Part 19 (1/2)

Once outside, Sam turned a bronzed, freckled face toward his companion.

”We are the people-the real people-aren't we, Dan?” he questioned, with a sly wink.

”We are,” answered Dan soberly.

The heads of the Battles.h.i.+p Boys were in a whirl of expectancy for the rest of the day. The afternoon hours dragged slowly along, but at last the evening mess was over, and they quickly gathered their dunnage, starting for the New York boat with light and happy hearts.

Each boy had nearly fifty dollars in his pockets as the result of his three months' service at the Training Station. This money, however, they had decided to deposit with the paymaster of the 'Long Island' as soon as possible after arriving on board.

The next morning Dan and Sam were up just as the Fall River Line boat was about to pa.s.s under the Brooklyn bridge.

”Look!” cried Dan. ”Do you recognize that yellow building over there?”

”Can't say that I do. What building is it?”

”It is the recruiting station where you and I joined the service three months ago. And now, just think of it, we are jackies. Everybody knows we are jackies as soon as they look at our handsome uniforms.”

”Yes,” breathed Sam, ”and there's the very Flag under which we enlisted.”

Instinctively the Battles.h.i.+p Boys removed their caps and came to attention, in which position they stood until the towering Sound steamer had swept on and began rounding the Battery.

CHAPTER XI-ON BOARD A BATTLEs.h.i.+P

”Small boat with two enlisted men approaching, sir,” called out the deck watch of the big battles.h.i.+p ”Long Island.”

”What s.h.i.+p?” answered the officer of the deck.

”I don't know, sir. Can't make them out exactly.”

The small boat, manned by a perspiring boatman, was creeping nearer and nearer to the huge, drab-colored man-of-war, whose towering sides and huge masts dwarfed everything else about it.

The small boat pulled up to the starboard or right side of the s.h.i.+p, and drifted in.

”Boat, ahoy!” called down the quartermaster, making a megaphone of his hands. ”What do you want?”

”We want to come aboard, sir?” answered Dan, rising in the fragile skiff and saluting.

”Who are you?”

”Recruits from the Newport Training Station, a.s.signed to this s.h.i.+p.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”We Want to Come Aboard, Sir!”]

”Then you ought to know better than to try to board a man-o'-war on the starboard side. Get around to the port side where you belong.”

”Aye, aye, sir,” answered Dan, touching his cap.

”How are you going to know which is the port side of these tubs?”