CHAPTER XXIII
THE ACT OF A HERO
"All hands prepare for torpedo practice," was again the command on thefollowing morning.
At least six torpedoes were to be fired that day, to complete thepractice required of each ship. The "Long Island" got up steam andpulled away to a remote part of the bay, so as not to be bothered bythe other ships of the fleet. In fact, every ship in the bay was doingthe same thing--getting off by itself.
The same tactics were to be followed as had been used on the day whenthe battleship went aground; that is, firing when the ship wastraveling at full speed, about seventeen knots an hour.
The red-headed boy was retained on shipboard to attend to thewig-wagging, Dan going out in the motor boat with an engineer andcoxswain.
"Red flag up!" shouted Dan. "Keep clear of the course."
The ship's siren blew, and soon they saw the path made by the marinemonster heading off in their direction. Dan, in the motor boat, wasnear the extreme end of the range.
"Better sheer off, coxswain, because you can't tell where the oldtorpedo is going when it gets near the end of its run. There she goes."
The torpedo took a long dive at an angle of about forty-five degreesfrom her course.
"Look where she's going!"
Off in the direction that the projectile was headed was a fleet offishermen in small boats, tending to their nets, which were scatteredover an area of a quarter of a mile, standing almost end to end.
"Head toward them, head toward them! We must warn them!"
The coxswain was a seaman, not a coxswain by appointment, and he didnot appear to be as familiar with the work as he might have been. Theregular coxswain of the motor boat was in the sick bay, though Dan didnot know this.
"Torpedo heading your way! Look out for her!" he shouted with hands tomouth. "Pull out, men; pull out for your lives!"
The fishermen looked at the Battleship Boy, standing poised on theplunging bow of the motor boat, wondering if he had gone crazy.
"Pull out, I tell you! There she comes!"
The motor boat was driving; ahead full speed.
"They'll be hit, sure as fate," groaned the boy. "They can't see herbecause they are so low in the water."
A yell from the fishermen told him that they had made sudden discoveryof their peril. Dan, with his wig-wag flag, motioned to them toseparate at a certain point. For a wonder they understood and laid totheir oars in great haste.
All at once from the water right at the side of one of the fishingboats the torpedo emerged. It missed the boat by a matter of inchesonly, but the tail of the projectile hooked the keel. Like a flash thefishing boat turned over and the men were scrambling in the water.
"Drive in there, full speed!" commanded Dan.
"We'll get fouled in the fish nets."
"Never mind the nets. Those men may drown. Drive in there, I say!"
The man at the wheel did as the Battleship Boy had ordered him to.
"Now, slow down. Drift in."
A moment more and the life lines shot out, a half dozen wet and angryfishermen being hauled aboard the motor boat. The men were fightingangry.
Shaking the water from their clothes, they started for Dan with angryimprecations. Not only had they been upset, but they discovered thatthe truant torpedo was driving through their nets. Yells of rage fromthe fishermen in other boats told Dan that they, too, had discoveredwhat was occurring.
On went the torpedo, ripping net after net. It seemed bent upondestruction, for, after passing through all the nets in its course, itturned almost squarely about and dived through the rest of the nets.Every net, with its burden of fish, was utterly destroyed.
Dan grabbed up a boat hook as he saw the rescued men meant business.
"Stand back!" he commanded. "I'll smash the first one of you who comesforward. Ahoy there, fishing boats. Come up here and take these menoff, and no nonsense about it, either."
The men hesitated.
"Throw him overboard!" cried a more turbulent spirit.
"Try it, if you want to, men, but I warn you this is a government boat.If you commit an assault on board, or on one of its crew, you will bein for a long term in a federal prison. Think you want to take thatchance?"
That settled it. The men realized that the young sailor was right, andtheir anger cooled almost at once.
"The government will pay you for all the damage done to your nets, asyou well know. Draw alongside here," he commanded to one of the boats."Back out, coxswain. We are drifting around into the nets."
Dan wig-wagged to one of the whaleboats, asking them to row in and makefast to the torpedo, for his own boat could get in no further. Thefishermen, thinking he was signaling for assistance, did not wait forthe fishing boat that was coming to take them off. They sprangoverboard and swam for the boat.
"You didn't have to do that," called Dan. "You'll be saying next thatwe made you jump overboard."
The whaleboat made fast to the torpedo very quickly; then one of thesteamers towed the huge projectile back to the ship, where it washoisted aboard.
