Battleship Boys' First Step Upward; Or, Winning Their Grades as Petty Officers

  Produced by Al Haines

  Cover art]

  [Frontispiece: Dan Headed the "Oriole" for the Harbor.]

  The Battleship Boys'

  First Step Upward

  OR

  Winning Their Grades as

  Petty Officers

  By

  FRANK GEE PATCHIN

  Illustrated

  THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY

  Akron, Ohio ---- New York

  Made in U. S. A.

  Copyright MCMXI

  By THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY

  PRINTED IN THE

  UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  CONTENTS

  I. Sighting the Shooting Star II. Whaleboats to the Rescue III. Bombarded by Big Guns IV. Looking Death in the Face V. The Loss of the Tompion VI. The Red, White and Blue VII. Putting the Enemy Out VIII. Sam Gets a Pig's Foot IX. Lowering the Flag X. His Narrow Escape XI. On the Anchor Watch XII. Obeying His Orders XIII. The Battle of the Dinghies XIV. Ordered to the Sick Bay XV. Before the Summary Court XVI. A Surprise, Indeed XVII. At Torpedo Target Practice XVIII. Hard and Fast Aground XIX. A Trying Moment XX. Dan Before the Board XXI. In the Racing Gig XXII. An Exciting Moment XXIII. The Act of a Hero XXIV. Conclusion

  Illustrations

  Dan Headed the "Oriole" for the Harbor . . . . . . _Frontispiece_

  The Battleship Boys Swung Into the Chorus.

  Dan Parried the Blow With the Captured Boat Hook.

  The Battleship Boys' First Step Upward

  CHAPTER I

  SIGHTING THE SHOOTING STAR

  "Green light off the starboard bow, sir."

  The voice came from the black void far above the navigating bridge ofthe battleship "Long Island."

  "Where away?" demanded the watch officer on the bridge.

  "Two points off starboard bow, sir."

  "What do you make her out?"

  "Don't make her out, sir," answered the red-haired Sam Hickey, who wasdoing lookout duty on the platform beside the number one searchlight.

  "Do you still see her!"

  "No, sir."

  The watch officer gazed through his night glass in the directionindicated, but was unable to pick up a light of any sort. The "LongIsland" was plunging through a great gale, which she was taking headon. White-tipped seas, backed by solid walls of water were sweepingthe bridge more than forty feet above the level of the sea. Even thered-haired boy clinging to the rail far above the bridge was now andagain nearly swept from his feet by the rush of water that envelopedhim.

  A sixty-mile gale was sweeping the Atlantic seaboard, with the windshrieking weirdly through the huge cage masts, whose tops were lost inthe darkness above the ship itself. Every man on deck was clinging tostanchion and rail in momentary danger of being swept overboard.

  "You must have been mistaken," shouted the watch officer.

  "No, sir. It was a light all right, sir," shouted Sam Hickey in aconfident tone.

  "What did it look like?"

  "It looked like a shooting star, sir."

  "What was it?"

  "It was a shooting star, sir."

  A half articulated exclamation of disgust from the officer on thebridge reached the ears of the lookout.

  "It shot right up from the sea, sir."

  "What's that?"

  The question was hurled up at Sam with almost explosive force.

  "The star shot right up from the sea, sir."

  Now, the watch officer on the bridge of the battleship knew full wellthat shooting stars shoot downward, not upward. He knew also that witha sky overcast as was this one, with the clouds hanging low, noshooting star could be made out, even granting that one had fallen.

  "Boatswain's mate!" roared the officer.

  "Aye, aye, sir," answered a hoarse voice somewhere from the depthsbelow.

  "Turn out the top watches. Man the tops on the jump!"

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  Loud words of command floated up from below and a moment later a groupof sailors dashed up to the bridge, rubbing their eyes sleepily.Without awaiting a word of instruction, they began running up the ironladders of the cage masts and were quickly lost to view.

  The watch officer raised his megaphone, pointing it up into the air.

  "Look sharp two points to starboard. See if you can pick up a light.Keep your eyes open. Boatswain's mate!"

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  "Station men all the way up the mast to pass the word down in case anylights are made out. I'll never hear the word shouted from up there inthis howling gale."

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  "Green light four points off the starboard bow," howled Sam Hickey.

  "Green-light-off-the-starboard-bow," sang a chorus of voices fromsomewhere far up in the steel mast.

