed to the boys.
"These are your ditty boxes," he remarked, handing over the caskets, which were about a foot and a half square, neatly varnished and finished, and each of which bore a number.
"You are to keep your valuables, stationery and knicknacks of any kind in these," he said. "Be careful of them and look after them well."
"What about our money, sir?" asked Ned.
"You can place that in the ship's savings bank if you wish. It gives four per cent. Or, if you prefer, you can deposit it with the ship's paymaster, and draw on it as you require. If you are transferred to another ship, it will be transferred for you."
"I think the savings bank would be best," said Ned, looking at Herc.
"Same here," replied the farmboy; "gran'pa used to say, 'put your money in hogs,' but I guess we couldn't do that aboard ship, so it's the savings banks for me, too."
"Very well; you may leave your money with me and I will give you a passbook. You see, we do these things much as they are done ashore."
"I see," nodded Ned as he took his passbook, and Herc did the same, "what do we do now, sir?"
"You will now be conducted to the boatswain's mate, who is a sort of foster-parent to young recruits, and from him you will get the numbers of your hammocks and be assigned to a place at mess. He will also outline your duties to you.
"Messenger!"
"Sir!"
Once more the messenger came to salute, and stiffened in the attitude of attention, and the boys did the same.
"Conduct these recruits to the chief boatswain's mate."
"Yes, sir."
"Off again," whispered Herc, as the messenger once more darted off with the boys in tow.