While the meeting of the Triangle Club was going on at the Grays’ farm,
Mr. Wentworth went ashore with the yeoman,--Bob Brackett--to meet a new
boy who was to join the ship that afternoon.
As soon as they had arrived at the landing, however, they were
approached by a tall, elderly man who looked as if he had come from
the country, and had rather a small boy at his side in the Land Scout
uniform.
“My name is Jackson,” said he, addressing Mr. Wentworth, “and I have
brought my nephew, William Brown, for whom, I understand, a berth has
been reserved on the _Bright Wing_.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Mr. Wentworth cordially, “and I am very much
obliged to you for being on hand so promptly, for you have saved me the
trouble of looking you up at the hotel.”
After shaking hands, Mr. Wentworth turned to Brown with a friendly nod,
and then, facing Bob, he said:
“This boy with the mail bag, Brown, is our yeoman, and we shall have
to wait until he has been to the post office, before returning to the
ship. Do you think, Mr. Jackson, that your nephew would like to go to
the post office with the yeoman? It might be pleasant for him to make
friends with one of the crew before he goes aboard.”
Mr. Jackson assented, and Billy Brown saluted awkwardly by throwing his
arm out on one side and then bringing it up to the back of his head.
“He’s a queer duck,” thought Bob, but his meditations were interrupted
by Mr. Wentworth.
“You can go now, Yeoman, and be as quick as you can. Remember you are
on duty, and you have no other errand but to post the outgoing and to
fetch the incoming mail.”
Mr. Wentworth spoke with decision; but his tone was so friendly that
any boy would have felt inclined to obey him.
The two scouts went off together at a smart pace; and, as they walked
up the street, Mr. Wentworth noticed a great contrast in the way they
held themselves. The same thought seemed to have entered Mr. Jackson’s
mind.
“I’m in great hopes,” he said, “that the drill and discipline on the
_Bright Wing_ may improve Billy’s physical condition. He is a studious
boy, but he does not get enough fun or activity out of doors.”
“I understand, sir,” said Mr. Wentworth; “he has an intelligent face
and a good bright eye, but his body isn’t well gathered together. He
seems to have a little stoop in the shoulders. For how long is he to be
on board, sir?”
“His berth is engaged for two weeks, but if there is room for him, he
might possibly stay longer.”
“Well,” said Mr. Wentworth, “a good deal can be done in two weeks
if a boy is intelligent and willing,--I mean in the way of a start.
A good brain and willing disposition are the best sort of help to a
boy for getting his body into shape; for, if he can get a strong idea
of physical balance into his mind, it will give him an interest in
keeping his body up to the mark. But, of course, he needs practice and
exercise, too. I understand, sir, that you are also coming on board?”
“Yes,” replied Mr. Jackson, “I’m going as far as Provincetown, and then
I shall have to take the train for home. I have not had a good sail for
many years, and am looking forward with great pleasure to being on a
Boy Scout ship.”
Mr. Wentworth was very glad of this opportunity to find out the special
needs of the new boy, and he looked forward particularly to reporting
everything he had learned to the Chairman and Mr. Miller.
“I shouldn’t wonder,” thought he to himself, “if we made a good
light-weight boxer of the lad before he leaves the ship; but the main
thing is to teach him to gather himself together and to swim and row
well.” He had a quick eye for such things.
The conversation had not continued much longer when Bob and Billy
reappeared with a heavy load of letters and bundles in the mail bag.
Fred Hamilton, the boatswain, was in charge of the launch that lay
alongside the landing. Mr. Wentworth ordered the boys into her stern,
and then got in himself to give Mr. Jackson a hand. He then went
forward to the wheel and the boatswain stood by the engine.
When they returned to the ship, it was recreation hour, and the music
of the “ship’s band” greeted the newcomers across the water. Half a
dozen hands were stretched over the side to catch the painter of the
launch as she approached the side ladder. The Chairman and the Captain
were standing on deck ready to welcome Mr. Jackson.
