Two Boys of the Battleship; Or, For the Honor of Uncle Sam

CHAPTER VI—ROBBED

Together they entered the aquarium, and were soon gazing with interested eyes at the porpoise, which was kept in one of the large central tanks. Around the walls of the place were other tanks, with the light coming in from the top in such a way that the fish were plainly visible. There was a new exhibit of fishes from Bermudian waters, and looking at them after having watched the porpoise for some time, Ned remarked:

“Well, Frank, if we are ever lucky enough to get on a battleship that’s sent to Bermuda, I suppose we’ll see such fish as these in their native waters.”

“Yes, it would be great!” agreed Frank, and as he spoke he noticed that a man standing near him and his brother looked at them in a peculiar and sharp manner. Frank did not like the looks of the fellow, and he was even less pleased when the man moved a little nearer and addressed them.

“Are you lads from some ship?” he asked. “If you are, shake! I’m from the Kentucky myself, on shore leave, and it does my heart good to meet a couple of the boys in blue. What’s your berth?”

“We haven’t any,” Frank said, hoping to pass the matter off lightly and leave the man, for he did not like his face or manner.

“Excuse me,” the fellow went on, “but I thought I heard youse say something about a battleship—”

“Oh, that was just talk,” broke in Ned, more open and ingenuous than his brother. “We’ve been talking of getting on a battleship for some time, but I don’t suppose we ever shall.”

“Well, it’s a great life, believe me!” exclaimed the man. “I’ve put in eight years of it. Hard work, but lots of fun, too. I’ve seen these fish swimming around so thick that you’d think there wasn’t enough water for ’em,” and he waved his hand—not a very clean hand, Frank thought—toward a tank of angel fish.

“Have you been in Bermuda?” asked Ned, eagerly.

“Lots of times,” boasted the other. “Two or three times the ships I was on were sent there on cruises. It’s a great life. Are you boys stopping in New York?”

“For a while, yes,” assented Frank, not wishing to give too much information about themselves to a stranger. He well knew the wiles of some of the unprincipled men of New York.

“I took you for strangers,” the fellow went on, and there came a queer gleam in his eyes.

“We’re Columbia students,” put in Ned, who was very proud of the fact. And then, like a pang, it came to him, that he and his brother would have to give up their places at the university. No longer would they be able to keep on with their studies there. Well, there was no use in vain regrets.

“I thought youse looked like college boys,” went on the man who claimed to be a sailor. “But what’s the trouble? Flunked in your studies that you want to get on a battleship? You can’t be officers first crack after you enlist, you know.”

“Oh, that talk of battleships didn’t amount to anything,” Frank said, wishing the fellow would take himself off. “And we don’t expect to be officers. Ned, come along,” he said, “it’s time we were going.”

They started for the exit, but their new acquaintance persisted in following them. And when Ned, who was an ardent fisherman, stopped at another tank, the stranger halted also.

“I wouldn’t like one of those chaps to get after me,” the man said, indicating two big green morays. The eel-like fish were swimming about and tearing to shreds a smaller fish that had been put into their tank for food.

“They are fierce,” agreed Ned, pressing close to the tank.

“And they’ll attack a man, too,” went on the sailor. “I knowed a feller once—he was on the same ship with me—he went swimming overboard when we was in the tropics, though he was told not to on account of sharks and these morays; but he did, and he got his all right.”

“How?” asked Frank, interested in spite of himself.

“He was all chawed up. We just managed to get him out of the water alive. If youse go on a battleship, look out about swimming over the side when you’re in tropical waters.”

“I guess there isn’t much chance for us,” remarked Frank. “Come, Ned,” he went on, “we really must be going!”

At that moment another man came up, evidently in something of a hurry, and he pressed eagerly forward to look at the morays. He shoved against Frank with some force, and Frank, in turn, collided with the stranger who claimed to be from one of the United States battleships.

“Here, look where you’re shovin’ to!” the sailor called to the newcomer. “What do youse mean by bunkin’ inter my friend here in that way?”

The other did not answer for a moment, but looked the speaker over from head to foot, and an angry look came over his face.

“What’s gittin’ inter youse?” the second man demanded. “I didn’t step on your corns, did I?”

“No, but you shoved my friend here,” and the sailor indicated Frank, “and I won’t stand for anythin’ like that. Not for a minute, no sir!”

“Aw, ain’t your friend got a tongue of his own?” roughly demanded the newcomer. “I didn’t hear him kickin’ none!”

There was contempt in his tone, and anger also.

“It really doesn’t matter,” Frank said. “I have no doubt it was an accident.”

“Of course it was,” insisted the man who had offended. “Youse is a gentleman, youse is, an’ I apologizes.”

“Does that mean I ain’t no gentleman?” asked the sailor, in fierce tones.

“Youse kin take any meanin’ from it youse likes,” was the cool answer. The newcomer was about to walk away, when the sailor stepped up to him quickly, fairly crowding Ned and Frank together to do so, and he grasped the shoulder of the fellow who had apologized to Frank.

