THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ON BATTLE PRACTICE
by
CAPTAIN WILBUR LAWTON
New YorkHurst & CompanyPublishers
Copyright, 1911,byHurst & Company
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A RED-HOT STOVE AND DESTINY 5
II. "WE'RE GOING TO JOIN THE NAVY" 17
III. UNCLE SAM GETS TWO RAW RECRUITS 28
IV. THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS HAVE AN ADVENTURE 42
V. TWO LADS WITH THE "RIGHT RING" 51
VI. A COWARD'S BLOW 62
VII. "WE ARE PART OF THE FLEET" 70
VIII. HERC TAKES A COLD BATH 83
IX. A NAVAL INITIATION 98
X. NED HOLDS HIS COUNSEL 106
XI. BREAKING TWO ROOKIES 116
XII. A BULLY GETS A LESSON 126
XIII. HERC LEARNS WHAT "THE BRIG" IS 136
XIV. A PLOT OVERHEARD 143
XV. ORDERED AFT 154
XVI. A BIT OF PROMOTION 163
XVII. JIU-JITSU VS. MUSCLE 171
XVIII. THE BOYS GET ACQUAINTED WITH BIG GUNS 183
XIX. IN THE MIDST OF PEACE 192
XX. HERC A LIVING TARGET 200
XXI. AFLOAT AND ASHORE 212
XXII. A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 223
XXIII. A JACKIE AGAINST WOLVES 231
XXIV. IN THE PULSIFERS' HANDS 242
XXV. THREE MINUTES OF LIFE 253
XXVI. A BLUFF CALLED 264
XXVII. A STRANGE RETURN 273
XXVIII. A HIT WITH CHAOSITE 282
XXIX. THE STUFF A JACKIE'S MADE OF 292
The Dreadnought Boys On Battle Practice.
CHAPTER I.
A RED-HOT STOVE AND DESTINY.
"Isn't it a dandy picture--the real thing--just as I've always imaginedit. Herc!"
Ned Strong wheeled from the gaudily colored lithograph he had beenadmiring, and turned to a red-headed youth of about his own age--almosteighteen--who stood beside him in the postoffice and general store atLambs' Corners, a remote village in the Catskill mountains.
"It's purty as a yearling colt," responded the lad addressed, examiningonce more, with an important air of criticism, the poster in question.The lithograph had been tacked up only the day before, but by this timehalf the boys in the neighboring country had examined it.
The poster represented a stalwart, barefooted jackie, in Uncle Sam'snatty uniform, standing on the flying-bridge of a battleship and"wig-wagging" the commanding officer's messages. The bright-red signalflag, with its white center, which he wielded, made a vivid splashof color. In the background a graphically depicted sea, fleckedwith "whitecaps," was pictured. As a whole, the design was one wellcalculated to catch the attention of all wholesome, adventurous lads,particularly two, who, like our new acquaintances, had never seen anywater but the Hudson River. Indeed, as that majestic stream lay twentymiles from their home, they had only set eyes on that at long intervals.
"Look how that ship seems to ride that sea--as if those racing wavesdidn't bother her a bit," went on Ned, dwelling on the details of theposter, which was issued to every postoffice in the land by the Bureauof Navigation.
"And look at the sailor," urged Herc Taylor, Ned's cousin. Herc hadbeen christened Hercules by his parents, who, like Ned's, had died inhis infancy, but Herc he had always been and was likely to remain.
"What's he waving at--sea-cows?"
"See here, Herc Taylor, this is serious. Wouldn't working for Uncle Samin a uniform like that on a first-class fighting-ship suit you betterthan doing chores? How would a life on the ocean wave appeal to you,eh?" inquired Ned, with rather a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.
"First-rate," rejoined Herc. "It makes me think of those seastories--those you are so fond of reading, Ned, 'Frank on a Gunboat,'and the rest."
"I guess a modern Dreadnought is a whole lot different to the vesselson board which Frank fought," smiled Ned; "but I must admit that thatpicture has put some queer notions into my head, too."
"For instance, what?" demanded Herc, in whose eyes there was a glimmerwhich would have said plain as a pike-staff to those who knew him thatthe red-headed lad had come to some sort of determination.
"For instance, that I'd like to be a sailor for Uncle Sam, and work myway up, like some of those admirals and naval heroes we've read about!"exclaimed Ned, with considerable animation.