  "Man in the top says it's a rocket, sir," was passed down from mouth tomouth.

  "Aye, aye, I saw it," answered the watch officer. "Pass the word up tohold the watch. Messenger!"

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  "Run for the captain's quarters. Tell his orderly we have sightedgreen rockets off the starboard bow. We have made out no other lights,but there is a ship in trouble off there."

  The messenger saluted and was away in a twinkling, racing along theslippery superstructure, guided only by his knowledge of the ship, forhe could not see a half dozen feet ahead of him.

  The word was passed to the commanding officer by the latter's orderly,and in an incredibly short time the captain emerged from his cabin,fully clothed, his uniform covered by shining black rainclothes.

  He quickly made his way to the navigator's bridge, arriving there onlya few minutes behind the messenger.

  "What's this, Mr. Brant?" he demanded sharply in the ear of the watchofficer.

  "Signal rockets, sir."

  "You are sure of this!"

  "Yes, sir. Half a dozen men aloft have sighted them. I saw one flashmyself."

  "Where away?"

  "Four points off the starboard bow the last time we sighted the light,sir."

  "How are you heading?"

  "East southeast, three quarters, sir."

  "Hold the helm steady until we see if we can make out another signal.Up aloft, there!"

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  "Look sharp for lights. Report them quickly and make sure the word ispassed down. Pass the word back after it reaches me, so that you maybe sure I have it."

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  An interval followed, during which only the roar and shriek of the galewere heard. Then all at once the red-haired boy's voice sounded abovethe storm.

  "Shooting star again, three points----"

  "What's that?" roared the commanding officer.

  "I mean--I mean I sighted the green rocket again, sir," explained SamHickey lamely.

  "Don't you know----"

  "I caught the flash of it, sir," spoke the watch officer. "It was asSeaman Hickey said, three points off the starboard bow this time."

  "Starboard, two points!" commanded the captain.

  "Starboard two points," repeated the quartermaster on duty at thewheel, giving the steering wheel a sharp turn. "She's on the mark,sir."

  "Hold it."

  "You think it is a wreck, sir?" questioned the watch officer.

  "I know no more about it than do you. Naturally it is some vessel indistress, else they would not be making distress signals. You say youcaught only the flash--you did not get a sight of the roc
ket itself?"

  "No, sir. I saw the flash, that was all."

  The captain glanced up into the darkness.

  "She should be ten miles away, then. We ought to be heading about deadon, if your sight was correct. Full speed ahead, both engines."

  The throb of the engines far below them rose to a steady purr. The"Long Island" plunged ahead, lurching more violently than before. Itwas an unsafe speed in such a sea, but perhaps there were human livesat stake off there in that wild swirl of water, and if so it was thefirst duty of an American seaman to go to their rescue, however greatthe peril to himself and crew might be.

  "There she goes again," shouted the lookout up by the searchlight.

  "I caught it that time. The vessel lies dead ahead. Hold your course,quartermaster."

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  "Ord'ly, turn out the executive officer. Tell him to order the boatcrews and the first and second divisions out. Be quick about it."

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  Boatswains' whistles trilled faintly from the depths of the battleship;boatswains' mates roared out their commands, piping the men from theirsleep, and a few minutes later the superstructure was thronged withhalf-clad figures. Every man of them was soaked to the skin theinstant he reached the deck, but unmindful of this every eye waspeering into the black mist ahead, the men anxiously questioning eachother as to the cause of their being piped out.

  No one seemed to know, but older heads shrewdly suspected thatsomewhere off ahead was a sister ship in dire distress.

  "Boatswain's mate!" again came the warning call of the watch officer.

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  "Pipe all hands to stations."

  Once again whistles trilled. The entire crew of the battleship wasbeing called to stations, for again the commanding officer had seen thewarning signals shooting up into the sky. Powerful glasses were beingleveled at the black abyss ahead, but as yet the officers, of whomthere was now quite a group assembled on the bridge, were unable tomake out anything on the sea, save the mountains of water that wereleaping toward them.

  "We must be nearing the place, Mr. Coates," shouted the captain in theear of his executive officer. "Keep a sharp lookout now. We don'twant to have a collision with an old water-logged hulk in this gale.We should run an excellent chance of going to the bottom ourselves."

  "Yes, sir," agreed Mr. Coates, as, raising his megaphone, he warned alllookouts to be on their guard.