“I’ll show youse who’s a gentleman!” cried the sailor. “You can’t insult me, nor bunk inter friends of mine!”

The two stood close together glaring at one another, with Ned and Frank between them. A crowd gathered in front of the moray tank.

“Come on, Ned, let’s get out of here!” whispered Frank into his brother’s ear. “There’ll be a fight in a minute, and we don’t want to be mixed up in it.”

The two belligerents separated for a moment, and the lads slipped out of the throng. As they did so an officer sauntered up.

“Here, youse! Cut out that rough stuff and beat it!” he said to the two quarrelsome men. The latter never so much as replied, but quickly disappeared in the crowd. There was some laughter.

“One was afraid, and the other didn’t dare,” commented a man.

“Come on, now, don’t crowd,” advised the officer, and the throng thinned out, while Ned and Frank, glad they had escaped any unpleasantness, emerged into Battery Park again.

“Did you see enough?” asked Frank.

“Sure. Now I’m ready for the next thing on the programme. Say, that sailor was a friendly chap all right, wasn’t he?”

“Too friendly,” Frank said. “I didn’t want him to get into a fight on our account.”

“I should say not. But maybe he meant all right.”

“Well, I’m not so sure of that. What time have you? It must be nearly one o’clock.”

Ned reached toward his vest, where he carried his father’s gold watch. He had chosen that as a memento of his dead parent, Frank taking a peculiar old ring that he valued highly. But instead of pulling out the watch it was the empty chain that dangled from Ned’s hand.

“Why—why—” he began, a blank look coming over his face. “Why, where’s dad’s watch? I never left it anywhere! I had it not an hour ago, when we went in there! Now it’s gone!”

Frank uttered an exclamation.

“You’ve been robbed, Ned!” he cried. “Those two fellows—I see it now! That was only a game! They—”

He paused, and hurriedly reached into his inside coat pocket.

“They robbed me, too!” he exclaimed. “They’ve taken the pocketbook and all our money! Ned, we’ve been robbed!”

CHAPTER VII—“LETS ENLIST”

“That was only their trick, Ned, to take our attention off what they were doing to us. It is an old trick. I ought to have known it. But they were good actors, and they got away with it. Oh, hang it all! How stupid I’ve been!”

“Not any more than I was, Frank. But it doesn’t seem possible that those men were friends, after the way they talked to one another. They were so—”

“Look!” suddenly exclaimed Frank. “Doesn’t that look as if they were friends?”

He pointed across Battery Park, where, walking rapidly toward the station of the elevated, were the same two men who had so nearly, apparently, come to blows in the aquarium. The men were walking along close together.

“They don’t seem very unfriendly now,” said Frank, bitterly.

Ned set off on the run toward them.

“Where are you going?” asked Frank.

“After those fellows! They shan’t get away with my watch and your money without a fight.”

“I’m with you!” cried Frank. “It’s as much your money as mine, though. I had it all together. Come on, we’ll see if we can catch ’em, but they’ve got the start of us.”

The two clever pickpockets had indeed an advantage. But Frank and Ned set off on the run, the younger lad crying loudly:

“Stop those fellows! Stop those men! They robbed us!”

His cry attracted considerable attention, and a crowd was soon following our heroes, for it does not take even such an exciting cry as “Stop thief!” to collect a throng in busy New York.

“Stop those fellows! Stop ’em!” yelled Ned.

“They’ve got our money!” added Frank.

By this time the thieves were aware of the commotion behind them. They had evidently anticipated pursuit, for at the sound of their victims’ cries, and at the sight of the crowd that had gathered to help in the chase, the two men separated.

Where one went Frank and Ned could not see, as a pillar of the elevated structure hid him from sight. But the other ran up the stairway, and Frank noticed, with despair, that a train was just pulling into the station.

“He’ll get away on that,” thought Frank, “and the other will be lost in the crowd.”

And that was exactly what happened. When Frank and Ned, somewhat out of breath, reached the elevated structure neither of the men was in sight. But a policeman, attracted by the throng and the sight of the two excited boys, ran over from where he was standing in front of a steam-ship ticket office.

“What’s up?” he demanded, sharply.

“Pickpockets,” explained Frank briefly. “Two of ’em—they robbed my brother of his watch, and took my pocketbook—”

“Any money in it?” snapped out the policeman, while the crowd pressed around to hear what was going on.

“Sure—all we had,” and Frank spoke a little bitterly.

“Where did it happen?”

“In the aquarium. The men ran over here. One went up to take the train. Maybe we can catch him.”

“Maybe,” agreed the officer. “We’ll have a try. Come on—sprint!”

He himself led the way up the elevated stairs, followed by Frank, Ned and some curious ones.

But the train had pulled out, and save for the ticket-chopper there was no one on the platform.

“Do you see him?” demanded the officer, rather needlessly.

“No,” answered Frank. “He’s gone all right. And I guess there’s no use chasing after the other one.”

