UNCLE SAM GETS TWO RAW RECRUITS.
Old Zack's daze was not dispelled the next morning when, having done
their work as usual, the boys set off to trudge the six miles into
Lambs' Corners.
"Will you be back to dinner?" the old man croaked, in such a quavering
voice that even Herc felt sorry for him.
"We'll be back before then, and make up the time we've lost before
night," Ned assured him, as the two cousins swung off to take what they
both felt was the final step of their resolve.
They had lain awake most of the night in the room they shared,
discussing the future, and had decided to abide by the decision they
had so hastily arrived at, whatever might happen.
"Things have come to the cross roads of opportunity," was the way Ned
put it, "we've got to strike out now and sink or swim."
During the course of their conversation it had occurred to Ned that in
reading over the printed matter beneath the picture which had attracted
their attention in the post office the day before, he had come across
instructions to ask the postmaster for a post card, which was free on
application. This card, when mailed to the Navy Department, so the
poster said, would bring the applicant additional information regarding
the navy, in the form of booklets and pamphlets.
As soon as the boys arrived in the postoffice they perceived that they
were the objects of very general scrutiny by the usual group assembled
'round the re-erected stove. They paid no attention to the comments of
the knot of spectators, however, but marched straight up to the little
pigeon hole, behind which Paul Stevens attended to the weighty matters
of the U. S. mail, and demanded two of the post cards the poster
mentioned. With a lifting of his eyebrows the postmaster handed them
out.
"Seems like everyone in the place is goin' ter enlist, or whatever you
call it," he remarked. "Hank Harkins was in here early to-day and got
one of them cards. I reckon he's thinking of getting a chore boy's job
in the navy, too."
This was news to the boys and not particularly welcome news, either.
They had no desire to come into further contact with the lumbering
Hank, but inasmuch as they had no control over his movements, they
accepted the situation with the best grace they could.
A few days later the literature arrived from Washington and the boys
put their heads together over it during their leisure time, examining
the prospects held out from every aspect. The result was, as might have
been expected, that their resolution became more firmly set than ever
and a week after they received the booklets and other information they
bade good-bye to old Zack, who had by this time acquired resignation
and a hired man, and started for the village whence they were to take
the stage to Granville, the railroad town.
As may be imagined, the boys felt little regret on leaving the farm
and old Zack, and were not hypocrites enough to pretend to any great
affection for their surroundings of so many monotonous years. Old Zack
wrung his hands and lamented, to be sure, but as the boys knew that
his grief was caused more by the loss of two husky helpers than by any
personal regret, they did not pay much attention to his protestations.
As they strode through the old farm gates there did come over them a
momentary twinge of feeling at the idea that the portals that they had
so often opened and shut as they went about their work, were closing
behind them for perhaps the last time. It was only a momentary emotion,
however, and was speedily dispelled by a shout of "Hey!" from old Zack,
who came running after them from the barn where he had spent the time
since, he had said good-by, in scolding the new hired man.
The two lads halted and set down their brand new suit-cases in the
dusty track.
"Say!" panted old Zack, clumsily loping up to them, and holding out
something in his withered fingers, "here's something you boys may need.
Take it, anyhow; I'll give it yer."
In his digits he extended to them the Canadian dime, rejected by the
postmaster on the afternoon of the disaster to the stove.
Hardly able to restrain their laughter, the boys accepted the gift with
becoming gravity, and once more said farewell to the old man.
"It'll do as a luck-piece, anyhow," laughed Ned, as they trudged on and
a turn in the road blotted out from their eyes the old farm-house, its
weather-beaten out-buildings and fertile fields. It was to be many a
day before they saw it again and many adventures, of which they little
dreamed at the moment, were to be experienced by them before they once
more encountered it.
In due time the stage reached the Granville ferry and five hours later
the railroad brought the two lads down the east bank of the Hudson
to New York. They stood dazed and confused outside the Grand Central
station looking with amazed eyes on the roar and confusion of traffic
that swirled by them. It was mid afternoon and they had yet to report
at the recruiting station, of which they had the address in their
pockets.
Ned stepped up to a policeman who stood at the crossing directing the
flow of traffic by blasts on a whistle.
He extended the piece of paper which bore the address: "U. S. Navy
Recruiting Station, No. 394 Bowery," on it.
