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The Battleship Boys at Sea
OR
Two Apprentices in Uncle Sam's Navy
By
FRANK GEE PATCHIN
Author of The Battleship Boys' First Step Upward,
The Pony Rider Boys Series, Etc.
Illustrated
PHILADELPHIA
HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Lure of the Battleship 7
II. In Uncle Sam's Navy 27
III. Who Threw the Pie? 35
IV. Piping up Hammocks 43
V. Trying Out Their Grit 50
VI. In the Midst of the Battle 60
VII. The Red-Headed Boy's Surprise 69
VIII. On the Rifle Range 74
IX. Betrayed by a Streak of Red 86
X. Their First Detail 94
XI. On Board a Battleship 102
XII. In the Deck Division 118
XIII. Resenting an Insult 125
XIV. Called Before the Mast 132
XV. A Badly Banged-up Bully 144
XVI. Receiving a Challenge 154
XVII. Proving His Courage 165
XVIII. The Orderly Takes a Header 180
XIX. The Work of an Enemy 193
XX. Out on the Mine Field 200
XXI. Breaking the Record 208
XXII. Buried Three Fathoms Deep 217
XXIII. Heroes to the Rescue 224
XXIV. Conclusion 236
THE BATTLESHIP BOYS AT SEA
CHAPTER I--THE LURE OF THE BATTLESHIP
"That must be the place over there, Sam."
"Where?"
"Just across the street on the next block. I see something in front of
the building that looks like the picture we saw in the post office at
home."
Dan Davis turned to a passing policeman and, respectfully touching his
hat, asked:
"Will you tell us, sir, where we may find the United States Navy
recruiting station?"
The policeman pointed to the building in front of which Dan's eyes had
caught sight of a highly colored lithograph.
"Thank you, sir. Come on, Sam; I was right. That is the place we are
looking for. See that flag up there in the third story window? That's
the flag you and I are going to serve under if we are lucky enough to be
accepted."
Sam Hickey nodded and started after his companion across the street. A
moment later the lads stood before the picture that had attracted their
attention. In the foreground of the picture stood a sailor clad in the
uniform of a seaman in Uncle Sam's Navy, while on beyond him, in the
distant background, lay a white battleship, the Stars and Stripes
floating from her after staff, a line of signal flags fluttering from
the signal halyard just aft of the battleship's navigating bridge. Palm
trees and similar foliage showed it to be a tropical scene.
For several moments the lads stood gazing on the picture with fascinated
interest. Each seemed unable to withdraw his gaze from it. At last, with
a deep sigh, Dan turned his shining eyes upon his young companion.
"Isn't it beautiful, Sam?" he breathed.
"What, the sailor?"
"I was not thinking of the sailor; I was thinking of the ship--the
battleship--and that Flag floating there, the most beautiful Flag in the
world. At least I guess it must be. I've never seen any of the other
flags, except in pictures, but that one is handsome enough for me. Shall
we go upstairs to the recruiting office now?"
"Don't be in a hurry," objected Sam. "I want to look at the picture some
more."
"We can do that afterwards. The first thing is to see whether we shall
be able to enlist. This letter that I got from the station says we have
to be examined, though I don't know just what sort of examination they
will give us."
Sam Hickey still lingered.
"Are you coming, Sam?"
"No."
"Not coming?"
"No; I've changed my mind."
"I don't understand," rejoined Dan, a puzzled expression in his eyes.
"I guess I do not want to enlist. I think I shall go back home to
Piedmont."
"Look here, Sam Hickey, you will do nothing of the sort! We came down
here to enlist in the Navy and that is exactly what we are going to do,
providing they will have us. You say you are going back home. How do you
expect to get there?"
"The way we came--on a train, of course."
Dan smiled grimly.
"I guess not. You forget that we have no money left--that is, not more
than enough with which to buy one more meal."
"I can walk," grumbled Sam.
"No, you cannot. We are three hundred miles from Piedmont. Why do you
wish to back out at this late hour? You were so anxious to enlist, and
now you are talking the other way. Why?"
"I've changed my mind; that's all."
Dan grasped his companion firmly by the arm.