“Give me a description of them,” suggested the policeman, “and I’ll report it. The detectives will do what they can, but I guess I needn’t tell you there isn’t much chance,” went on the officer. He evidently regarded Frank and Ned as New York lads, and indeed they had the smart appearance of those who are familiar with the metropolis.

“No, I guess we can score that up to profit and loss,” said Frank, gloomily.

“At any rate, give me your names and addresses,” suggested the policeman. “I’ll have to make a report of it to the station,” and he took out notebook and pencil.

Most of the crowd had left the elevated station now, seeing no further chance for excitement, and standing on the platform, Frank gave an account of the affair, telling how, by the clever ruse of a pretended quarrel, the men had so engaged the attention of his brother and himself that they never noticed the trained and nimble fingers of the pickpockets taking the watch and money.

“Yes, it is an old trick,” the policeman said. “It’s often been worked before. I’ll go back to the aquarium with you and see if any of the attendants noticed the two men, so I can get a description of them.”

“One of the officers inside ordered them out when they seemed likely to fight,” proffered Ned.

“I’ll have a talk with him,” decided the policeman. But he could get nothing more than a general description of the two thieves, and from that he did not recognize them as any well-known criminals.

“Well, give me your names and addresses,” said the policeman again, when it became evident that nothing more could be done.

Frank complied, stating that they lived in Ipswhich.

“We might as well call that our home,” he said to Ned afterward. “It’s the only real one we ever had, and maybe we’ll get back to it some day.”

“I hope so,” sighed his brother. “But what are we going to do now, Frank? We surely are up against it good and hard!”

They had left the aquarium for the second time, parted from the officer, and were now by themselves. The crowd had melted away. There had been no chance for any real pursuit of the pickpockets.

“Yes, we’ve got to consider what to do,” said Frank, and his voice had in it a serious note.

“I’m half starved,” murmured Ned.

“So am I,” added Frank. “We’ve got enough money left to buy us a few meals, anyhow. Luckily I held back a little change,” and he produced it from a pocket the thief had not found. “We’ll go and get a bite, and then we’ll be better able to consider matters,” he went on, as he led the way hastily up and across Broadway, toward a restaurant.

The meal was grateful to the boys, who had had nothing since early morning, and it was now nearly two o’clock. They did not talk much during the process of eating, for they did not want to let their troubles be known. But a careful observer might have seen anxious and rather gloomy looks on the faces of both lads.

“Well, now what?” asked Ned, as they came out of the eating place.

“Let’s walk down around South Ferry,” proposed Frank. “The elevated train that one of those fellows took went in that direction. Those thieves will have to meet again, and it’s barely possible that we may see them on the street. If we do, we can have them arrested.”

“Not much chance,” commented Ned, shaking his head.

“No, but every chance is worth taking.”

“Oh, yes, sure.”

Together they walked down toward the lower end of the Island of Manhattan—the location known as South Ferry, where the waters of the East and Hudson River mingle.

Frank was thinking hard. He and his brother had between them now only the clothing they had left at the Pennsylvania station, and a few dollars that the thief had not taken. It would hardly last them two days if they had to engage a boarding place.

“Say, that’s the life all right!” suddenly exclaimed Ned. Frank saw him pointing to a gaily-colored poster which depicted some sailors landing on a tropical island, while in the distance, on the blue waters of a palm-encircled bay, was a battleship. It was one of Uncle Sam’s attractive posters, calling for young men to join the navy.

“Yes, that does look enticing,” admitted Frank.

And then, before he could say any more, Ned clapped him heartily on the back, and exclaimed so loudly that several passersby heard it and smiled:

“Let’s enlist! Let’s enlist, old man! That will solve all our troubles!”

CHAPTER VIII—JOINING THE NAVY

Ned pointed to the bright and cheerful picture of the blue-jackets.

“Say, you’re getting quite dramatic,” commented Frank, as he drew nearer to the poster, which was one of two put on a V-shaped board standing in front of a hall entrance, in which was a placard announcing

“Dramatic!” echoed Ned. “I guess you’d get dramatic, too, if you saw starvation staring you in the face.”

“Worse and more of it,” murmured his brother.

“Well, what do you think of it?” asked Ned, as Frank continued to stare at the poster. “We’ve got to do something, so why not do this? You know we’ve both been keen on getting on a battleship, and this is our chance. Maybe we wouldn’t have come to it if it hadn’t been for our misfortune. I’m sure we can pass the examination,” he went on. He and his brother were in excellent physical trim, for they were active lads, always in training.

“Well, since you’ve brought up the matter,” said Frank, speaking slowly, “I don’t mind telling you, Ned, that I had something like this in mind all along.”

“You did?”

“Sure. After the crash, and when Uncle Phil had to go away, I knew there’d be a shortage of money. Now, though we have pretty good educations, we haven’t been trained for any work yet. So I looked into this navy business, knowing you were as crazy about battleships as I was, and I found out that not only does Uncle Sam train young fellows to be good sailors, marines and soldiers, but by enlisting in the navy you can acquire a trade at which you can earn your living if you want to quit after your term of enlistment is up.”