For the next shot the motor boat took up its station down nearer to theship, about half way between the end of the range and the battleship.Orders from the ship were to have the whaleboats take positions at theend of the course. They, being of lesser draught, could get in closerto shore and could get the torpedo out in case it drove into shallowwater as before.
Near by lay steamer number two with twelve men and an ensign on board.Both the motor boat and the steamer cruised slowly about while waitingfor the red flag to go up on the signal halyard, warning them thatanother shot was about to be fired.
"Lay back farther," came the signal from the battleship.
"Motor boat or steamer?" wig-wagged Dan.
"Both."
"Steamer there!" called Dan.
"Aye, aye."
"Battleship orders you to lay back farther, and to keep off the course."
The steamer shifted its position, and Dan's boat pulled farther away,at the same time moving off a little more toward the shore. The twoboats were now on opposite sides of the course that the torpedo wasexpected to travel, though one can never be sure just where theseinstruments of war are likely to go.
"Battleship under way," signaled Dan to the other small boats out onthe field.
For a time he watched the warship that was heading for the other sideof the bay. Finally the ship turned and started back, with a big,white "bone between her teeth," as the saying goes when a ship isplowing up the sea.
"Red flag going up," called the signal boy. "Wherry, there, ordered tolay to starboard of the target," he signaled to the little boat dancingon the waves half a mile away.
The small boat quickly took its position as ordered from the ship.
The siren blew a long blast, and with eyes turned toward the ship, allthe boat crews pulled back to a safe distance.
"Torpedo on the way," signaled Sam Hickey from his position on the ship.
"Torpedo under way," wig-wagged Dan Davis to the other boats. "Getunder way, the battleship signals," he told the little fleet.
At the same time the motor boat started along the course that thetorpedo was expected to follow, the small steamer a little in the lead.
"She's running close to the surface," muttered the Battleship Boy,watching the projectile. "I can see the water spurting from her bows.She'll never complete the run."
He turned to look at the steamer. He observed that she was at rightangles to the course.
"Sheer off! Sheer off!" shouted Dan. "You're right on the course.You'll be hit!"
"We're disabled. Motor boat, there!" shouted the ensign in the smallsteamer.
"Aye, aye, answered Dan.
"Lay over and help us out. We've thrown our propeller."
"Full speed ahead. May I take the tiller?"
The acting coxswain good-naturedly stepped aside, Dan taking thesteering wheel of the motor boat from h
is hands.
The lad's eyes traveled rapidly from the advancing torpedo to thesteamer that was rolling on a heavy swell, her crew of more than adozen men leaning over the side, straining their eyes to make out thetorpedo.
"She's going to strike us, sir," shouted the coxswain.
"Can't help it," answered the ensign. "All hands be ready to gooverboard when I give the command. Some of us will be caught. Wedon't know where she is going to hit us."
The officer knew that only a miracle could save some of his crew frombeing crushed to death when the heavy torpedo struck the littlesteamer. To move the men to safe parts of the boat was not possible,for it was impossible to say where the projectile would strike.Perhaps she might change her course and not hit them at all. Thatseemed to be the only hope now.
Turning their eyes, they saw the motor boat smashing through the sea,throwing the water high from her bows. Dan Davis was leaning wellforward, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the enginecontrol, his eyes watching the torpedo and the steamer.
Now he would slow down ever so little, then drive ahead at full speed,as if jockeying to cross the line in an international race.
The ensign was watching him with fascinated interest. He knew that theboy had some daring plan in mind, but what that plan was he could notunderstand. The officer was on the point of shouting to the BattleshipBoy to turn in and push them out of the way, but he refrained.
Dan had thought of this very thing, but he knew the chances wereagainst his being able to do so. He chose a bolder and more brilliantway of saving the boat's crew, or of trying to save them.
The engineer of the motor boat was under the hood watching the engines.
"Get out of there quick!" commanded Dan.
The engineer came tumbling out from his cramped quarters.
"What--what----" he exclaimed.
"Keep still! Don't talk to me. All hands hold fast, for something isgoing to happen in a minute."
At that instant the lad swung the bow of his boat about, heading itdirectly toward the course of the advancing torpedo.
"Look out! You'll run into her!" yelled the engineer. "Don't you seeshe's just under the surface. She'll be on top--there she is now!"
"Stand fast!" roared the boy.
Torpedo and motor boat were driving toward a point where they mustsurely meet. Now Dan threw the speed full on.