"Can you please tell us how to get there?" he asked, somewhat
tremblingly. It was the first real live policeman he had ever
addressed, and the country boy felt somewhat awed.
"I'm a traffic cop. Ask the man on post," snapped the policeman. With
a sharp blast on his whistle he started the cross-town traffic, which
had halted, to moving again, paying no further attention to the tall
sun-burned lad with the shining new suit-case.
Somewhat taken aback at this reception, the lad looked at his companion
with a puzzled expression.
"I guess he regulates the traffic," suggested Herc, in response to the
silent query, "see that horse's head in a wheel embroidered on his arm?
Let's look for a policeman without that and I guess he'll be the right
man to inquire from."
Following Herc's suggestion Ned's eyes soon lighted on a stout bluecoat
who stood talking to a number of taxi-cab drivers and seemed to have
nothing to do with the regulation of traffic; or, in fact, anything
else. This time he got a quick answer to his question.
"394 Bowery," repeated the patrolman, "shure any one knows where that
is," and he looked at Ned and Herc pityingly as if they were some
strange sort of creatures and much to be sympathized with.
"Yes, officer, but we are strangers in the city, and----"
"Sure, any one could tell you were Rubes from the cut of your jibs,"
grinned the patrolman, while the taxi-cabbies set up a laugh. "Goin'
ter enlist in the navy, eh?" he went on, scrutinizing Ned's bit of
paper, "well, Heaven help ye. They'll feed ye on skilly, and milk from
a tin-cow, and put yer ter bed in a haythanish hammock of nights."
"We are going to become sailors in Uncle Sam's navy," proudly rejoined
Ned, "and we think it's a service which any man should be proud to be
privileged to join."
His face flushed indignantly, and he felt a flash of anger at the
contemptuous tone of the fat policeman.
"Oh well, be aisy," rejoined the bluecoat, "I meant no harm; but my
wife's sister's cousin Mary had a son as went for sailor and they
brought him home in a coffin, that's all. He was blowed to bits by an
explosion of one of the big guns. The police force is good enough for
me and by the same token I should think two likely looking lads like
you would like to jine the force."
"Our time is limited," broke in the still indignant Ned, "will you
please direct us to the address I showed you?"
"Shure I will, me bye," amiably replied the unruffled patrolman, "walk
to your left two blocks and take a Third Avenue car down town. When she
gets onto the Bowery watch the numbers and you can't miss it."
With a brief word of thanks the boys hastened off in the direction
indicated. As they walked away they heard the policeman remark to his
friends, the chauffeurs:
"Waal, there goes more food for powder."
"I'm glad we're not staying in New York. I don't believe I should care
much for it," said Herc, as the boys walked toward Third Avenue, their
ears stunned by the din all about them.
"Nor I," responded Ned. "However, if we pass our tests and are
accepted, we shall not have to stop here longer than overnight. That's
one comfort."
"That's so," assented Herc. "I used to think there was an ear-splitting
racket about the place on hog-killing day, but it was nothing to this."
Thus conversing they boarded a Third Avenue car and rode for half an
hour or more.
"Here you are, boys--here's Number 394."
The conductor of the car poked his head in through the doors and gave
his bell one jerk, which brought it to a stop.
The boys hastened from the car, and found themselves opposite a not
particularly prepossessing looking building, the lower floor of which
was occupied by an old book store. But above an open door leading to
the upper stories, which had been newly painted and presented a neat
appearance, floated a flag that made both their hearts beat quicker.
If all went well, they would soon be enlisted under it. Old Glory hung
bravely above the dingy portal, amid the hurry and squalidness of the
surroundings.
"Well, here's the place, Herc."
But to Ned's surprise, Herc stopped short and was standing irresolutely
behind him.
"Um-ah! I guess we'd better walk around the block a couple of times
first, Ned," stammered the red-headed youth.
"What's the trouble?" laughed Ned. "You look as awkward as a hired man
going courting. You don't mean to say that you are nervous?"
"No," protested Herc, "not nervous, Ned; but--but---- Well, the fact
is, I'd have liked a little preparation first, as the fellow said when
he fell into the well on Luke Bates' place up home."
"You're going to come in with me right now," said Ned grimly, seizing
Herc's arm in a grip there was no resisting.