"Shake!" cried Herc; "that's what I've been thinking of ever since Isaw that picture----"
"Which was ten minutes ago," put in Ned.
"Never mind; you haven't been looking at it any longer, and I can seethat you are as hard hit by the idea of joining the navy as I am,"briskly interrupted Herc.
"I don't know but what you are right, Herc," rejoined Ned thoughtfully."I've been thinking that if we go on as we are, we will be doing thesame old round of duties on grandpa's farm ten years from now, just aswe are doing to-day. Things don't change much in the country, as youknow, while in the navy----"
Ned stopped, but his glowing face and sparkling eyes finished thespeech for him.
"While in the navy, bing! bang!--Promotion.--Fire theguns!--Target!--Good shot!--First mate!--Medal!--Introduction to thepresident.--Up in the fighting-top.--Down in a submarine.--Bottom ofthe sea.--Top of the mast--whoop!" exploded Herc, in a way that he hadwhen he was excited. It was for all the world like listening to thedetonations of an exploding package of firecrackers.
"Well, the poster here _does_ say that there are a lot of good chancesfor promotion," soberly put in Ned, who had been examining the textbelow the lithograph with some attention, while Herc had beenexploding. "I've a good mind to try it, Herc," he concluded suddenly.
"Count me in on that, too," heartily rejoined his cousin, giving afew impromptu steps of what he declared was a sailor's hornpipe;"and when we're both admirals we'll come back here and astonish thenatives--including Hank Harkins."
"Who said Hank Harkins?" growled a harsh voice from the rear of thestore, for the postoffice was tucked away in one corner of the Lambs'Corners Emporium, in which, it was the boast of its proprietor, youcould buy anything from a needle to a gang-plow.
As the words reached the boys' ears, a tall, hulking youth, of abouttheir own age--shouldered his way through the knot of loungers gatheredabout the stove--for it was December, and cold.
"I'll thank you two to keep my name out of your conversation," growledthe newcomer, as he lurched up to the cousins.
"Oh, we'd not use it unless we had to," rejoined Herc, facing round,his red hair seeming to bristle like the hackles on the back of anangry dog. "Since you were mean enough to persuade your father topost his land against us so that we could not take the short cut tothe store, we are not likely to want to discuss your points,--good orotherwise--promiscuous."
"See here, Herc Taylor," glowered Hank, who had considerable reputationin the village as a bully, and had sustained his renown as a hardfighter and wrestler in many a tough contest, "I don't know what youmean by promiscuous----"
"No, I didn't think
you would," grinned Herc cheerfully.
"But I want to tell you here and now, that if I have any more of yourimpudence, I'm going to lick you, and lick you good," concluded thebully; his enmity to the two boys, who lived on an adjoining farm tohis father's, not at all allayed by Herc's aggressive tone and evidentcontempt.
"And I want to tell you that we don't want anything to do with you,"retorted Herc; "we're mighty particular about our company."
"You young whelp, I'll have to teach you some manners," grated Hankangrily, edging up threateningly toward the red-headed youth, who, forhis part, did not budge the fraction of an inch.
"You'll be a teacher who never studied then," retorted Herc hotly, ashe turned away to join Ned, who had been regarding the disputants withnarrowed eyes, but had said nothing so far. He knew Hank Harkins fora bully, and believed him to be a coward at heart, but he had no wishto get into a fistic argument with him in a public place like Goggins'store and postoffice.
But by this time a number of the loungers about the stove had becomeattracted by the raised tones of Hank and Herc and crowded around thetwo; and Hank, nothing loth to having an audience, proceeded to giveHerc what he elegantly termed a "tongue-lashing."
"So far as posting our farm went," he sputtered vindictively, "you knowwhy that was done, to keep you two from pot-hunting over it. Killingevery rabbit you could and pulling down walls to get them out. Why,"exclaimed Hank, turning to the auditors who stood with gaping mouthsin various interested postures, "those two fellows made a hole in oursouth wall that let our whole herd of milch cows through, and----"
He stopped short at a sudden interruption.
"That's a lie." The words came from Ned Strong.
"Yes, you know it is. You pulled down that wall yourself and then toescape getting in trouble with your father you blamed us for it,"snapped Herc.
The bully's face twitched. He grew pale with anger and his rage wasnone the less because he knew Herc's charges to be true.
"Call me a liar, will you?" he gritted out, springing at Ned withconsiderable agility, considering his hulking frame and generalappearance of clumsy strength.
"Take that!"
