Part 10 (1/2)

”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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.s 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 s.h.i.+p 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 battles.h.i.+p!” 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 s.h.i.+ps. 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 pa.s.sed 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.