Part 20 (2/2)

”Come in, lads,” he said. ”Have you your papers with you?”

”Yes, sir,” answered Dan, extending their record papers.

”All clear,” said the master-at-arms after a brief glance over the doc.u.ments. ”The Training School gives you a special good-conduct mention, I see. That is well. Follow me.”

Once more the process of diving through narrow pa.s.sageways, down iron companionways, with chains for hand rails, turning sharp corners, trumping their elbows on projections and the like, was gone through with.

”What are they trying to do with us?” whispered Sam.

”I don't know.”

”Guess they're trying out our wind to see whether we are any good or not. This certainly is a sprint. If they keep it up much longer I'll change my mind again and go ash.o.r.e.”

Just then the master-at-arms rapped on the casing of another door, and, at command, entered, motioning the boys to follow.

They were now standing before the s.h.i.+p's writer. The writer, after looking over their papers, entered their record in a large book on his desk. Following this he asked them many questions about their past life, going over much the same ground that the recruiting officer had done when they enlisted in New York. After satisfying himself on all points, the writer said:

”I will a.s.sign you to a deck division for the present. Here are the numbers for your sea bags and hammocks. Here are your ditty boxes.” He handed to the lads two boxes each about a foot square, neatly made and varnished. A lock and key was attached to each, and on the top of each box was a number.

Sam took his box under his arm. He seemed to be doubtful as to just what he was expected to do with the box, but at the moment he had no opportunity to ask, for once more the master-at-arms was beckoning the boys to follow him.

”There he goes again. Another sprinting match,” muttered Hickey. ”I shall have an appet.i.te when I get through with this race.”

”You don't need exercise to give you an appet.i.te,” retorted Dan. ”That's one of the things you always have with you.”

They were going forward through the interior of the s.h.i.+p, though by this time Sam had lost his bearings entirely. He could not have told whether they were going forward or aft.

”Two recruits just come aboard, sir,” announced the master-at-arms.

This time it was to the boatswain's mate that they were introduced.

”Come in, lads,” he said in a voice that Sam afterwards decided must have come from the boatswain's boots. The voice was deep and hoa.r.s.e and fearsome, but the smile that followed the words was entirely rea.s.suring.

”He isn't half as fierce as he looks,” muttered Hickey in a whisper so loud and plain as to reach the ears of the boatswain's mate. The latter smiled broadly.

”No; you need not be afraid of me, my lads. The boatswain's mate is supposed to be a sort of father and mother, all in one, to the raw recruit. I suppose you have learned everything there is to know since you have been at the Newport station, have you not?”

”We have learned some things, but I fear there are still many things for us to learn,” replied Dan, with a half smile.

”Just so. You have learned to make all the various knots that a sailor is supposed to be familiar with?”

”Yes, sir,” answered the boys in chorus.

”And belay a fall?”

”Yes, sir; we know how to take a turn on a cleat with a rope.

”Very good. Hickey, my lad, now that you know how to belay a fall, I will ask if you can pa.s.s a stopper?”

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