“Is that so?” asked Ned.

“It sure is. Why we can learn to become machinists, bakers, firemen, shipwrights, plumbers and fitters, boiler makers, cooks or musicians.”

“Really?” cried Ned.

“Well, I should say so! I read it all up. But your proposition sort of took me—er—”

“Call it amidships, if we are to enlist,” suggested Ned, with a laugh.

“All right—it sort of took me amidships,” agreed Frank. “I was figuring on looking about New York a bit, trying to get work, perhaps, and then enlisting.”

“And you never told me. Though you did speak something about a chance to get near Atlanta, where Uncle Phil is imprisoned.”

“Yes, that was part of the game. You know when a fellow used to enlist in the navy he was sent to a training ship. Well, that’s all done away with, and now the government has a number of naval training stations on shore, near the water, of course. There’s one at Norfolk, Virginia, and we might ask to be sent there. If we were, we could get leave and go to Atlanta, perhaps.”

“Say, you have it all thought out, haven’t you?” exclaimed Ned, admiringly.

“Not all,” Frank admitted. “And perhaps we couldn’t get to Atlanta after all. But it’s worth trying. So now I’m with you, old man, and we’ll enlist—or try to. Maybe they won’t take us.”

“Oh, I think they will,” Ned said, confidently.

A recruiting officer, in a natty uniform, looked at them closely as they entered the hallway.

“Looking for the recruiting office?” he asked, with a smile.

“Why—er—yes,” admitted Frank, a bit bashfully.

“One flight up—turn to your right,” he directed them.

Ned and Frank went into a barely-furnished room, where two or three men were sitting about. One had a sergeant’s chevrons on his sleeve, and to him Frank spoke.

“We’d like to enlist,” began the lad.

“That’s fine,” was the hearty response. “We’re looking for good lads, and you two seem to size up pretty well,” he added, drawing a pad of paper toward him. “Not running away from home, or anything like that, are you?” he asked, pleasantly enough.

“No; home sort of ran away from us,” answered Ned, with a laugh.

The sergeant looked at him closely for a moment, and then smiled himself.

“What’s the story?” he asked. “That is if you don’t mind telling me. Perhaps it might save trouble in the end,” he suggested.

“We’ll tell you,” replied Frank, and at a nod from the sergeant the other seamen in the room arose, saluted and went out.

“No use telling everyone your troubles,” went on the government’s representative. “Now I’ll listen to as much as you want tell, so go ahead.”

Frank acted as spokesman, and related all that was necessary concerning their change in fortunes. He related the facts of his uncle’s arrest on a political charge, and, to his relief, the sergeant seemed to think lightly of it.

“Well, you certainly are up against it,” he remarked, when the story of the pocket-picking had been told. “As for that charge against your uncle, it doesn’t amount to a hill of beans in my estimation—I mean as far as any disgrace is concerned.

“Some of those little South American republics are crazy places anyhow, and they’ll do anything to an American who they think has money. I don’t see any reason, in what you’ve told me, why you shouldn’t join the navy if you can pass the physical tests, and you look fit,” he added.

“Oh, I guess we’re all right,” Frank said.

“And we’re pretty well at home on the water, and in and about boats,” added Ned.

“I should think you might be, having lived on Great South Bay so long. That will be a help, too. Some of the recruits get terribly seasick, and though it doesn’t last forever, still it’s just as well to escape it if you can. Now I’ve got to ask you a lot of questions, and you’ll have to answer. First, I suppose both of you are over eighteen years old. Otherwise you’ll have to get your uncle’s consent.”

“I’m past nineteen and Ned is over eighteen,” said Frank.

“Then you’ll come in all right. Now for the rest of it.”

The two boys who hoped soon to be doing duty on a battleship, answered many questions over which I will not go into details here. They had to tell of their past history, give their birthplace, the date, and many other details.

“It’s a little late for the doctor to-day,” went on the sergeant, when he had written down the replies of Frank and Ned. “You’ll have to be pretty thoroughly looked over by him. Can you come back to-morrow?” he asked.

“Sure,” replied Frank.

“And now—er—I don’t want to butt in, but how are you fixed for money? You said you were robbed, and—”

“Well, we have a little left,” said Frank.

“Now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” broke in the sergeant. “I’ll just send you to my boarding place, and be responsible for you. There is a vacant room there you can bunk in. If you are accepted you can easily pay the small charge from your wages. If you are turned down—well, I guess it won’t break me to stake you to one night’s lodging.”

“Oh, perhaps we have enough,” said Frank, quickly.

“Save what money you have, friend!” interrupted the officer, with a smile and a wave of his hand. “You may need it before you begin drawing any cash from Uncle Sam. Now you can sit here until my trick is up, which will be in about two hours, or you can go out and see the town. Come back about five-thirty, and I’ll take you to my place.”