Ere any of those wide-eyed observers realized what was occurring, thecrash came.
The prow of the motor boat and the nose of the torpedo met with a crashthat was heard far down the line. For a brief instant, projectile andboat rose into the air like two locomotives in a head-on collision.
Dan Davis was lifted clear off his feet and hurled through the air,head first, into the sea. The motor boat settled back and beganfilling with water, half drowning the two stunned seamen who lay in thebottom of the boat. The torpedo, however, like some living monster ofthe deep, seemed to shake herself angrily, then she settled down andshot forward, barely grazing the stern of the steamer.
Dan Davis' heroic effort had deflected the torpedo slightly from itscourse, just enough to cause it to clear the little steamer, thussaving the lives of at least part of the crew aboard her. A life ringat the end of a rope brought Dan out of the salt water not much theworse for his thrilling experience.
"How's the motor boat?" was his first question.
"Pretty hard hit, I guess," answered the ensign. "But that doesn'tmatter."
The other steamer, having observed that an accident had occurred, puton all steam and hastened to the scene of the wreck. About that timesome one discovered that the ship was making signals, and the ensignasked Dan if he felt able to answer them.
For answer the lad asked for a signal flag. One was placed in hishands, together with a spy glass.
"Battleship asking what the trouble is," he called.
"Tell them."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"And, while you are about it, you might tell them that Seaman Davis, byhis quick wit and pluck, saved the steamer and perhaps all our lives."
"Is that a command, sir?"
"No. Only a suggestion," answered the ensign, with an indulgent smile,as he noted the boy's confusion.
"Battleship signaling for motor boat and steamer to return, sir."
"Tell them we both will have to come in in tow, then."
"Orders for second steamer to tow us in, sir."
The ensign gave the order to the other steamer.
While all this was going on a whaleboat had run alongside the motorboat and had taken off the two men who had been left on her. They weremore or less dazed, but not seriously hurt. A brief examination of themotor boat's engine developed the fact that the engine had beenwrenched loose from its foundation. The nose of the boat had beenbadly smashed.
Dan was of the opinion, however, that the damage to the boat could berepaired in a day. Things were not nearly so bad as they looked to beat first glance.
The two disabled boats, towed by the steamer, made their way slowlyback to the ship.
"This torpedo practice has been a fine piece of business," Dan confidedto a shipmate. "It strikes me that this will be a good time to quit,or somebody will get hurt."
"I guess you are IT, then. You'll catch it when the captain sees hismotor boat," answered the other, with a laugh.
The captain's lips pursed as, through his glasses, he made out thebroken bow of his boat. He said nothing until Dan and the ensign hadboarded the battleship.
"Ensign, who is responsible for the condition of that boat?" hedemanded.
The ensign stepped aside and held a few moments' earnest conversationwith the commanding officer. As he went on the stern expression on thecaptain's face gave place to one of admiration. He nodded his headapprovingly. Those who did not understand how the motor boat had beenwrecked, felt sorry for Seaman Davis. In fact, Dan was beginning tofeel sorry for himself, as he realized what he had done.
"Davis, come here!" commanded the captain.
The boy approached, saluting.
"Mr. Brant has told me the story of your brilliant exploit. Icongratulate you, my lad."
"I--I am sorry, sir, that I smashed your boat."
"What is the boat when compared to a human life?"
"That--that is what I thought, sir. I did not think you would feelvery sorry about the boat when you knew."
"I should say not. But what about your own life? You gave no thoughtto that, did you?"
"N--no, sir."
"That is the way with all brave men, and that act of yours was one ofthe bravest I have ever seen. I want every man on board this ship toknow about it--to hear the full story. Mr. Coates," beckoning to theexecutive officer.
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Call a general muster on the quarter-deck to-night and read mycommendation of Seaman Davis' heroic conduct."
"Aye, aye, sir,"
"But, Davis, I am sorry to say that your racing ambitions will not begratified this fall."
Dan's face showed his disappointment, but he said no word.
"The first torpedo, one of the unlucky ones, fell on Boatswain's MateHarper as it was being hoisted aboard, and broke a leg. Some one wasto blame for the accident. I do not know who, but I shall know."
"Oh, that is too bad!" breathed Dan, turning away to his disappointment.
"It's all off, Sam," he said when a few minutes later he joined hischum.
"What's off!"
"The race we were to row day after to-morrow."
"On account of Joe Harper?"
"Yes, have you seen him?"
"No; I guess they won't let anybody see him to-day."