Smack!
The bully's big hand landed fair on Ned's cheek, bruising it andraising an angry crimson mark.
Unwilling as Ned was to fight in such a place, the insult was toomaddening to be allowed to go unnoticed by any one but an arrantcoward; and Ned was far from being that.
Before Hank had gathered himself together from the force of hisunexpected blow, the quiet Ned was transformed from his usual docileself, into a formidable antagonist. His eyes blazed with anger as hecrouched into a boxing posture for a breath, and then lunged full atHank Harkins, who met the lighter lad's onslaught with a defiant sneer.
So quickly had it all happened that no one had had time to say a word,much less to interfere. Paul Stevens, the owner of the store, was outin the granary at the back helping a farmer get a load of oats onto hiswagon.
The loungers, nothing averse to having the monotony of their unceasingdiscussions of the crops and politics interrupted in such dramaticfashion, fell back to give the battlers room. Not one of them, however,dreamed of but one issue to the battle and that was that Ned Strongwas in for a terrible thrashing; but, as the seconds slipped by, andseveral blows had been exchanged between the two, it began to appearthat Ned was not going to prove such an easy prey as had at firstseemed manifest.
Hank Harkins himself, who had been surprised at any resistance fromHerc's cousin, began to look uneasy as Ned, instead of going downbefore the perfect hail of blows the bully delivered, skillfullyavoided most of the lunges and contented himself with ducking anddodging; only changing his tactics now and then to deliver a blow whenhe saw a favorable opportunity.
"Good boy, Ned," breathed Herc, as he saw his companion wading intoHank Harkins in such surprising style.
Even the loyal Herc had not hitherto dreamed that beneath Ned's quietpersonality had been hidden such ability to take care of himself.
Hank, after the first few minutes, was breathing heavily, and the sweatbegan to pour off his face. A pampered, only son, he never did muchhard work about the farm, whereas Ned's muscles were trained fine asnickel-steel by hay-pitching, wood-sawing and other strenuous tasks.His training stood him in good stead now.
Overmatched by Hank, he undoubtedly was, but his hard frame wasthe more enduring. Hank's punches, terrific enough at first, begangradually to grow weaker, more particularly as most of them had beenwasted on empty space.
Finally Hank, perceiving that he was reaching the end of his rope,clenched his teeth and, with set face and narrowed eyes, made up hismind to end the fight in one supreme effort.
He hurled himself on his lighter antagonist like a thunderbolt, butNed, with a skillful duck, avoided the full fury of the onslaught, andrising just as the bully launched his blows into thin air, caught hislumbering opponent full under the chin.
Swinging his arms, like a scarecrow in a windstorm, the bully plungedbackward under the effective blow.
"Hurray for Ned Strong!" shouted Herc ecstatically, as the bully's bigframe reeled staggeringly backward.
The next minute, however, his delight changed to a groan of dismay asHank, unable to control himself, crashed, full tilt, into the stove.With a deafening clatter, like that of a mad bull careening round atinware shop, the heater and its long pipe, came toppling in a sootyconfusion to the ground. Red-hot coals shot out in every direction.
In the midst of the wreckage sprawled the unlucky bully, his featuresbedaubed with black. Through this mask his look of puzzled rage athis defeat came so comically that Ned and Herc could not restrainthemselves, but, even in the face of the disaster to the store stove,burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. In the meantime some onehurled a bucket of water on the coals, and the bully was drenched.
The onlookers, their risibilities also tickled by the downfall of thebully, and the noisy demolition of the stove, joined in the merrimentand the laden shelves of the store were echoing to a perfect tempest oflaughter when suddenly the rear door opened and Paul Stevens entered. Alook of dismay appeared on his lean features as his eyes lighted on thewreckage.
With him was another figure whose unexpected appearance caused theboys' faces to assume almost as dismayed a look as the countenance ofthe storekeeper.
"Grandfather!" gasped Ned, as his eyes encountered the angry glare ofthe newcomer's pale orbs.
"Yes,--grandfather," snapped the other, whose weather-beaten face wasadorned with a tuft of gray hair on the chin, in the style popularlyknown as "the goatee."
"What have you got to say in explanation of this?"
As he rasped out this query in a harsh, rusty voice like the creakingof a long disused hinge, old Zack Strong pointed to the wreckage. Fromthe midst of it was rising the bully, plentifully besmeared with soot,but doing his best to maintain a look of injured innocence.