“I guess we’ve seen about all of the town we care to,” said Ned, significantly, patting the empty pocket where the watch had rested.

“We could go up and get our valises,” suggested Frank.

“Good idea,” the sergeant told him. “Go ahead, and come back here, where I’ll meet you.”

As Frank and Ned went down to the street again the younger lad remarked:

“Well, we’ve joined the navy. Now we’re going to be the two boys of the battleship.”

“We’ve joined all right,” agreed Frank, “but we haven’t actually been accepted. The doctor has yet to see us.”

“Oh, we’ll pass all right,” asserted Ned, confidently.

CHAPTER IX—AT THE TRAINING STATION

“If we only could!” murmured Frank. “That would be fine! But I guess we’ll have to leave that to the lawyers and politicians.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” agreed his brother.

Our two rather lonesome boys, who greatly missed the kind ministrations of Mrs. Brun, the genial housekeeper, were made welcome by Sergeant Berk at his boarding house, which was not far away from the recruiting station.

Frank and Ned slept well in spite of being in a strange place, for they were very tired. It had been a hard day for them. But before turning in for the night Frank sent a letter to his uncle at the Atlanta federal prison, telling of the intention of himself and Ned to join the navy.

“And if we do, dear Uncle Phil,” Frank wrote, “and are lucky enough to be sent to Norfolk, we’ll try to come to see you.”

The next day Ned and Frank had to undergo a rigorous examination by a doctor.

“And what I don’t find out about you, if I pass you, the medical officer at the training station will, and he may turn you down,” said the physician, grimly.

“Well, we’ll hope for the best,” said Frank.

Neither he nor his brother really feared the examination. They had passed the first requirements, which state that to be successful applicants must be able to read and write English, that they must be American citizens (native or naturalized), that they never have deserted from any branch of the naval or military service of the United States. Neither had Frank or Ned ever been convicted of any serious offense, in which case special permission to enlist would have had to be obtained from the Bureau of Navigation.

“Well, now to get down to business,” said the doctor, when he had made some entries on his blanks. “You know that you—let’s see—your name is Frank Arden, isn’t it?” and he turned to the older brother.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, since you are past nineteen, you must have a height of at least sixty-four inches, bare-footed, and weigh not less than 125 pounds.”

“I can qualify there all right,” said Frank.

“And as for your brother, he must weigh not less than 115 pounds, and be also sixty-four inches tall.”

“I’m that all right, though Frank is more,” put in Ned.

“Well, a little more in Frank’s case won’t matter—so much the better,” the surgeon remarked.

He then went into medical details, which need to be touched on only to remark that neither Frank nor Ned was found to have any physical defect that would bar him from the service. Their teeth were good and sound, and of course you know that of late years the United States government, as well as all foreign governments, requires that their best fighters have good teeth. Those that are filled are counted as sound, provided there are not too many of them.

It is not so much to “bite the enemy,” as one soldier, who was refused enlistment, said he seemed expected to do, as it is that with unsound teeth food cannot be properly chewed, and in these days “an army fights on its stomach.”

“Well, I can’t find anything the matter with you,” announced the doctor pleasantly, after the examination was over.

“You tried hard enough,” Frank remarked, laughing.

“Well, that’s my business—I have to do it. I wouldn’t want to pass you and have you sent to a training station, only to learn there, later, that you must be rejected. That would be a bad mark against my ability.

“But as it is, I’ll almost guarantee that you’ll pass when you come up before the medical officer. I wish all the recruits were as strong and healthy as you two.”

This was a fine compliment, and Frank and Ned appreciated it.

“Well, so far so good,” remarked Sergeant Berk, when the doctor had put away his stethoscope and finished filling out the blanks. “Now you boys will have to be sent to a training station, and at present my orders are to ship all enlisted men from here to Norfolk. I hope you don’t mind going there, but if you do perhaps you can get a transfer later.”

“Norfolk suits us right down to the ground!” exclaimed Frank. “We may get a chance to see our uncle,” he added.

“Not right away, I’m afraid,” was the sergeant’s answer. “You’ll be kept pretty busy learning your new duties. Are you going in for any special line of work?”

“Why, we want to work on a battleship!” exclaimed Ned. “Fire the guns, I suppose.”

“Yes, most new recruits do,” was the comment. “But every one can’t be a gunner. You know Uncle Sam has to have a lot of different workers on his ships. There are those who are expert in steering, others who do nothing but cook. Then there are men who handle the anchors, others who man the boats, and even stenographers and typewriters are needed. Just to mention a few I might specify clerks, waiters, nurses, copper-smiths, plumbers, boilermakers, painters and stewards.

“And to make sure that he will get the best of help in these lines of work,” went on the sergeant, “Uncle Sam trains men to fill the different positions. They are much better able to do their work with training, than they would be without.”

“And do we have to select what branch we’d like best?” asked Ned.

