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, blushing furiously. As he rose a jackie ran his fingers through the shock of red hair.

"Shipmate, 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 ship means the captain.

The lads gave no further heed to the chaffing of their new shipmates.

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 Battleship 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 ship, 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 Battleship 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 shining 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.

"Come in, lads," he said. "Have you your papers with you?"

"Yes, sir," answered Dan, extending their record papers.

"All clear," said the master-at-arms after a brief glance over the doc.u.ments. "The Training School gives you a special good-conduct mention, I see. That is well. Follow me."

Once more the process of diving through narrow pa.s.sageways, down iron companionways, with chains for hand rails, turning sharp corners, trumping their elbows on projections and the like, was gone through with.

"What are they trying to do with us?" whispered Sam.

"I don't know."

"Guess they're trying out our wind to see whether we are any good or not. This certainly is a sprint. If they keep it up much longer I'll change my mind again and go ash.o.r.e."

Just then the master-at-arms rapped on the casing of another door, and, at command, entered, motioning the boys to follow.

They were now standing before the ship's writer. The writer, after looking over their papers, entered their record in a large book on his desk. Following this he asked them many questions about their past life, going over much the same ground that the recruiting officer had done when they enlisted in New York. After satisfying himself on all points, the writer said:

"I will a.s.sign you to a deck division for the present. Here are the numbers for your sea bags and hammocks. Here are your ditty boxes." He handed to the lads two boxes each about a foot square, neatly made and varnished. A lock and key was attached to each, and on the top of each box was a number.

Sam took his box under his arm. He seemed to be doubtful as to just what he was expected to do with the box, but at the moment he had no opportunity to ask, for once more the master-at-arms was beckoning the boys to follow him.

"There he goes again. Another sprinting match," muttered Hickey. "I shall have an appet.i.te when I get through with this race."

"You don't need exercise to give you an appet.i.te," retorted Dan. "That's one of the things you always have with you."

They were going forward through the interior of the ship, though by this time Sam had lost his bearings entirely. He could not have told whether they were going forward or aft.

"Two recruits just come aboard, sir," announced the master-at-arms.

This time it was to the boatswain's mate that they were introduced.

"Come in, lads," he said in a voice that Sam afterwards decided must have come from the boatswain's boots. The voice was deep and hoa.r.s.e and fearsome, but the smile that followed the words was entirely rea.s.suring.

"He isn't half as fierce as he looks," muttered Hickey in a whisper so loud and plain as to reach the ears of the boatswain's mate. The latter smiled broadly.

"No; you need not be afraid of me, my lads. The boatswain's mate is supposed to be a sort of father and mother, all in one, to the raw recruit. I suppose you have learned everything there is to know since you have been at the Newport station, have you not?"

"We have learned some things, but I fear there are still many things for us to learn," replied Dan, with a half smile.

"Just so. You have learned to make all the various knots that a sailor is supposed to be familiar with?"

"Yes, sir," answered the boys in chorus.

"And belay a fall?"

"Yes, sir; we know how to take a turn on a cleat with a rope.

"Very good. Hickey, my lad, now that you know how to belay a fall, I will ask if you can pa.s.s a stopper?"