Together the two lads passed through the door and up a flight of
stairs. At the head of the flight they found a well-furnished office
confronting them. A rather brusque-looking man, with a pair of
formidable mustaches, sat at a table facing them.
"Well?" he demanded somewhat truculently.
"Well," the irrepressible Herc was beginning in the same aggressive
tone, when Ned checked him.
"We wish to enlist in the navy. Have we come to the right place, sir?"
he asked civilly.
"You have, my boys," was the response in heartier tone; "and if you
mean business, I think I can promise, from looking you over casually,
that you'll pass with flying colors. Fill out these blanks, and I'll
see what you're made of. We have so many fakes we have to be careful."
He pushed toward the boys two large sheets of paper. On them were
printed numerous questions about themselves, their parents, their
previous condition of life, and so forth.
"Gee! this is like passing an examination at school," whispered Herc,
as the boys sat down with pen and ink at a corner table and prepared
to fill out the blank spaces left for answers.
"Hush!" cautioned Ned.
"Or the papers you fill out when you enter a prize heifer at the county
fair," continued the incorrigible red-headed youth.
Despite Herc's frequent remarks, breathed in a cautious undertone, the
questions were all answered in due time and the papers handed over to
the bristly mustached man, who eyed them approvingly.
"Good!" he snapped. "Neat and satisfactory. Now," he continued, "go
into that room and undergo a physical examination."
He indicated a door, which the boys opened with somewhat of a feeling
of awe, and found themselves in the presence of a surgeon, who ordered
them to disrobe and conducted a thorough examination of them.
"Just as if we were a pair of fat porkers," commented Herc afterward.
"They are magnificent physical specimens," reported the surgeon to the
bristly mustached man, who, though the boys did not then know it, was a
quartermaster detailed to recruiting duty.
"Good!" snapped the quartermaster once more. "They have already given
me the written consent of their guardian, so nothing remains to be done
but to administer the oath."
The solemn oath of allegiance to duty and country was then administered
to the boys, who stood bolt upright, with round eyes, while the
impressive little ceremony was gone through. Even the volatile Herc
seemed impressed by the seriousness of what they were undertaking.
"And now we are blue jackets," said Ned, as they concluded and
subscribed their names to the oath.
"Not yet," laughed the quartermaster. "You will now have to go to the
Naval Training School at Newport as apprentice seamen."
"Only apprentices," sighed Herc. "I thought we were out of that class."
"As apprentice seamen," went on the officer, not noticing the
interruption, "you will receive pay during your four months of
instruction, and will be furnished uniforms and equipment free, as well
as board."
He reached into a drawer.
"Here is your transportation to Newport. The boat leaves to-night at
six o'clock," he went on, handing the boys some tickets. "I hope you
boys, who look to be the stuff of which real seamen are made, will
work hard and succeed."
"Thank you, sir. We will if effort counts for anything," promised Ned.
With light hearts the two boys made their way to the street a few
minutes later. As they passed under the flag once more, Ned drew
himself up stiffly and saluted.
"Why do you do that?" asked Herc curiously, as he watched his
companion's action.
"Because we are now sailors under that flag in the United States navy,"
replied Ned proudly. "You should do the same, Herc. We're Dreadnought
Boys from now on."
"All right. I will salute next time," easily responded Herc. "And now,
as we have some few hours before the boat goes, let's saunter round a
bit and see the sights."
As the boys, having inquired the way, started toward Broadway, they
almost collided with a tall figure that was hastening into the door of
the recruiting office.
"Out of my way, can't you?" the newcomer exclaimed querulously, shoving
roughly by. "What are you barricading the door of the naval recruiting
office for? I'll report you."
"We're here because we are now apprentice seamen in the navy, Hank
Harkins," rejoined Ned, who had recognized the bully before the other
had realized with whom he had almost collided.
Hank glanced angrily at the two lads, but refrained from speaking.
Instead, he hurried up the stairs leading to the recruiting office,
paying no attention to his country's flag.
"There goes a fine addition to the navy," sneered Herc, as the boys
started off for Broadway.
"Don't say that, Herc. The navy may make a man of him," remarked Ned.
"Then it's got a fine big job on its hands, that's all I've got to
say!" was the red-headed lad's rejoinder.