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[Illustration: AN INSTANT LATER THERE WAS A VERITABLE FOUNTAIN OF EARTH
AND STONES SENT UP INTO THE AIR.]
TWO BOYS OF
THE BATTLESHIP
Or
For the Honor of Uncle Sam
BY
FRANK V. WEBSTER
AUTHOR OF "ONLY A FARM BOY," "THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS,"
"AIRSHIP ANDY," "TOM TAYLOR AT WEST POINT,"
"COWBOY DAVE," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
BOOKS FOR BOYS
By FRANK V. WEBSTER
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
ONLY A FARM BOY
TOM, THE TELEPHONE BOY
THE BOY FROM THE RANCH
THE YOUNG TREASURER HUNTER
BOB, THE CASTAWAY
THE YOUNG FIREMEN OF LAKEVILLE
THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS
THE BOY PILOT OF THE LAKES
THE TWO BOY GOLD MINERS
JACK, THE RUNAWAY
COMRADES OF THE SADDLE
THE BOYS OF BELLWOOD SCHOOL
THE HIGH SCHOOL RIVALS
BOB CHESTER'S GRIT
AIRSHIP ANDY
DARRY, THE LIFE SAVER
DICK, THE BANK BOY
BEN HARDY'S FLYING MACHINE
THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS
HARRY WATSON'S HIGH SCHOOL DAYS
THE BOY SCOUTS OF LENOX
TOM TAYLOR AT WEST POINT
COWBOY DAVE
TWO BOYS OF THE BATTLESHIP
JACK OF THE PONY EXPRESS
Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York
Copyright, 1915, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
TWO BOYS OF THE BATTLESHIP
Printed in U.S.A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. In the Storm 1
II. Political Complications 9
III. Under Arrest 17
IV. Shifting for Themselves 26
V. In New York 32
VI. Robbed 38
VII. "Let's Enlist!" 46
VIII. Joining the Navy 54
IX. At the Training Station 62
X. In Barracks 68
XI. "All Aboard!" 77
XII. The Cut Ropes 85
XIII. Target Practice 94
XIV. A Brave Act 103
XV. Ordered South 110
XVI. Heavy Seas 115
XVII. A Chase 124
XVIII. Big Guns Boom 133
XIX. Ashore 140
XX. The Riot 149
XXI. Unexpected News 158
XXII. The Pursuit 169
XXIII. Overboard 177
XXIV. The Missing Box 186
XXV. Cleared 199
TWO BOYS OF THE BATTLESHIP
CHAPTER I--IN THE STORM
"Say, Frank, it's certainly getting pretty bad; isn't it?"
"Well, Ned, it surely isn't getting any better. I'm positive of that.
Look out! Here comes a big comber!"
There was a surge of green, foam-capped water, which looked as if it
would engulf and overwhelm the dory motor boat, in which crouched two
youths, one about eighteen, and the other slightly older.
"Hold her nose right into it, Frank!" cried the younger lad, who was
bending over the laboring motor.
"That's what I'm doing," was the answer of his brother, "Whoop! Some
water came aboard that time!"
The dory, built for rough work in the open sea, did not actually ship
the wave, for her high and peculiarly built bow and stern were intended
to meet just such emergencies, but there was a heavy storm brewing, and
the wind whipped enough water off the top of the big wave to make three
or four inches in the bottom of the craft.
"Think we can make the inlet, Frank?" inquired Ned Arden rather
anxiously, as he straightened up, for now that the one big wave had been
successfully coped with, there would be a short period of calm in the
turmoil of the sea.
"Sure we'll make it!" asserted Frank, as he shifted the wheel slightly
to meet another comber, though not so large as the former one. "Of
course we'll make it. But I don't mind admitting that I wish we were in
the bay right now. The storm broke sooner than I thought it would."
"But we've got a good boat," Ned remarked, as he made a slight
adjustment to the oil cups, to feed a little more of the lubricant to
the toiling motor, which was enclosed in a sort of box amidships of the
dory. Ned replaced the cover of the motor compartment and braced himself
on a locker seat near his brother.
"Yes, a fine boat," agreed Frank. "She'll weather a worse storm than
this."
"Not worse than this is going to be," insisted Ned, as he looked up at
the gray and leaden sky above them. The strong wind was sweeping along,
snipping off patches of salty spray from the tops of the waves, sending
it with stinging force into the faces of the two boys. Overhead masses
of black clouds scudded across the general gray surface of the sky. As
yet there had been no rain, but Frank and Ned Arden were as wet from the
spray as though there were a veritable downpour.
"Well, I'd trust this tub almost anywhere," Frank said, rising slightly
to peer ahead that he might see where to steer, for the atmosphere was
thickening as the storm developed more and more. "She's proved what she
can do, Ned, and we don't need to be afraid as long as she holds
together and the motor keeps working."
"That's the only trouble," Ned replied; "the motor. If she goes back on
us and we lose headway, we'll get into the trough of the sea, and then
it will be all up with us," and he laughed grimly.
"Don't borrow trouble," advised the elder lad. "The motor isn't going
back on us. She isn't that kind."
"One cylinder missed a couple of times, though."
"Yes, the gasoline isn't as good as it ought to be. I'm not going to get
any more of it from Pierson. Look out, Ned! Here comes another!"