The boys went about their work for the rest of the day with downcastcountenances. The entire crew was in the doldrums. All their hopes,pinned to the "Long Island's" racing crew, had been suddenly dashed. Arace now seemed out of the question. There was neither laughter norsong in the forecastle that night. All hands went to
bed surly anddisgusted.
On the following morning the captain's orderly called Dan Davis fromhis gun station, with the information that the captain directed SeamanDavis to proceed to the sick bay to see Boatswain's Mate Harper.
Dan obeyed the order, wondering at its having come to him through thesource it did.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Harper," said the lad as he entered the sickbay, and the boatswain's mate extended a hand to him. "I'm sorry forthe race, and I am sorry for you. It's too bad."
"Yes; I've got a bad knockout. I don't believe my leg ever will beright. I guess they will retire me, all right. But that isn't what Isent for you to talk about. I want to talk about the race."
"The race? Why, there won't be any race now--that is, so far as we areconcerned. Some of the other ships will carry off the cup now."
Harper smiled wanly.
"There must be. The crew must run the race just the same."
"But it will not be possible without you."
"Perhaps there is no one on board who understands the racing game quiteas well as I do. I have run many of these gig races, Davis. But thereis one man on board in whom I have great confidence. He has the pluck.He knows rowing. Even if he doesn't win, which could hardly beexpected of him, he'll make some of the other fellows work for theirlaurels."
Dan's eyes were glowing.
"I--I am so glad to hear you say that, Mr. Harper. That is good news,indeed. Then we will have the race after all?"
"Yes; the race will be run. They shall not have an opportunity to saythat the battleship 'Long Island' got cold feet at the last minute."
"They'd better not say it before me," answered Dan in a low voice.
"That's the talk!"
"May I ask who the man is who will act as coxswain of the racing gig into-morrow's race, sir?"
"Yes, you may. You will be surprised when I tell you. The man who isgoing to run the 'Long Island's' boat is named Daniel Davis."
"Da--Da--I--I am to be coxswain to-morrow?" gasped the boy.
"Yes, you, Dan. And you're going to do yourself and every man on thisgreat ship proud."
Dan sat down in a chair rather suddenly. His face was pale and hiseyes seemed larger than usual.
"I--I am to race the crew?"
"You are to race the crew. I have asked that you be released from dutyto-day. Go off somewhere by yourself and think it over. Get yourbalance; then come back here and we will talk it over."
Dan walked out of the sick bay without a word. His emotions were sogreat that he could not talk.
CHAPTER XXIV
CONCLUSION
The jackies of the battleship set up a great cheer.
Coxswain Davis and the eleven men of his racing crew were lined up onthe quarterdeck of the "Long Island." On the decks of a dozen otherships in the bay a similar spectacle might have been seen.
The great race for the silver cup was about to be run. But, now thatJoe Harper was unable to guide the boat of the "Long Island," the otherships feared none save the racing crew of the "Georgia."
"Never mind if you don't win, Dynamite. You've got the pluck; you'vegot the sand. It won't be your fault. But make 'em hump. Make 'emwork for what they get," shouted a jackie.
Dan smiled faintly. There was little color in his face, but no one wasable to find a trace of nervousness there.
"If that boy had the experience, I should expect to see him win,"confided an officer to his companion.
"I don't know. This putting green men in a racing boat is badbusiness. I hear he has put his friend Sam Hickey in as stroke oar."
"Yes."
The officer shook his head.
"All aboard," commanded Dan. The boy had received detailedinstructions from Joe Harper; yet, for all of that, all depended uponDan and his crew. No one could coach them to the winning point from asick bed.
The men took their places in the gig. A gun was fired from theflagship warning the crews to start for the stake boat. As they pulledaway the sailors lined the side of the battleship, cheering until theycould cheer no more. Something in the quiet determination of Dan Davishad filled them with hope. A practice spin, the night before, had putDan and his men in closer touch. They, too, felt a confidence in thelittle coxswain who never lost his head nor got excited, no matter howgreat the emergency.
The race was to be four miles, two miles and a turn, starting from thescratch, the bow of the flagship marking the starting point. Theturning buoy was just past the "Long Island."
The racing boats lined up off the flagship where the men received theirinstructions from the referee, who shouted out his orders through amegaphone. The racers were to start on a gun signal.
