A NAVAL INITIATION.

Both the Dreadnought Boys were good swimmers. Even if they had not been drilled in this art at the training school, their experiences in the old swimming pool at home would have made them at home in the water. Ned had dived after his chum as a matter of impulse, more than anything else, and, a second after the two splashes had resounded, both boys appeared on the surface of the water.

A few strokes brought them to the side of the ship, where they clung to the slight projection afforded by an out-board seacock, till a ladder came snaking down to them.

By this time the rail, which seemed to be as high above them as the summit of a skyscraper, was lined with faces, and at the stern the officers who were on board were peering over the side of the quarterdeck.

Captain Dunham himself, summoned by his orderly, came running from his cabin, as the two dripping youths arose from their immersion, and joined his officers on the stern. He had just come on board in his own launch.

"Who are they, Scott?" he asked of his executive officer, as the boys once more ascended the side of the ship on the emergency ladder.

"Two recruits, sir, from the training station, I believe, sir," was the reply, with a salute.

"Well, they are certainly taking a naval baptism," laughed the captain, whose merriment was echoed by his officers, now that it was seen the boys were safe, "but how did it happen?"

"I don't know, sir. I was not forward at the time," was the rejoinder. "The shore men were coming on board, I believe, and the red-headed young fellow fell from the boom. His companion dived instantly after him. It was a plucky act, sir."

"Humph!" remarked the captain. "I suppose it was an accident, and we can take no official notice of it. By the way, Scott, those two young men, I perceive now, are the ones I spoke to you about as having behaved with such singular courage and cool-headedness when the Rhode Island burned. Keep an eye on them, for I think they have the makings of real sailors in them."

"I shall, sir," replied the executive officer, saluting, as the captain turned away with a return of the courtesy.

If Ned and Herc were wet and cold without, they were warm enough within as they gained the deck. Ned's eye had detected Kennell's foot in the act of reaching out to trip his chum and cousin, and he felt within him an overpowering desire to seek the man out and demand an explanation.

Fortunately, however, for himself, other matters occupied his attention at that moment.

Dripping wet as they were, the boys did not forget their carefully instilled training, and each came to attention and saluted as they faced the officer of the deck.

"Who are you men?" demanded that dignitary, red tape not allowing him to comment on the accident.

"Recruits, s-s-sir, from Newport T-T-T-Training School," answered Ned respectfully, his teeth chattering.

"Get on dry clothes and report to the master-at-arms. Messenger!"

A messenger slid to the officer's side with a hand raised in salute.

"Show these recruits to their quarters. Let them get on dry clothes and then conduct them to the master-at-arms."

As the boys' suitcases had by this time been hoisted on board, they soon changed into dry uniforms in the men's quarters forward, and their conductor then beckoned them to follow him. The two boys, their eyes round with astonishment at the sights and scenes about them, followed without a word, and were led through labyrinths of steel-walled passages, down steel ladders with glistening steel hand rails, up more ladders, and through bulkhead doors made to open and close with ponderous machinery. The lower decks of the ship were lighted with hundreds of incandescent bulbs, as, in a modern man-of-war, there are no portholes on the sides, owing to the thickness of the armorplate. The officers' cabins are lighted by lozenges of glass let into the deck.

"It's like living in a fire-proof safe," whispered Herc.

The boys noticed that, although they seemed to be in a steel-walled maze, that the air was fresh and cool, and they discovered afterward that large quantities of fresh ozone were distributed into every part of the ship by electric blowers. For the present, however, they followed their guide in a sort of semi-stupefaction at the novelty of their surroundings.

"Say, we must have walked a mile," gasped Herc, as their guide finally emerged into a narrow passage seemingly in the stern of the vessel. He paused before a door hung with heavy curtains and knocked.

"What is it?" demanded a voice from inside. "A voice as pleasant as an explosion of dynamite," Herc described it afterward.

"Two recruits, sir," was the reply.

"Send them in."

The boys found themselves in the presence of the master-at-arms, a dignified and business-like officer.

"Your papers?" he demanded, without further parley.

"Here, sir," answered both boys, producing their precious certificates from the training school.

The master-at-arms glanced over them.

"You seem to have good records," he remarked, "but don't presume on them. You have a lot to learn. Messenger!"

The messenger sprang to attention and saluted, and the boys, not to be outdone in politeness, did likewise.

"Sir!"

"Take these two recruits to the ship's writer, and have him enter them in the ship's records."

Once more the threading of the metal labyrinth began, and the boys felt almost ready to drop as they were ushered into another cabin, where sat a man not unlike the master-at-arms in appearance, but who wore spectacles perched on his nose.

He took the boys' papers without a word and filed them away in a pigeonhole. He then produced two varnished ditty boxes, with their keys, which he handed to the boys.

"These are your ditty boxes," he remarked, handing over the caskets, which were about a foot and a half square, neatly varnished and finished, and each of which bore a number.

"You are to keep your valuables, stationery and knicknacks of any kind in these," he said. "Be careful of them and look after them well."

"What about our money, sir?" asked Ned.

"You can place that in the ship's savings bank if you wish. It gives four per cent. Or, if you prefer, you can deposit it with the ship's paymaster, and draw on it as you require. If you are transferred to another ship, it will be transferred for you."

"I think the savings bank would be best," said Ned, looking at Herc.

"Same here," replied the farmboy; "gran'pa used to say, 'put your money in hogs,' but I guess we couldn't do that aboard ship, so it's the savings banks for me, too."

"Very well; you may leave your money with me and I will give you a passbook. You see, we do these things much as they are done ashore."

"I see," nodded Ned as he took his passbook, and Herc did the same, "what do we do now, sir?"

"You will now be conducted to the boatswain's mate, who is a sort of foster-parent to young recruits, and from him you will get the numbers of your hammocks and be assigned to a place at mess. He will also outline your duties to you.

"Messenger!"

"Sir!"

Once more the messenger came to salute, and stiffened in the attitude of attention, and the boys did the same.

"Conduct these recruits to the chief boatswain's mate."

"Yes, sir."

"Off again," whispered Herc, as the messenger once more darted off with the boys in tow.