Bob immediately took the mail below and sorted it out according to
regulations, while Mr. Wentworth went to the clothes locker to find a
suit of “whites”, and a blue working suit to fit the new apprentice
seaman, William Brown.
Billy’s “Station Billet” was made out within half an hour from the time
he arrived, and Bob was detailed to explain it to him.
Billy made out that he was Number 6 in the Second Division, Second
Section, which was in charge of Harold French, as “B. M.”, and Bob
offered to take him to French so that he could report at once.
French looked him over quietly and then said, “You know how to swim, I
suppose?”
“Yes,” said Billy, “I’ve done my fifty yards.”
“How about diving?” asked French.
Billy put his hand on his stomach with a smile and said with a peculiar
drawl, “I’ve had a good many slaps right here. I’m not much good at
that.”
“Probably you don’t swim under water, then,” replied the “B. M.”
“No,” said Billy, “and we never went beyond our depth where I learned
swimming.”
“Well,” said French, “we’ll have to go with you under water the first
chance we get, and I guess we can teach you a thing or two.”
Billy answered these questions with a deliberate air and without
any evidence of being ill at ease. He evidently was in the habit of
thinking before he spoke, and carefully listening to what was said;
and, although his carriage was poor and his physique not particularly
strong, French liked the clear, steady look in his eyes.
As Billy was turning away, the “B. M.” called after him, “Say, young
fellow, have you put your things into your locker and got them in order
yet?”
“Yes,” replied Brown.
“Well,” said the “B. M.”, looking at his watch, “we’ve got twenty-five
minutes before prayers, and I guess we can go forward and have ten
minutes’ drill.”
Then he turned for a minute to Dick Gray who had just returned on
board, and said in an undertone: “You just keep an eye on him, Dick,
and show him the ropes.”
At that moment there happened to be nobody on the forward deck, so
that French and Billy and Dick had it all to themselves. French gave
his commands in a comparatively subdued voice, so as not to attract
a crowd, and then suggested to Brown a few simple ideas about the
attitude of respectful attention and the significance of it in the
daily life of a scout, while Dick took the position to illustrate what
French meant.
Billy was rather awkward, and his large round eyeglasses and prominent
ears gave him a queer look of somehow being out of place in his new
surroundings; but French noticed that he seemed to enjoy the drill and
to take a genuine interest in what he was being taught.
“Heels together, little finger on the seam of your trousers, chest
up, stomach in,--don’t bend backwards, balance on the instep--neck
straight, chin in. There, sonny, that’s the way you want to hold
yourself at quarters, or any time ‘at attention.’ But you can’t expect
to do it easily without teaching your body to be strong in the right
places. You seem kind of soft now, and here’s a little medicine that
will help harden you a bit.”
Then he and Dick showed him an exercise in deep breathing and
stretching. “Do that six times, two or three times a day, and I guess
it will give you a lift,” said French.
Billy thought of thanking French, but somehow or other felt that his
gratitude would not be appreciated,--or else that he had better show
it by making progress rather than by words,--so he drew himself up
straight and waited to see what was going to happen next. Just then the
boatswain’s call sounded out sharp for prayers, and they all went down
the companionway to the berth deck.
Billy’s locker and bunk were not far from Dick’s, and after “tattoo”
they undressed together and talked about a number of things that had
aroused Billy’s curiosity. They were interrupted by the sounding of
“taps”; and a minute after Bertie Young, the master-at-arms, made his
rounds to see that all were in their bunks and that everything was
quiet.
“He knows mighty little about a vessel,” thought Dick, as he turned
over in his bunk, “but he’s a great one for asking questions, and I
shouldn’t wonder if he knew the whole thing before long.”
In the next bunk but one, Billy lay thinking about the farm and the
home folks. “I wonder,” thought he, “whether Roger has remembered the
special feed for the calf.” Then, in another minute, he was thinking of
the ship again, and of his present surroundings, and wondered how he
could have come into so entirely different a world within only fifty
miles of the world he had left behind him. “There are lots of things on
board this ship,” thought he, “that I never heard of in my life; but
I’ll do my best to learn every one of them, and won’t the boys at home
be surprised!”