The boys crouched and turned their backs as their boat went slapping her
way through another big wave. For a moment they could scarcely see
because of the salty spray that filled the air, but they shook their
heads to rid their faces of water, and looked eagerly, and somewhat
anxiously, first into the interior of their craft to see how much water
she had shipped, and then both peered, somewhat apprehensively, toward a
long, low-lying body of land toward which they were urging their boat.
"It's a good bit off yet," said Ned, as he pointed toward Fire Island.
"Yes, but don't worry. We'll make it," his brother reassured him. "Guess
I'll start the bilge pump. No use having all this water sloshing around
our feet."
"I'll start the pump. You keep to the wheel," answered Ned. "I don't
want to try my hand at steering just at the present time. Say, this is
some storm!"
The younger lad threw into gear a small auxiliary pump attached to the
motor. This pump was designed to free the boat of water, for Frank and
Ned Arden often went some distance out to sea in their craft, and more
than once they had shipped enough water to make them not only
uncomfortable, but to put them in danger. So, to avoid the heavy and
tiring work of baling, they had installed a small but powerful pump.
This the motor was soon operating, sending the water over the side by
means of a small hose.
"That's better," observed Frank, when the interior of the dory was
almost free from the fluid. "Shut off the pump now, Ned. I want all the
power of the motor I can get."
"Why, aren't we holding our own?"
"Yes, but not much more than that. The tide's running strong, and it
will be worse when we get to the inlet."
Ned peered through the gloom caused by the lowering storm-clouds, and
sought to read his brother's face. Ned was not afraid, nor a coward, but
if there was danger ahead he wanted to be prepared for the worst.
However, the countenance of Frank showed no unusual anxiety, though his
lips were firmly and grimly closed. Frank would drive on through the
storm, and if it were humanly possible he would bring the boat safely
through the inlet of Fire Island and into the quiet and protected waters
of Great South Bay.
Frank and Ned Arden lived with their uncle, Philip Arden, just outside
the town of Ipswhich, Long Island. Their home was a large, old-fashioned
house, and the grounds extended down to the beach of the Great South
Bay, on the waters of which the lads spent much of their time.
They loved the sea, and from the time they were small boys and could
barely swim, they fairly reveled in its saltiness, and were out on the
bay or ocean in calm and storm.
At first they had been allowed to go only a little way from shore in a
safe, but big and clumsy row boat. Then, as they became older and more
experienced, they secured a better craft, and even ventured to cross the
stretch of water which lay between the mainland of Long Island and Fire
Island, that long, narrow strip of land which has been the cause of so
many wrecks. On one side of Fire Island pounds the never quiet waves of
the ocean, while on the other side, only a few minutes' walk distant,
are the calm and shallow waters of the bay. The bay and ocean are
connected by several inlets, and the one for which Frank and Ned were
heading was the one near Fire Island Light.
Once through that and in the quiet bay, it would be a small matter to
make the run to their dock in their speedy motor dory.
They had had this boat about six months, purchasing it for their
pleasure, for they were quite well off. It was not the first motor craft
they had owned, but it was the one they liked best, for they could
venture out on the open sea with it.
"And in quite a storm, too," said Frank, speaking of the matter. "But we
certainly have given it a good test to-day," he added to his brother.
"She's shown what she can do."
"That's what she has, old man. But we're almost at the inlet now; aren't
we?"
"Yes, a few minutes now. Wow! Here comes the rain!"
The storm, having lashed itself up to a certain point, now added a
deluge of rain to the gale of wind, and the darkness increased.
The dory rose and fell, occasionally her propeller being out of the
water so that it raced. Frank and Ned braced themselves against the
rolling, pitching and tossing motion, Frank now and then raising himself
to peer ahead to mark a course for steering.
"Better start the pump again!" he shouted into his brother's ear. "We've
more water in her than I like to see."
"Thought you said we'd need all our power to make the inlet."
"So we will. But you can run the pump a few minutes before we'll have to
buck the tide. Shut her off when I tell you."
The two boys gave their attention to managing their craft now. Gradually
she was emptied of water again, and, at a nod from Frank, Ned
disconnected the pump gears. As he stood up after doing this, he saw, on
the open sea back of him and about two miles off shore, a dark mass
which seemed shrouded in smoke.
"Look Frank!" he cried. "A ship on fire!"
Frank gave a quick glance.
"No!" he answered, raising his voice to make it heard above the roar of
the wind and the swish of the rain, "that's a battleship--the _Texas_, I
think. I read she was to pass down this way. Yes, that's what it is--one
of Uncle Sam's battleships! Say, I wish we were nearer and could get a
better view. Isn't that great!" and Frank, with shining eyes, looked
earnestly in the direction of the big craft which moved along over the
tempestuous sea as though no strife nor storm could produce an
impression on her.
"It sure is great!" agreed Ned. "Say, Frank, do you know what my one
ambition is?"
"Well, you change so often that it's hard to keep track."
"I've never changed from this one. I'd like to be a sailor on a
battleship."
"So would I, Ned! I've never talked much about it, because it didn't
seem of much use. Uncle Phil would never let us. But if I ever get the
chance I'm going to have a try at life on a battleship."
"And I'm with you, Frank!" Ned eagerly cried. "Only I guess there isn't
much chance. We've got to finish at college, I suppose, and then buckle
down to business. But it's the sea for mine every time, and every chance
I get!"
"Same here. Now look out for things, Ned. We're going through the inlet.
And say, maybe the tide isn't running strong!"