Part 20 (1/2)
The men of the forecastle set up a shout of approval.
”That's the way to do it, lad! A regular human projectile. We don't need any torpedoes when you are on board.”
Sam got up, blus.h.i.+ng furiously. As he rose a jackie ran his fingers through the shock of red hair.
”s.h.i.+pmate, you'd better keep away from the magazines with that head of hair, or there'll be an explosion that will be heard all the way to Newport.”
”People who play with fire sometimes get burned. You'd better stand clear,” warned Hickey, whereat their was another shout, this time at the expense of the jackie who had taken the liberty with Sam's head.
”I'll bet the Old Man will send his orderly on a run for the barber when he sees red-head here,” vouchsafed another.
The ”Old Man” aboard s.h.i.+p means the captain.
The lads gave no further heed to the chaffing of their new s.h.i.+pmates.
Dan nudged his companion and motioned for the latter to follow him.
”Where?” demanded Sam. ”You don't know where you are going.”
”We must report to the officer of the deck first of all. Lieutenant Commander Devall told me to do so.”
”Oh, I didn't think you would know enough to do it of your own accord,”
was Sam's withering reply as he turned to follow Dan.
The lads made their way over the superstructure, where they were treated to various good-natured criticisms hurled at them by jackies and marines lounging along the deck.
Descending the iron steps that led down to the quarter-deck, the Battles.h.i.+p Boys once more came to attention and saluted the Flag. The officer of the deck brought his right hand to the visor of his cap in acknowledgment of the salute.
The boys stepped up to him, saluting once more.
”Well, men, what is it?”
”We are recruits from the Training Station at Newport, sir. We have come to join the s.h.i.+p, sir.”
”Very good. Messenger!”
A sailor came to him on the run, saluting as he brought up sharply in front of the young ensign who was acting as officer of the deck.
”Take these men to the master-at-arms.”
The messenger crooked a finger; the Battles.h.i.+p Boys saluted the officer of the deck, and, turning, followed their guide. He led them through narrow corridors, up through the gun deck, where the b.u.t.ts of the great eight-inch guns lay s.h.i.+ning in the sunlight that filtered down through open hatches.
At last he halted before a curtained doorway and rapped.
”What it is?” came a voice from inside.
”Officer of the deck directs you to receive two recruits who have just come on board, sir.”
The curtain parted and the lads saw before them a kindly faced man, whose weather-beaten features testified to many months of exposure to wind and sun on the high seas.