“Well, in a way, yes, though of course you’ll be picked for what you are best suited, or for what is most needed.”

“I want to be a gunner,” declared Frank.

“And so do I,” added his brother.

“Well, good luck to you,” said the sergeant, with a smile. “You may get your wishes.”

Frank and Ned were now apprentice seamen, or they would be when formally passed by the medical officer at the training station. They were to leave New York with a squad of other enlisted men the next day, and that night they wrote to their uncle telling of their progress.

Frank wanted to pay Sergeant Berk for the boarding house accommodations, but the officer said there was plenty of time for that. And so, in due season, our heroes found themselves on board a train that was headed for Norfolk.

“Well, we don’t know where we’re going to land, but we’re on our way,” said Ned, slightly changing the words of the song.

“That’s right,” agreed his brother. “But I guess we’ll make out all right.”

“I’d feel a little better if I felt there was some way in which we could help Uncle Phil,” murmured Ned, musingly.

“Well, maybe we can, after we get aboard some ship, and know just what we are about,” replied Frank.

But he little realized how soon his words were to be brought to his mind again with peculiar force.

The journey to Norfolk was without notable incident, save that once Ned thought he saw one of the men who had robbed Frank. But it proved a false alarm.

“And maybe it’s just as well,” said Frank.

“How so?” asked Ned.

“Well, if we got our money back now we might not want to keep on and join the navy.”

“Oh, no danger of my backing out now!” cried the younger lad.

“No, I guess not,” was his brother’s reply.

In time, they arrived at Norfolk, and were soon at the naval training station, where, with some other recruits, they were taken in charge by a petty officer to prepare for the second and more rigorous medical examination.

CHAPTER X—IN BARRACKS

“You’ll only sleep in barracks while you’re training here,” he answered. “You have to be shown something about a battleship and other naval matters before you’re qualified to go on board. Don’t worry, you’ll have all the sleeping aboard a ship that you want. It will all come in time.”

“That’s good news,” said Ned to Frank.

“Oh, I knew this was only temporary,” was the answer.

“It takes about four months,” the petty officer said, overhearing Frank’s remark.

“Thank you.”

A little later the two brothers, as well as the other recruits, were led into the presence of the medical officer and his assistants.

“Strip!” came the order, and soon the rigorous examination was under way.

Ned and Frank need have had no fears, for they were very promptly passed. Some of their mates, however, did not fare so well, and one or two were rejected, having to leave the prospective service, much to their regret. But our heroes were found physically fit, and, having previously taken the oath of allegiance to the United States, they were now fully qualified and admitted apprentice seamen.

“That’s all,” the medical officer said to them, as he motioned to them to dress. Once more they were taken in charge by a petty officer, a different one this time.

“What’s next?” asked Frank.

“You’ll have your clothing assigned to you, and will learn how to swing your hammocks,” was the answer.

“Are we going to sleep in hammocks while we’re ashore, in the barracks?” Ned wanted to know.

“That’s what you are,” said the guiding officer. “You’ll unlash them every night when you’re piped to do so, and you’ll lash them up, out of the way, every morning, just as if you were aboard a battleship.”

“It’s to get used to it,” suggested Frank.

“Exactly, and so with everything else done here at the training station. We do it as nearly as it’s done on board a man-o’-war as is possible.”

Led by the petty officer into the store department, where the clothing for the apprentice seamen was dealt out, Ned and Frank each received two complete outfits—one for winter and one for summer, consisting of rubber boots and coat, caps, sweater, overcoat, trousers, shoes, underwear—in fact everything necessary.

“You’ve now each received sixty dollars’ worth of clothing for your start in a new life,” commented the officer.

“I’m afraid mine are going to be too big for me,” remarked one newly enlisted lad, who was rather small, though not below the standard.

“There’s a tailor right here on the premises, who’ll make them fit you like the paper on the wall,” said the officer. “And that’s one thing you boys might as well learn first as last. You’ve got to look neat while you’re working for Uncle Sam. He’ll do his part in giving you good clothes and the means to keep them in order. The rest is up to you.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” remarked Frank.

“Same here,” agreed his brother. “If there’s anything I like, it’s to be clean and neat.”

They had both been brought up that way.

If Ned and Frank had imagined that now they had received their outfit of clothing, there was nothing more to be done for a time, they were disappointed, for the petty officer, having arranged with the tailor to make certain alterations in some of the garments, told the recruits they would now be expected to mark each of their articles of wearing apparel with a stencil, so that each one would always know which was his.

“And when that is done you’ll have a few instructions in folding your things and stowing them away in your bag.”

“Fold our things!” exclaimed Ned. “Why can’t we hang them up? They’ll get all wrinkled if we fold them.”

“Not if you fold them the way I show you,” was the reply.

The officer then led the new recruits to the barracks, where each one was assigned to a certain hammock in the dormitory on the second floor. There were hammock hooks on the walls, just as there are on board a ship, and in a little while Ned, Frank and the others, after they had stenciled their clothes, were shown how to unlash the hammocks which were trussed up neatly out of the way.