"You come along with me! You have changed your mind too late this time."
Sam hesitated, then reluctantly accompanied his companion up the stairs.
A few moments later, they were knocking at the door of the recruiting
office.
Sam Hickey felt a strong inclination to bolt, and no doubt he would have
done so had it not been for the firm grip on his arm. He ran one hand
nervously through his shock of red hair, shifted his weight from one
foot to the other and muttered something that was unintelligible to his
companion.
But Dan's ears were keenly alert for the response to his summons, and he
straightened up ever so little as he heard footsteps approaching the
door.
It had been the dream of these two young American boys for many months
to join the Navy. They had talked and talked of the day when they should
have arrived at the age that permitted them to make application for
admission to the service. A few weeks before reaching the legal age,
which is seventeen, each had received a letter from a recruiting station
in New York City pointing out the advantages that the service offers to
young Americans.
Correspondence had been immediately opened with the recruiting office,
with the result that the lads made their preparations to go directly to
New York City and present themselves at the recruiting station.
Dan, who lived with his widowed mother, was a clerk in the general store
in his home town; while Sam, an orphan, had been serving an
apprenticeship in a small machine shop. It had been therefore no small
effort for the boys to get together enough money for their expenses to
the metropolis; and, as already stated, they were now practically at the
end of their resources. But this did not discourage them.
"If we are rejected we shall be able to find something to do in New York
that will let us earn enough money to take us back home," Dan had
declared resolutely, his pale face lighting up, his eyes sparkling with
purpose and determination.
"Yes; I had just as lief work in New York as in Piedmont," agreed Sam.
"I hope, Sam, we shall have to do neither."
The door was thrown open abruptly, and the boys found themselves
confronted by a middle-aged man clad in a blue suit. On the right sleeve
he wore three bright red chevrons enclosing a white pilot wheel,
surmounted by a white eagle, showing that he was a quartermaster in the
United States Navy.
"Well, what is it?" he demanded rather brusquely.
"We wish to join the Navy, sir," answered Dan firmly.
The quartermaster surveyed the lads keenly.
"Come inside," he said.
The boys entered the waiting room, where they were directed to seat
themselves at a table. A printed blank form was placed before each.
"Fill out those applications," directed the petty officer who had
admitted them. "If your answers to the questions are satisfactory you
will be asked some further questions; then we shall have you examined."
Having spent three years in high school, after finishing at the grammar
school, the boys found themselves well able to fill out the application
blanks without having to ask questions of the quartermaster. This they
did with much care, giving such facts about themselves as the
application blank demanded.
Sam nudged his companion.
"See that man sitting over there to the left of you?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I think he must be a general or something of the sort."
"Humph! There's only one general in the Navy, and he is in the Marine
Corps," answered Dan reprovingly. "I know what that officer is."
"What is he, then, if you know so much?"
"He is a commander."
"How do you know?"
"I know by the three gold stripes on his sleeve. If he had two and a
half stripes there he would be a lieutenant-commander. If he had four he
would be a captain."
Sam looked incredulous.
"How do you happen to know all about that?"
"I read about it in a dictionary. They were all pictured out there. I
know a lot more of them, too, only I'm too busy to tell you about them
now. Have you finished filling out your blank?"
"Not quite."
"Then you had better get busy. If we take too much time it _may_ count
against us. I don't know about it for sure."
For several minutes thereafter the lads wrote industriously. Dan was the
first to lay down his pen, waiting in silence for his companion to
finish, which Sam did shortly afterwards.
"What shall we do now?" questioned Sam, glancing up into the face of his
friend.
"I do not know. Give me your paper and I will hand both to the officer
over there."
Dan stepped to the commander's desk, handing the applications to him.
"What's this?" demanded the commander sharply.
"They are our applications, sir."
"Give them to the quartermaster."
"Yes, sir," answered Dan respectfully, turning away. As he did so, the
eyes of the commander were fixed inquiringly upon him.
"That is a likely looking lad," muttered the officer. "In fact, they
both look like excellent material--good, clean-cut American boys--just the
sort of material the United States Navy is looking for."
