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 the _Rhode
Island_ burned. 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 was fresh 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.