Then they were given instructions in putting away the hammocks in ship-shape fashion.

“I’ve never slept in a hammock, except to doze off on an afternoon of a summer day under the trees,” remarked Frank.

“Neither have I. I wonder how I’ll like it?” returned his brother.

“Oh, there isn’t any finer bed going!” exclaimed the petty officer, enthusiastically. “You’ll find them comfortable here, even in barracks, but when you get aboard a ship, and find your hammock swaying to the motion, why say! you’ll be sorry to hear the breakfast call!”

“Not much I won’t!” exclaimed a fat, jolly-looking lad who probably had a good appetite.

Ned and Frank had noticed that the hammocks provided at the navy yard barracks of the Norfolk training station were not like the ordinary hammock in which magazine illustrators like to depict pretty girls with a book and a box of candy. The sailors’ hammocks were made of stout canvas, and each one was provided with a well-made hair mattress. The United States isn’t taking any chances on his boys’ going without a good night’s sleep. It makes every provision for their reasonable comfort, though there are no “fal-de-lals,” as Ned observed.

“But then, who wants them?” asked Frank.

“Certainly no one on a battleship,” answered his brother.

In addition to the mattress in the hammock there were two woolen blankets of good quality.

“You’ll never be cold, especially on board ship,” said the sergeant, “and when you want to be cool, just don’t use the blankets, that’s all. It’s the simplest and best bed in the world.”

Frank and Ned were beginning to believe this. They were already very favorably impressed with their new life, or, rather, its beginning. Of course they realized that hard work and plenty of it was in store for them.

They had enlisted for a term of four years. They could not resign before their term of enlistment was over if something did not suit them, and they would be subject to certain specified hours. But, as the petty officer told them, there was plenty of liberty allowed, and there were all sorts of recreations, such as swimming, boating, fencing, football, and other athletics. Then, too, they received free board, lodging and medical attention, and they were paid $17.50 a month, which could all be saved, not a penny of expense being called for except what was wanted for extras.

“And if you show yourselves capable, and learn quickly,” their friend, the sergeant, told them, “you’ll soon be earning more. Ordinary seamen get $20.90 a month, seamen $24.60, and—”

“Say, what do gunners get?” asked impulsive Ned.

“Well, anywhere from $1,500 to $2,400 a year,” he answered. “And I want to say right now that if a lad is qualified he can get to that post, if he works hard.”

“Then I’m going to work hard!” declared Ned.

“Same here,” echoed his brother.

“That’s the kind of talk we like to listen to,” commented the sergeant. “Aim as high as you can, and hit the bull’s-eye!”

“Huh! Some folks are trying to crow before they’re out of the shell very long,” remarked a red-haired recruit, with a rather unpleasant face. He had seemed sullen ever since arriving at the training station, and the remarks of Frank and Ned seemed to anger him.

“What’s the matter with you?” asked the sergeant. “Some one step on your corns?”

“No, but it makes me mad to hear kids that don’t know a half hitch from a square knot talking about getting in the gunners’ class!”

He glared rather vindictively at our two friends, though they did not know of anything they had done to merit his displeasure. His name was Henry Dell, but he called himself “Hank.”

“That’s the sort of lad who is looking for trouble. Steer clear of him,” counseled the sergeant in a low tone to Frank and Ned, as he led them toward the mess hall where they would have their meals.

CHAPTER XI—“ALL ABOARD!”

“Well, I think we are slated for the Georgetown all right,” Frank said.

“What! That magnificent new battleship?” cried Ned, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“That’s the one, and it’s the very last word in battleships,” Frank went on.

This talk took place about four months after the arrival of our heroes at the training station. Those four months were so crowded with work, play, incidents, and a few accidents of minor character, so full of learning new things, that the whole book could be devoted to what happened when Ned and Frank were learning to be sailors. But there are other matters to tell of, so only a brief idea of what took place will be given. Perhaps another volume will tell more fully of life at Norfolk.

Instruction for the two boys of the battleship, as well as for their mates, went on constantly, and they fairly absorbed knowledge of nautical matters, seemingly taking it in through their skin, as well as through their eyes and ears.

In the big drill hall, where they were given setting-up exercises, as well as taught the manual of arms and how to march in certain formations, one could not help learning. On the walls were flags from every nation, and all sorts of signal flags. For a sailor must learn to talk by means of signals—lights at night, and flags or semaphore arms by day. So the flags were hung on the walls of the drill hall that the boys might have them before their eyes continually. There was also a big compass, with its thirty-two “points,” painted on one wall, thus there was no excuse for a lad’s not knowing how to box it; which means to reel off the different directions.

Some of the recruits had to be taught to swim, for this is one of the first things insisted on by those in charge of making a man-o’-warsman. But Ned and Frank were masters of this aquatic art, and their ability was soon recognized. In fact they were even detailed to help show others how to get about in the water.