In the meantime Dan had stepped to the door through which he had
observed the petty officer who had first greeted them, and walked
towards him.
"Here are our papers, sir. What are we to do next?"
"Go back and sit down. I'll tell you when we want you."
The quartermaster seated himself at a desk, where he went over the
applications carefully. He looked them over a second time, nodded
approvingly, then glanced up quickly at the flushed, expectant faces of
the two lads.
"You men come with me," he said, rising.
"He called us 'men.' Did you hear it? I guess we are, all right,"
whispered Sam.
The quartermaster conducted them into an adjoining room, where they were
turned over to the examining surgeon, who, after scanning their
applications, began asking them pointed questions about their parents
and their life. In fact, he asked more questions than either lad knew
how to answer, for the inquiry went back more years than they had lived.
The examination lasted fully an hour, after which the lads were directed
to return to the room where they had filled out their applications.
"He knows more about me than I ever thought there was to know," confided
Sam to his companion.
Just then the surgeon came hurrying in. He laid their applications on
the desk before the commander, engaging in earnest conversation with
that officer.
"I think they are going to turn us out," whispered Dan.
"I hope they do," grumbled Sam, brushing a hand across his freckled
cheek. "I don't see why they have to go through all this rigmarole.
Reminds me of the time they tried a fellow up in our place for stealing
a yearling heifer."
"It is well worth the rigmarole if we can get in," answered Dan,
ignoring the comparison. "I do not care how much they put us through.
And, besides, it proves that everybody cannot get into Uncle Sam's Navy.
A fellow has got to be a real man if he wants to be a jackie these
days," added Dan somewhat proudly. "I wonder what they are talking
about?"
"We'll know in a minute. There comes that quartermaster fellow,"
answered Sam.
The lads rose as he stepped up to them.
"Have we passed?" questioned Dan, unable to repress his anxiety.
"Your examination has been satisfactory, but the commander desires to
speak with you. That is the commander at the roll top desk yonder. Step
over, but be very respectful. Remember, he is an officer in the United
States Navy, and----"
"We are not likely to forget that we are young gentlemen, sir,"
interrupted Dan, flushing slightly.
The lads walked over to the commander's desk, where Dan, with heels
together, made a correct military salute, raising the right hand smartly
till the tip of the forefinger touched the forehead just above the right
eye, then dropping the arm smartly to his side.
Sam did the same, but rather more clumsily.
Instantly the commander's right hand went up in a return salute, while
the faces of the boys flushed rosy red.
"You have had some previous military instruction?" asked the commander,
with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Nothing very much, sir," replied Dan. "We belong to the village fire
company at home--that is all."
The commander smiled.
"You are a pair of very likely lads."
"Have we passed, sir?"
"You have."
"Oh, I'm so glad!" breathed Dan, unable to conceal his delight.
"Then--then we are in the Navy?" stammered Sam.
"Not quite. You will be, very soon, providing you have fulfilled all the
requirements."
"What are we to do?"
"Have you the consent--the written consent--of your parents?"
"Yes, sir. That is, I have my mother's consent. My friend, Sam, here,
has no parents."
"Has he a guardian?"
"Yes, sir."
"And has his guardian given his written consent also?"
"He has, sir."
"Let me have both of them."
The papers were handed to the commander, who perused them carefully.
"How did you lads chance to come so well prepared?"
"We had written to find out, so that we might not be disappointed when
we got here. We could not afford to make the trip back home, so we did
what we could before coming on."
"You did well. Young men, I am proud to see lads of your type entering
the service. I predict for you both a rapid rise. You will, of course,
meet with hardships. These are a part of the life, but it is a noble
career, and if you are the lads I believe you to be you will overcome
all these things. You have in you the making of splendid men, and the
United States Navy will surely bring out every dormant good quality that
you may possess."
"Thank you, sir; we shall do our best," answered Dan.
"I am sure of that."
"What are we to do now, if it is proper to ask?"
"You will be furnished with transportation to Newport, R. I., where you
will go to-night. You will enter the apprentice training school there.
After a course of three months, if qualified, you will be given an
assignment on one of the ships of the fleet. You understand, you will
enter the training school as apprentices. While there you will receive a
salary of seventeen dollars and sixty cents a month. Your board and
lodging, of course, will be furnished by the government, as will your
uniforms and equipment."
