"By the way," Whistler suddenly observed, drawing an official looking letter from his pocket. "Did I tell you I got this?"

"No," said Torry. "What is it?"

"Hurray!" yelled Frenchy, the quick-witted. "It's our a.s.signment to the _Kennebunk_, I bet you!"

"Is that right, Whistler?" asked Torry.

"That's what it is," admitted Morgan. "We're to report, however, to Mr.

MacMasters at Rivermouth day after to-morrow. But our ultimate destination is the _Kennebunk_, superdreadnaught, just built and fitted out for her first cruise. You know, she was only christened a month ago."

Even the Elmvale disaster and the mystery regarding the German spy, Franz Linder, were at once ousted from the minds of the Navy boys. Their first cruise in a superdreadnaught was of much greater importance.

CHAPTER XI

UNEXPECTED PERIL

The four apprentice seamen went down to Rivermouth in great spirits. The home folks were not actually glad to see them go, but they were a little relieved; for the chums had managed to keep things very lively about Seacove during their sh.o.r.e leave.

The terrible disaster at Elmvale, however, had sobered the four friends a good bit at the last. Seven Knott had gone away before it happened, so he had had no part in their later adventures. They were not even sure that he had gone to join the crew of the _Kennebunk_, the new superdreadnaught to which they were a.s.signed for a brief cruise.

They had heard nothing from Ensign MacMasters, so the Navy boys did not know when or how they were to meet him; but they went to Rivermouth on the early train and had plenty of time to look about the port and see all of the shipping in the harbor.

One craft they did not see. The oil tender, _Sarah Coville_, was not here, and, on making some inquiries of the dock loungers, the boys learned that she had not been seen at Rivermouth since the night they had come in off the submarine chaser in the fog.

Rivermouth was fast becoming a base for patrol boats and submarines, it seemed, although New London and Groton, across the harbor from New London, were really the headquarters for all such craft along the North Atlantic seaboard.

"Maybe we can spy the Three Eights," Torry said, referring to the submarine chaser in which they had pursued the _Sarah Coville_ a few days before. "Mr. MacMasters must have been relieved of the command of her before this, don't you think?"

"Don't know," Whistler rejoined, breaking off in his whistling briefly.

"But where is he?" queried the anxious Frenchy.

"Don't worry," Whistler said. "He'll be here."

"Oi, oi! If he don't come," said Ikey, "we're marooned, eh?"

"That'll be fierce!" growled Frenchy Donahue. "I've got just fifty-five cents left, and one of the nickels is punched. I can see my finish if he doesn't show up to-day."

The chums soon discovered that they were not the only boys from the Navy in town. By ones and twos other bluejackets made their appearance on the water-front. But there was not even a petty officer a.s.signed to the port to meet them.

The four friends from Seacove learned that every enlisted man and apprentice they talked with was a.s.signed to the _Kennebunk_, and immediately all fraternized.

At noon time the bluejackets marched up town in a body to Yancey's and flocked into that eating place like a swarm of hungry locusts. Abe, the waiter, was just about swamped, and Ikey and Frenchy volunteered to help him serve the vociferous crew. Yancey's other customers were very much out of it for the time being.

They were a noisy crowd, but perfectly good-natured; and with the freehandedness characteristic of the sailor ash.o.r.e, bought the best Yancey could provide. The restaurant proprietor had no complaint to make.

In the midst of the jollification a hush began to spread over the room.

It began at the tables near the main entrance of the restaurant; then the men began to get briskly to their feet. With automatic precision they came to attention, saluting the officer who had entered with that jerky little downward gesture of the forearm typical of the bluejacket.

Ikey, starting from the order window with a tray load of food, nearly dropped the whole thing on the floor in trying to salute.

"Ensign MacMasters!" hissed Torry for the benefit of the boys near, who did not know the officer.

And over Ensign MacMasters' shoulder glowed the moon-like face of Seven Knott.

"Keep your seats, men," said the ensign quietly, returning the salute in general. "You have half an hour to finish before we march to the dock.

I take it you are all a.s.signed to my present command?"

He nodded to Seven Knott. Then he took a chair at an empty table and ordered coffee, while the boatswain's mate went around among the other tables making a list of the men's names and their former billets.

Under the eyes of a commissioned officer the boys behaved with much more decorum; but it was still a jolly party that finally lined up on the sidewalk outside Yancey's, prepared to march to the dock.

Ensign MacMasters sought out Whistler Morgan to speak to personally:

"I shall expect you to keep the younger boys straight, Morgan. We're going to be in crowded quarters aboard the patrol boat. Mr. Junior Lieutenant Perkins has come back to his command and we are only guests aboard," and Ensign MacMasters laughed.

"We are about to have a taste of rough weather outside, too, I fancy.

But our instructions are to make the port where the _Kennebunk_ lies before the morning tide."

"Has the submarine patrol boat, Eight-hundred-eighty-eight, come into the harbor, sir?"

"I have just been relieved of her command. I am a.s.signed to take you chaps on her to the battleship. I understand that we shall have a three months' cruise in the _Kennebunk_ before we are returned to the _Colodia_," said the ensign.

Whistler's eyes sparkled. "Then some of us will have a chance of handling the big guns, sir?"

"That is the object, I believe. That, and the fact that the full complement of the battleship's crew cannot be at once made up. There will be changes made in the crew of the _Colodia_ when she returns from her European cruise. If you youngsters do well on the _Kennebunk_ some of you may soon be gunners' mates. The present cruise of the _Kennebunk_ is mainly for practice work."

"Oh, sir! won't we see any active service in her?" cried Whistler.

Mr. MacMasters looked very mysterious. "You must not ask too many questions. I am telling you, Morgan, what is generally known about the orders under which the superdreadnaught sails. But we may see plenty of real work At least, we need not suppose that the _Kennebunk_ will run away from any enemy submarine that may appear along this coast."

"Do you believe there are German subs over here again, sir?"

"It is my private opinion that at least one is here and more are coming," declared Ensign MacMasters. "And there is a supply boat for them lying somewhere off our coast, too. We ran down that _Sarah Coville_ yesterday, by the way, with another cargo of oil aboard. Her captain and crew will surely be interned."

Mr. MacMasters had no more time to talk with Phil Morgan then. The men being ready, the march to the dock was made, Seven Knott bringing up the rear to see that there were no loiterers.

"See that narrow streak!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed one fellow, when they came to the dock where the chaser was moored. "Oh, boy! got your sea legs with you?"

The slate-colored S. P. 888 looked to be no friend to a landsman, especially with the sea as it was just then. Beyond the craft the harbor was tossing in innumerable whitecaps, while through the breach between the capes the Atlantic itself could be seen to be in ugly mood.

They got aboard; and as soon as the moorings were cast off the newcomers were welcomed in friendly fashion, by the regular crew of the chaser, to most of whom Whistler Morgan and his three friends were already known.

"Hey, garby! where d'you sleep on this hooker?" demanded one of the strangers, hoa.r.s.ely and behind the sharp of his hand, of a member of the chaser's crew. "Or do you go ash.o.r.e at nights?"