"Spider" didn't open his mouth save for the purpose of eating. Hetold me he was afraid his teeth would chatter.
_Aug. 20th._ Got a letter from Polly to-day. She says that her fingeris just itching for the ring. I told the "Spider" about it and he saidthat he had several unset stones he'd let me have for next tonothing. A good burglar is one of the most valuable friends a man canpossess.
_Sept. 3d._ I had such a set-back to-day. Never was I more confounded.This morning I received a notice to report before the examining boardfor a first class rating. Of course I had been expecting some slightrecognition of my real worth for a long time, but when the blow fell Iwas hardly prepared for it. Hurrying to "My Blue Jacket's Manual," Isucceeded by the aid of a picture in getting firmly in my mind theport and starboard side of a ship and then I presented myself beforethe examiners--three doughty and unsmiling officers. There were abouttwelve of us up for examination. Seating ourselves before the threegentlemen, we gazed upon them with ill-concealed trepidation. One ofthem called the roll in a languid manner, and then without furtherpreliminaries the battle began, and I received the first shock of theassault. I don't quite remember the question that man asked me, it wasall too ghastly at the time, but I think it was something like this:
"What would you do if you were at the wheel in a dense fog and youheard three whistles on your port beam, four whistles off thestarboard bow, and a prolonged toot dead ahead?"
"I would still remain in a dense fog," I gasped in a low voice.
"Speak up!" snapped the officer.
"Full speed ahead and jumps," whispered a guy next to me. It soundedreasonable. I seized upon it eagerly.
"I'd put full steam ahead and jump, sir," I replied.
"Are you mad?" shouted the amazed officer.
"No, sir," I hastened to assure him, "only profoundly perplexed. Ithink, sir, that I would go into a conference, under thecircumstances."
The officer seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown.
"What's your name?" asked another officer suddenly.
I told him.
"Initials?"
I told him. He looked at the paper for a moment.
"That explains it," he said with a sigh of relief, "you're not theman. There has been some mistake. Orderly, take this man away andbring back the right one. Pronto!"
That Spanish stuff sounds awfully sea-going. I was taken away, but theofficer had not yet recovered. He regarded me with an expression ofprofound disgust. Anyway I created a sensation.
"'I WOULD STILL REMAIN IN A DENSE FOG,' I GASPED IN ALOW VOICE"]
_Sept. 4th._ Things have been happening with overwhelming rapidity. Onthe strength of being properly engaged to Polly, my permanent sweetie,I went to my Regimental commander this morning and applied for afurlough. He regarded me pityingly for a moment and then carefullyscanned a list of names on the desk before him.
"I am sorry," he said finally, "but not only am I not able to grantyour request, but I have the unpleasant duty to inform you that youare a little less than forty-eight hours from the vicinity of Ambroselight."
"Shipped!" I gasped as the world swam around me.
"Your name is on this list," said the officer not unkindly.
"Shipped!" I repeated in a dazed voice.
"It does seem ridiculous, I'll admit," said the officer, smiling, "butyou never can tell what strange things are going to happen in theNavy. If I were in your place I'd take advantage of this head start Ihave given you and get my clothes and sea-bag in some sort ofcondition. If I remember rightly, you have never been ablesuccessfully to achieve this since you've been in the service."
"Thank you, sir," I gasped, and bolted. In my excitement I ranviolently into a flock of ensigns stalking across the parade ground.
"I'm going to be shipped," I cried by way of explanation to one ofthem as he arose wrathfully.
"You're going to be damned," said he, and I was. Too frantic to writemore.
_Sept. 5th._ All preparations have been made. Tim, Tony and the Spiderare going too. I have just been listening to the most disturbingconversation. It all arose from our speculating as to our probabledestination and the nature of our services. The Master-at-arms, whohad been sleeping on the hammock rack as only a Master-at-arms can,permitted himself to remain awake long enough to join in.
"I wouldn't be at all surprised," said he, "if you were shipped toone of these new Submarine Provokers."
"What's that?" I asked uneasily.
"Why, it's a sort of a dee-coy," said he, stretching his huge hulk, "alittle, unarmed boat that goes messing around in the ocean until itfinds a submarine and then it provokes it."
"How's that?" asked Tim.
"Why, you see," continued the jimmy-legs, "it just sort of steams backand forth in front of the submarine, just steams slowly back and forthin front of the submarine until it provokes it."
"Ah!" said I, taking a deep breath.
"Yes," he continues cheerfully, "and the more you provoked thesubmarine why the harder it shoots at you, so of course it doesn'tnotice the real Submarine Sinker coming up behind it. See thetactics."
"Oh," says I, "we just provoke the submarine until it loses its temperand the other boat sinks it."
"That's it," says the jimmy-legs, "you just sort of steam back andforth in front of it slowly."
"How slowly?" asks the Spider.
"Very," replied the jimmy-legs.
"No guns at all?" asks Tim.
"None," says he.
"A regular little home," suggests Tony.
"Sure," says the jimmy-legs, "nothing to do at all but steam slowlyback--"
"For God's sake don't dwell on that point any more!" I cried. "Weunderstand it perfectly."
"A regular lil' home," muttered Tim as he began to stow his bag.
(Later) I write these lines with horror. Some one has told me that theNavy needs Powder tasters, something I'd never heard of before, andthat perhaps--that's what we are going to be used for. All you have todo, this guy says, is to taste the powder to see if it's damp or dryand if it's damp you take it away and bake it. This sounds worse thanthe Submarine Provoker.
(Still later) Rumor is rife. The latest report is that we are going tobe Mine Openers.
"What's a Mine Opener?" I asked my informant.
"Why, it's a guy," says he, "that picks up the mines floating aroundhis boat, but only the German mines of course, and opens them to seeif they are as dangerous as they look. Some are not half as dangerousas they look," he continues easily, "some are not quite so dangerousand of course some are a great deal more so. But they are alldangerous enough."
"My dear chap," I replied, turning away miserably, "a pinwheel isquite dangerous enough for me."
_Sept. 6th._ This is being written from the gate. My bag and hammockare beside me. Tim lashed them together for me so they wouldn't comeundone. We are waiting for the truck. Tony in his excitable way wantsto kiss the guard good-by. The guard doesn't want him to. My lastmoments at Pelham have been hectic. The doctor said I looked onehundred per cent better than when I came in, but that wasn't enough.If you didn't look at me very closely you wouldn't know that I wassuch an awful dub. This is progress at any rate. The telephone wiresbetween mother's house and the camp were dripping wet with tears whenI phoned her that I was being shipped. However, she braced up and saidshe was proud of me and said she hoped I'd tell the captain good-byand thank him for all he has done. I assured her I would do this, orat least leave a note. Polly was a trump. The Spider talked to her andsaid that he was going to save the best uncut stone for her that hehad ever bitten out of a ring. The Spider has been very valuable to usall. He seems to have the uncanny faculty of being able to take thecloth straps off other people's clothes right before their eyes.Consequently we are well supplied. At present he's looking at thehandle of the gate in a musing way. I think he would like to have itas a souvenir. Here comes the truck. Pelham is about to lose its mostuseless recruit. I must tuck these priceless pages in my money belt.Wish I had a picture of
Polly. Well, here's to the High Adventure, butthere's something about that Submarine Provoker I can't quite get usedto. It seems just a trifle one sided. However, that is in the lap ofthe gods. Instead of a camp I will soon have the vast expanses of theocean in which to demonstrate my tremendous inability to emulate theexample of one John Paul Jones.
"Bear a hand there, buddy," the P.O. has just cried at me.
"Buddy" I came in and "buddy" I go out. We're off! I