"Thank you, sir," reiterated Dan.
The commander then administered the oath of allegiance to the lads in
slow, impressive tones, while they stood rigidly at attention, their
eyes fixed upon his.
"You will now report to the quartermaster," announced the commander
after the lads had subscribed to the oath. "I shall expect to hear good
reports from you, my lads." He cordially extended a hand to each, much
to the amazement of the quartermaster, who never had seen his commander
do that to an apprentice before.
The remaining details were disposed of in a very few minutes thereafter,
and the boys made their way downstairs, out into the street,
light-hearted and happy.
"Look!" cried Dan, pointing off to the East River.
"What is it?"
"It's a war ship. I wonder which one it is. Can you tell me, sir, what
ship that is?" asked Dan of a passer-by.
"That is the United States battleship 'Idaho,'" was the answer.
"I wonder if we ever will be placed on a ship like that," mused Dan,
gazing in fascinated interest at the slow-moving vessel as she plowed
her way under the Brooklyn bridge, heading for the open sea.
Dan Davis drew a long sigh.
"Come," he said.
"Where?"
"Somewhere where we can spend our last fifty cents for a meal. That will
be the last meal we shall have until we get to Newport. Then we will
look about some. We have several hours before the boat leaves. We shall
probably get lost the first thing we do, but we have plenty of time in
which to find ourselves," added Dan, with a short laugh.
Naturally, the ships that lined one side of South Street, along which
they were strolling, held the greatest interest for them. There were
sailing ships from the four quarters of the globe, tramp steamers,
coasters from southern ports, interspersed with ferry boats and tug
boats of every size and class. There was such a confusion of craft that
the boys could scarcely make out one from the other.
They had reached a cross street, up which they decided to turn, having
learned that it would lead them to Broadway, which thoroughfare they
were anxious to see, when there occurred an interruption that changed
their plans entirely for the time being.
Sam had paused beside a little two-wheeled cart to purchase an apple
from an old woman who had asked him to buy. He had just handed over his
nickel for the apple when a crowd of firemen from a tramp steamer came
rolling up the street, the grime of the stoke hole still on their faces.
Freed from the restraint of their floating prison, the men were
hilarious and bent on mischief. But neither of the lads observed them,
nor did they hear the shouts and songs of the stokers above the roar of
the traffic in the busy street.
The first intimation the boys had that trouble was abroad was when a
hulking stoker let fly a heavily booted foot at the little apple wagon.
His aim was true. Up shot the wagon, apples flying in all directions,
showering over the heads of the lads and into the muddy gutter. The
apple wagon itself turned bottom upward, landing fairly on the head of
the aged woman, carrying her down with it, and flattening her in the
gutter amid the ruin of her precious wares.
Sam wheeled like a flash. The freckles on his now pale face seemed to
stand out like scars.
Without an instant's hesitation he let go a fist.
It caught the stoker fairly on the side of the jaw. The fellow dropped
as if he had been shot, his face burrowing in the mud of the gutter,
where he lay motionless for a few seconds.
So astonished were his companions that for the moment they stood gaping.
Then the humor of the situation seemed to strike them all at once. All
hands broke out into a roar of mirth. That a slender lad should have put
out one of their number was to them a huge joke.
Just as soon as he got over his bewilderment at having been so easily
handled by a boy, the stoker got to his feet.
He did not immediately follow up his intention of soundly trouncing that
forward youngster. This for the very simple reason that the stoker had
gone down on his face in the mud. Now he held more than a mouthful of
that plastic stuff. Growling, the stoker thrust two fingers of one hand
into his mouth, trying to force the sticky mess out.
"Fine, isn't it?" jeered Sam, cocking his head on one side and leering
comically.
"What?" queried one of the stoker's own mates, for the one who had just
struggled to his feet could not speak.
"Mud pies, of course," grinned Sam. "Healthful, nourishing and great
food, for they make you think and work. But only a hog would gulp down a
mouthful like that."