The Battleship Boy's slender figure, hunched down in the stern of the"Long Island's" gig, brought a smile to the face of many men thatbright afternoon. It seemed a joke that a boy--a mereapprentice--should be given so important a post as that. Danunderstood; he knew that the other crews were laughing at him.
"Lads," he said, as they were paddling around for the scratch, "theythink we are some kind of joke. Let us show them that we can give, aswell as take. Keep steady. There's credit enough to go all around.If we win, no one of us will have won. All of us will have. If welose, all of us will have lost. All ready now; toss oars!"
An interval of a few seconds followed.
"Let fall! Attention! Stand by!"
Every back was bent.
"Steady, Sam. Do your prettiest."
Sam made no reply.
"Boom!"
The flagship's six-pounder belched forth the starting signal.
"Go!"
The command from the little coxswain came out like the bark of a pistol.
The racing gigs of the fleet leaped forward, driven by powerful armsand backs, the bows of each boat rising right out of the water underthe first pull of the long oars.
Sam, at command of the coxswain, had started in with twenty-fivestrokes per minute. The other racing boats had struck a higher pace,resulting in their forging ahead. The "Idaho's" boat took the lead atthe start.
Dan was sitting calmly in the stern of his racing gig, his hand restinglightly on the tiller, watching his men and at the same time keepinghis eyes roaming over the water, noting the position of the other boatsand steering his course. He used the "Long Island" for his mark,steering to starboard of her, for at the distance no skipper was ableto make out the turning buoy.
"Thirty-two!"
Sam hit up the stroke.
"Hold it there steady!"
The "Long Island's" gig forged ahead a little. They were now half wayto the battleship.
"Thirty-five!"
The little boat was beginning to send a shower of spray over the backsof the oarsmen. Other boats were astern of them now, but four leadershad a good start.
"Thirty-eight! Make a good showing. We're going to pass our ship now.Give them a run for their money. 'Idaho,' 'Georgia' and 'Connecticut'now have the lead. Take it easy, boys; don't get excited. We'll drivethem out pretty soon. 'Idaho' is splashing and 'Georgia' just caught acrab."
The gig was rapidly closing the gap that lay between it and the threeboats ahead of them. The fourth one was abreast, the others, a shortdistance astern.
"We've got them, boys. They shot their big guns at the start. Nowkeep her going as if you were an old family clock."
A roar sounded in their ears as they plunged past the battleship. Thehuge cage masts were white with jackies, yelling and swinging theirhats, while every inch of rail on that side of the ship was occupied byofficers and men. The turn was made. The "Long Island's" gig wasleading the second boat by three boat lengths.
"Snap!"
The stroke oar tumbled over backwards. Sam's oar had snapped short off.
A great groan went up from the decks of the "Long Island."
"It's all off," cried an officer. "The stroke oar is broken."
"Wait! What's going on over there?"
/> "Jump!" shouted Coxswain Davis. "Jump, I say!"
Sam hesitated, for an instant; then the purpose of his chum dawned uponhim as he rose, crouching, from his seat.
Dan gave his companion a mighty push and Sam Hickey went overboard. Alife ring went soaring after him.
"Into his place, number two!"
The man who had been Joe Harper's stroke oar slipped over into the seatvacated by Sam Hickey.
Dan sprang up on the rear seat with the tiller between his legs.
"Go! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," hecounted rapidly, to get the new stroke started in his pace.
The "Idaho" and "Connecticut" had gained a slight lead over Dan's boatin the brief delay.
Observing Coxswain Davis' remarkable act, the sailors once more set upa yell, and such a yell as it was!
A boat was quickly manned and a crew of jackies pulled to the placewhere the red-haired Sam was clinging lazily to the life ring that Danhad cast to him.
"He threw me overboard," complained Sam.
"That is the greatest piece of quick wit that I ever saw in my life,"laughed the captain excitedly. "That boy deserves to win, but he cannever do it with one man short in the boat."
Coxswain Davis had other views. He was still standing on the seat ofthe rocking, plunging boat, snapping out his commands to his men, andevery man in that boat was thrilled with the encouragement that thelittle coxswain had instilled into him.
"Go it! Beef it! More steam, number four! Swing further, numbereight! Hip! hip! hip! hip! hip! Hit her up! Faster, faster, I tellyou! You're winning, I tell you! Drive it! Forty-five, stroke oar."
"I--I can't," gasped the stroke.
"Drive it, I tell you!" yelled Dan Davis, grabbing up the boat hook,brandishing it threateningly over the head of the stroke oar.