And in the matter of boats, too, our heroes had the advantage over many of their mates. For their years spent on Great South Bay proved of great advantage to them, though the boats in which the drills were given at Norfolk were heavy cutters and large motor-driven skiffs, and were not so easy to maneuver as had been the Ellen.

“Do you wish you were back at Ipswhich again?” asked Ned of his brother one day, after a long boat drill.

“No, to tell you the truth, I think this life just suits us. Of course, I did love the old home, and I don’t dare think about poor Uncle Phil,” said Frank, “but this is really the life for us.”

“You’re right,” declared his brother. And if ever lads were destined for the navy Frank and Ned were.

In the model room, and in the rigging loft, the apprentice seamen, the title borne by Frank and Ned, were taught how to coil down gear, make knots and splices, as well as hitches, and how to manage sails. For though a battleship only moves by steam, there are small boats that have canvas as a motive power, and enough of real sailor knowledge is required to make it necessary that instruction be given.

In spite of his rather mean character and his bullying ways, Hank Dell showed that he knew a great deal more than the average recruit about ropes. He could tie any sort of knot.

“How’d you learn it?” asked Frank, for though he and Ned did not like the boy, they were honest enough to admire his ability.

“A sailor that lived near me showed me how,” was the answer. “He put me in the notion of coming here. But if I’d known how hard it was I wouldn’t have enlisted.”

Hank was lazy and shiftless in many ways, but he had to keep up to the mark, though this he did not like.

In due time Frank and Ned were assigned to the same battalion, and in that they went through many drills, all being designed to give the lads needed instruction. They had to learn how to send and receive messages by means of wig-wag flags, by the semaphore, which is something like a railway signal arm, and they also learned the alphabet, and to send and receive messages by means of colored lights at night.

Target practice, indoors and out, took up considerable time, for the United States requires its blue-jackets to be good shots with small arms as well as with the big guns. Ned and Frank became skillful with the revolver, also, though Ned would never be as expert as his brother. He had not the patience, but with the rifle they were both about on a par.

So well did our heroes apply themselves that both were soon promoted—that is they were made petty officers, and each received two dollars more a month.

“Say, if this keeps on we’ll be able to save enough to get Uncle Phil out on bail,” said Ned, with a laugh, one day as they drew their increase in money.

“That’s right,” admitted Frank. “But he writes that he is getting along pretty well, only he would like the chance to get out in order to go to work to clear his name.”

As a matter of fact, except for the obligation to remain within the legal confines of the federal prison, Mr. Arden was not suffering. He had a comfortable room and enough to eat. But his financial matters were in such shape that he could not get money to reopen his case, all his property, as well as that of the boys, being tied up in the South American matter.

“But when we get through here, and if we don’t want to re-enlist after our four years are up, we’ll be able to earn a good living,” Ned remarked.

“Yes,” agreed Frank, “perhaps a better one than if we had finished at college. Uncle Sam gives thorough training.”

And so their work and play went on at the training station, for there was plenty of play time. After four o’clock in the afternoon the time of Frank and Ned, as well as that of their mates, was their own. They could study if they chose, and many did, or they could play baseball or football, read, or otherwise enjoy life.

Best of all our friends liked the short cruises they were taken on from time to time to familiarize them with life aboard a ship. They learned all the details of hoisting boats, letting go the big anchors, weighing them, or hoisting them aboard again.

As Frank had said, there was a rumor going the rounds that soon some of the more advanced apprentices would be assigned to a real battleship, there to put into actual practice what they had learned.

“And that time can’t come any too soon!” exclaimed Ned.

“So you’re anxious to get out on the deep blue sea?” asked his brother.

“Yes. Aren’t you?”

“Well, I should say I am! But still it has been fine here.”

“I guess so!” exclaimed Ned, with emphasis. “Some different from the time we stood in front of the recruiting office, after we were robbed, wondering what in the world we were going to do.”

“That’s right! I wonder if we’ll ever see those two thieves again?”

“It’s hardly possible,” said Ned. But fate plays strange tricks.

Toward the close of the four months of training, the work became more difficult in a way, and yet it was not too hard. It was always interesting to Frank and Ned. They were very different lads from the rather easy-going ones to whom I introduced you in the storm on Great South Bay, when they watched the big gray battleship.

And at last the day came when our heroes were told that their training time was up, and that they, with others, were to be assigned to the Georgetown, which was then in the Brooklyn navy yard. There Frank and Ned were sent, reporting to the proper officer.

“There she is!” Frank exclaimed, as the gray shape of the very latest of the dreadnaughts loomed before them. “There she is, Ned!”

“Oh, what a beauty!” cried Ned, using the word beauty as one does toward a very homely bulldog.

“All aboard!” exclaimed Frank, as they walked up the inclined bridge to the decks of the fighting monster. “All aboard!”

“Huh! Some new jackies!” remarked one of a group of sailors who watched the arrival of the recruits. “Maybe they won’t be so anxious to be on board once we get to sea,” he sneered.