  Sam Hickey, proud in the consciousness that he had been the first tosight the signals of distress, was scanning the troubled seas with keeneyes, from which now and then he brushed the salt brine with animpatient hand.

  "If I could see, I'd see," he complained to himself. "I wonder if theyhave turned out Dan. He knows where I am anyway. There she blows!"suddenly shouted the red-haired boy.

  "He's sighted a whale," laughed a young midshipman.

  "What do you mean?" roared the captain.

  "Light dead ahead, sir. Rocket again, sir."

  "Aye, aye," was the answer from the bridge.

  The officers there had plainly seen the signal rocket this time, andthe green ball seemed to shoot up into the clouds from directly beneaththe bow of the "Long Island." The battleship was at that moment ridinga mountainous swell, while the vessel from which the signal had beenfired was wallowing in the trough of the sea far below. It seemed asif the battleship must slide down the steep wall of water and crush thevessel laboring in the hollow so far beneath them.

  "Port your helm!" commanded the captain. "Slow speed astern, starboardengine. Hold her there!"

  "There she is, sir," shouted the executive officer, leveling his nightglass on the sea valley.

  "What do you make of her?"

  "Not much of anything. I see faint lights aboard, but that is all."

  "Number one searchlight there," called the captain.

  "Aye, aye, sir," answered the sailor in charge of the light.

  "Throw a light off the port quarter and see if you can pick up thatship."

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  An instant later a broad shaft of light pierced the blackness of thenight. The beam of light traveled slowly about, finally coming to reston an object in the sea some distance ahead. On this object theofficers focused their night glasses.

  "Four-masted schooner, sir," called Sam Hickey from his elevatedposition beside the searchlight.

  "All sticks standing?"

  "No, sir."

  "No, she has only two poles standing now, sir," spoke up the executiveofficer. "She seems to be in a bad way."

  "Steady her," commanded the captain.

  "She's steady," answered the quartermaster at the wheel of thebattleship.

  "Slow both engines ahead."

  The "Long Island" was rolling more heavily than before, now and thengiving a violent lurch, forcing every person on deck to cling towhatever support was nearest to him. Otherwise men might have beenhurled overboard and lost in the tumbling sea.

  By this time the schooner was fairly well outlined by the battleship'ssearchlight, but the lookouts were unable to make out any signs of lifeon board the distressed ship. They felt sure, however, that theschooner was on its last legs, and that it was a question of moments,perhaps, before she would take her final plunge.

  "All depends upon what she is loaded with, as to how long she lasts,"decided the captain of the battleship.

  "She is flush with the water," answered the executive officer. "Ishould say she must be loaded with lumber. She would have been downlong ago, otherwise."

  "I think you are right, Mr. Coates. Hail them with the megaphone assoon as you think you can make them hear. We are to the windward andyour voice should carry."

  "Schooner ahoy!" shouted the executive officer.

  There was no answering word from the disabled schooner. The distanceat which the battleship was compelled to keep for its own safety, tosay nothing of the roar of the gale, made communication by word ofmouth impossible. At this moment another rocket from the schoonerseemed to emphasize the necessity for immediate help.

  Turning toward the men assembled on the gun deck, the captain addressedthem:

  "Battleship crew there! A ship is sinking hard by.

  "Volunteers are wanted to man the whaleboats. It is a dangerousmission. All who are willing to volunteer, step forward."

  Every man within hearing distance stepped forward, and a crew wasquickly chosen. Sam Hickey and Dan Davis were among the twenty-fourmen who scrambled into the two boats.

  Other sailors took their places by the ropes that controlled theraising and lowering of the life boats. The executive officer, nowstanding on the superstructure, watching the sea and his own ship, wasawaiting the moment when, in his judgment, it would be most safe tolaunch the whaleboats. Not a man in the two boats spoke even in awhisper. They had cast aside their storm clothes, being clad only introusers and jumpers.

  "Get ready."

  "Toss oars," commanded the coxswain of each boat.

  Every man raised his oar upright.

  "Let go the falls," commanded the executive officer.

  The two whaleboats struck the sea with a mighty splash.

  "Cast off! Go!" shouted the two coxswains, at which the men fell totheir oars with a will. But those in the number two whaleboat eitherhad not been quick enough, or else a wave had caught them unawares.Their frail craft was picked up on the crest of a wave and hurled withmighty force against the side of the ship, the smaller boat instantlygoing to pieces. In a second, thirteen men were struggling in theboiling sea, fighting desperately for their lives.