"I'll--whoof--make you eat some--ugh!--of that--br-r-r!--blamed--waugh!--mud
pie--gr-r-r!--o' your'n!" raged the humiliated stoker as he pawed out the
last remnants of that muddy mouthful.
Of a sudden the stoker, crouching low, made a vengeful bolt forward. But
he did not catch Sam Hickey unawares. That young man dodged, then landed
a second and harder blow on the fellow's jaw. This time Mr. Stoker
struck the mud puddle, again face downward, with a force that made the
man fairly bury his face in the ooze.
"Last call to the dining car!" yelled Sam, dancing about. "Gone back for
a second helping of mud pie! Wow, but it's good!"
This time the stoker did not regain his feet quite so soon. He had
measured his full length in the gutter again, where he lay stretched
out, none of his companions making an effort to assist their fallen
shipmate nor to avenge the blow that had laid him low.
"Right hot off the bat," jeered the stokers.
The fallen man was making desperate efforts to pull himself together
when a policeman laid a heavy hand on Sam Hickey's collar.
"That's the time I caught you in the act, young man. You come with me!"
commanded the officer sternly.
"You leggo of me! I'll do nothing of the sort," retorted the lad
belligerently, struggling to free himself, surprised at his inability to
throw off the officer's grip. It was Sam's first experience with a New
York policeman.
"Yes, let the kid go," shouted the crowd. "He's all right. He is a
winner, even if he did hand it out to a shipmate."
Dan edged his way around in front of the policeman. He saw that Sam's
lips were set tight and knew that this meant trouble.
"Take it easy, Sam," warned Dan in a low tone. "Officer, this boy has
done nothing worse than to punish a ruffian. It is the other man whom
you ought to arrest, if anyone."
"What's this you say? Don't you dare interfere with an officer, young
man, or in you go!"
"I am not interfering, sir."
"You are, but you'd better not."
"I am just trying to explain. That fellow there, picking himself up from
the ground, kicked the old apple woman's wagon into the air. See, she's
just crawling out from under it now. I should not be surprised if she
were hurt. Pretty much all her wares are spoiled, as you can see for
yourself."
"He did----"
"My friend Sam punched the fellow, but the man deserved it. I should
have done it myself if he had not, though I am sure I could not have
done so thorough a job."
"You--you say the stoker there kicked the old woman's cart over?"
questioned the policeman.
"Yes, sir."
"And your friend handed him one for it?"
"_Two_ of them."
"And who are you fellows, anyway?"
Dan gave the officer their names and addresses.
"What are you doing here?"
"We are sailors in the United States Navy," answered Dan proudly. "We
are on our way to the training station at Newport. You had better not
detain us, or there may be trouble."
The policeman grinned broadly.
"Beat it, then," he commanded, giving Sam a sudden shove that excited
that young man's anger somewhat. "Get out of here both of you, before I
run you in for disturbing the peace. Here, you stokers, you clear out,
too, and don't you let me catch you raising any more rows on my beat or
your ship will sail without you when she goes out again. Off with you!"
While all this had been happening, the old apple woman had been busily
engaged in gathering her stock in trade. The loss of a few dozen apples
would have been serious to her. But now she hobbled toward Hickey,
resting a withered hand on his coat sleeve.
"I--I don't know how to thank you, young man," she quavered.
"I'm glad you don't, ma'am," answered Sam, uncovering as quickly as
though the little old woman had been an admiral's wife. "The thanks of
the ladies always embarrass me, ma'am. But I'm glad I settled your bill
against that sea-going miner."
Now the two brand-new fighting men of the Navy edged quickly away from
the crowd that was growing every instant.
"Come on, Sam," urged Dan. "Let's go over and take a look at Broadway,"
linking his arm within that of his companion and leading him from the
scene. "We have begun our fighting career rather early, it strikes me."
"No; I've changed my mind. I don't want to go to Broadway," objected
Sam, pulling back.
"What do you wish to do?" demanded Dan suspiciously.
"I want to hang around here and see the fun," answered Hickey.
"Right about face! March!" commanded Dan.
Sam eyed his companion resentfully, then, turning sharply about, fell
into a military stride, with his face turned toward Broadway.