"Hip! hip! hip! hip!" he began sharp and quick, setting the pace forthe higher speed. The stroke oar, with the perspiration running downhis body, reached the stroke demanded.
"Now, hold it, or I'll bat you with the boat hook!" threatened Dan."Hip! hip! hip! hip! Gaining on the 'Idaho.' We've passed her.Quarter of a boat length to the good. We've got to make it more, orshe'll spurt us out at the finish. Hold her there. Here she comes.She's abreast. She's spurting. Hit her up to fifty. Hit it, if itkills you! You've got to win this race, if every man in the boat dropsdead."
Dan was dancing about on the slender support of the stern seat, yellinglike a madman, though there was not the slightest trace of excitementto be seen in his face. Those on the flagship could hear him shout andsee his body moving back and forth to set the pace for the stroke oar.It was a sight that not a man who saw it ever forgot. Discipline onboard the ships near by was almost forgotten. The men were shoutingand yelling in their excitement.
The "Idaho" and the "Long Island" were bow and bow. Scarcely two boatlengths separated them abeam. Dan knew they were there, but he did notlook. His eyes were on his men. A slip, a mistake now, and all wouldbe lost.
"Fifty-five for the last time. Every ounce of muscle on the oars,lads. Go it. Kill 'em! Eat 'em alive! Whoop it up! Hip! hip! hip!hip!"
The words came out with explosive force, almost with the rapidity of aGatling gun's fire.
"Boom!" roared the flagship's six-pounder.
Two boats shot over the line with every siren in the fleet wailing itsgreeting to the winning crew.
The men in the "Long Island's" gig did not know they had finished.
"Cease rowing!" commanded Dan in a weak voice. His strength waswell-nigh spent. The gig's crew swayed in their seats as theyfeathered their oars, with difficulty holding their weary bodies fromgoing overboard. They were almost wholly spent.
"Long Island" wins by half a boat length," announced an officer fromthe deck of the flagship.
A signal fluttered from the peak of the flagship's signal halyard,giving the news to the rest of the fleet.
"Boom!" roared the "Long Island's" six-pounder; then her sirenscreeched madly.
Dan stood up and saluted the officer of the deck of the flagship.
The winning crew rowed slowly back to their own ship, after a fewminutes' rest. As they approached the "Long Island" the siren letloose again. Sailors danced and yelled, throwing their caps into theair, mad with delight.
"Enough way," commanded Dan as his boat drew alongside of their ship.A group of sailors dashed down the gangway, stretching out their handsfor him.
"Get the boys out first," he said, with a pale smile. "They've workedharder than I have." But the jackies would not have it that way. Theyhoisted Dan to their shoulders. Others did the same with the rest ofthe crew, and as the victorious men came up over the side, the ship'sband struck up "The Star Spangled Banner." A scene of wild excitementfollowed. Nothing like it had ever been seen on the quarter-deck ofthe battleship. Dan Davis and his crew had won what had beenconsidered a hopeless battle; they had won the cup in the greatest racein the history of the American Navy.
The captain, with his officers, as soon as they could get near enoughto do so, grasped Dan by the hand. He and Sam Hickey, and the othersof the crew, were the heroes of the hour.
Davis and Hickey were called before the captain a few minutes later, inthe presence of the entire ship's company.
"Lads, this has been a great day," said the commanding officer. "Weare all proud of you. And this is a most appropriate time to tell yousomething else I have to say--to read an order from the Navy Departmentat Washington which directs that Seaman Daniel Davis, for meritoriousconduct, in saving the battleship from wreck, be immediately advancedto the petty-officer class, with the rating of gunner's mate, firstclass. The same order directs that Seaman Samuel Hickey be advanced tocoxswain. Lads, I congratulate you. You deserve it. Continue as youhave been doing, and some day you will be on the quarter-deck."
Another deafening roar of applause greeted the announcement. TheBattleship Boys had made their first real step upward. They had wontheir grades as petty officers. But they were only at the beginning.The ladder that they had set themselves to climb still towered highabove them. They were bound to climb, however. They determined thatthey would not remain on a lower rung of the ladder. This was merely abeginning. Other promotions were ahead of them, promotions that weredestined to come sooner than either lad dreamed. The story of thesenew honors, of other brave deeds, valiant efforts and stirringexperiences in other climes will be told in a following volume,entitled "THE BATTLESHIP BOYS IN FOREIGN SERVICE; Or, Earning NewRatings in European Seas."
THE END.
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