Part 3 (1/2)
”Sentry!” Dave called.
”Sir!” answered a marine, stepping forward and giving the customary salute.
”Pa.s.s the word for a messenger, sentry!”
”Aye, aye, sir.”
In a twinkling the messenger arrived, saluting.
”Take these cards to the captain, with the respectful compliments of Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell, and state that they await his permission to report to him.”
”Aye, aye, sir.”
In less than a minute the messenger returned, stating that the captain would receive them at once.
Captain Gales, a heavily-built, stately-looking man of fifty, rose from his desk in his office as the two young ensigns stepped through the door. The young men saluted their commander, then stood rigidly at attention.
”Mr. Darrin?” asked the captain, extending his hand, which Dave promptly clasped. Then Dan was greeted.
”Glad to have you with us,” was all the captain said. Then, to the marine orderly who stood just within the door: ”Show these gentlemen to the executive officer.”
”He didn't ask after our folks, nor even if we liked the looks of the s.h.i.+p,” Dalzell complained, in a whisper, as they followed the orderly.
”Be silent, Danny Grin!” urged Darrin, rebukingly. ”This is no time for jesting.”
Commander Bainbridge, the executive officer, received the young officers in his quarters. He proved to be more communicative, talking pleasantly with them for fully a minute and a half after the young men had introduced themselves, and had turned over to him the official papers connecting them with this dreadnought's personnel.
”Let me see, Mr. Dalzell,” said Lieutenant Commander Bainbridge, referring to a record book on his desk, ”you will be in Lieutenant Trent's division. Find Mr. Trent on the quarter deck and report to him. Mr. Darrin, you are a.s.signed to Lieutenant Cantor's division.
I will have an orderly show you to Mr. Cantor.”
Dan departed first, walking very erect and feeling unusually elated, for Dalzell had thoroughly liked the appearance of Trent in their brief meeting, and believed that he would be wholly contented in serving under that superior.
While Dave's quarters were on the port side of the s.h.i.+p, Cantor's proved to be on the right side.
The messenger halted before a curtained doorway, rapping.
”Who's there?” called a voice inside.
”Messenger, sir, showing Ensign Darrin to Lieutenant Cantor, sir.”
”Then you may go, messenger. Darrin, wait just an instant won't you, until I finish my toilet.”
”Very good, sir.”
A moment later the hail came from within.
”Right inside, Darrin!”