Part 21 (2/2)

The boatswain's mate took them first to the bridge, where the compa.s.s and steering wheel were located; thence to the fire control, a steel-bound enclosure, open at the top, just forward of the bridge. It was from there, he told them, that the electric signals were given for torpedo firing.

”Is this a torpedo boat also?” questioned Sam innocently.

”Certainly not. This is a battles.h.i.+p. It is provided, however, with two torpedo tubes, a starboard and a port tube.”

From this point the lads went down, deeper and deeper into the s.h.i.+p, By this time there were no stairways to walk down. In place of them were narrow ladders running through narrow apertures in the various decks.

As he went along the boatswain's mate briefly explained everything, going into detail regarding the handling of the big guns, the ammunition hoists and the electric signaling plant far down amids.h.i.+ps. They did not complete their journey until they were far below the level of the water in the very bottom of the s.h.i.+p.

From there they made their way upward to the wireless telegraph room, where the operator was sitting with receiver on his head, listening for the faint ticking of the messages that might be hurled through the air.

Now and then the operator would nervously clutch his key.

Sam jumped when the resonators crashed forth their message to another far-away operator; then the sending instruments settled down to a steady squealing.

”Reminds me of Bill Thompson's pigs,” nodded Sam. ”That's the kind of a noise they make when they get an appet.i.te.”

At last the lads completed their tour.

”Stand by the starboard anchor chain!”

The command was given from the bridge as the lads emerged from the forward hatchway. Glancing up they saw several officers in their white uniforms standing on the bridge of the s.h.i.+p.

”I guess we must be going to get under way, sir,” said Dan.

”Yes.”

The ”Long Island” had swung with the tide until she was headed down the river. Groups of expectant jackies thronged the forward deck. To one side stood the members of the s.h.i.+p's band, instruments in hand.

”Stand clear of the starboard anchor chain,” came the second command from the bridge. ”Up with the starboard anchor.”

A rattling of chains followed instantly as the anchor was quickly raised by electric power until its stock was level with the forward deck.

”Starboard anchor s.h.i.+pped, sir,” was the answer from the forward deck.

”Aye, aye!”

The captain, who had been standing looking over the forecastle from the bridge, now turned to the mids.h.i.+pman at the bridge telegraph, from which signals are transmitted to the engine room.

”Slow speed ahead, both engines,” commanded the captain.

A tremor ran through the s.h.i.+p and at the same instant the Stars and Stripes fluttered from the gaff, showing that the s.h.i.+p was under motion.

At that moment the band struck up a lively tune. With one accord the jackies threw their arms about each other and began waltzing about the deck, raising their voices in song as they spun around.

The Battles.h.i.+p Boys, however, did not sing. Their eyes were swimming with happiness, their hearts were full of patriotism. The throb of the engines was borne faintly to their ears, and the great s.h.i.+p, turning her prow seaward, headed slowly for the Narrows.

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