CHAPTER IX

  LOWERING THE FLAG

  "Colors! Fall in for colors!" shouted petty officers in differentparts of the ship as the bugle blew its warning notes.

  Sam Hickey limped into place with the gun squad, and awaited the orderto march.

  "Colors," means the formalities that are observed at sunset onshipboard, consisting of impressive ceremonies when the Stars andStrips are lowered from the after flagstaff. The ceremony of colors,however, is never observed when the ship is under motion, but only whenthe vessel is at anchor.

  Just before the moment when the sun was to set, the differentdivisions, in charge of midshipmen and ensigns, were marched to thequarterdeck with measured step; then, facing toward amidships, theybanked themselves on each side of the deck. Behind the jackies, nextto the starboard and port rails, were the marines, carrying theirrifles.

  Grouped aft on the starboard side was the band, its members resplendentin white and gold uniforms.

  Between these lines of color stood the captain and his executiveofficer, facing the Flag that was lazily fluttering in the soft eveningbreeze.

  All was silence, the only sound being the water lapping the steel sidesof the battleship.

  "Attention!"

  The bugle blew a few short notes. The Flag began creeping slowly downthe after flagstaff, with every eye fixed on the ensign as it flutteredtoward the deck.

  Instantly upon the Flag's reaching the deck, the band broke forth into"The Star Spangled Banner." The hearts of the Battleship Boys swelledwith patriotism, and the strains of the national anthem seemed to bringa deeper shade to the rows of tanned, manly faces lined up in solidranks on the quarter-deck of the battleship "Long Island."

  "Attention! First division, right face! Forward march!"

  The command was repeated for the other divisions. Snare drums rolled,the band changed to a livelier tune, to which each division marched offin steady lines, one division following the other. Soon all haddisappeared, save a group of officers who remained chatting on thequarter-deck. These, too, soon turned and went below for the eveningmess.

  The day's work was done for all except those who were to go on watchduty for a two-hour trick.

  Mess finished, Sam went out to the forward deck to growl at the jackieswho had been responsible for the pig's foot on his own right foot. Thepig's foot hurt him, and the lad limped painfully.

  While Sam was forward Dan got out his ditty box, to which, by thistime, he had become as much attached as were the other sailors totheirs. From the box he drew a recent letter from his mother, whichthe Battleship Boy, sitting on the steel deck under a wall lamp in acorridor, read over several times. It seemed a long time to Dan sincehe had left her at Piedmont, and had gone on to New York to enlist inthe service of his country.

  "I think I must know this letter by heart," mused Dan, folding theletter and tenderly laying it away in the precious ditty box. Then,fixing up his fountain pen, he began writing industriously, using hiselevated knees for a desk, on which he had laid his writing pad.

  "I have written in more comfortable places than this, but I never hadmore to say than I have this time," he said.

  Mails were not very regular on shipboard, and sometimes it was a matterof weeks before a single mail was put over the side.

  Dan was still writing, an hour later, when Sam came along looking forhim.

  "Oh, here you are, eh?"

  "Yes."

  "Writing a book?"

  "No, I'm writing to mother. Is there any word you would like to sendto the folks at Piedmont?"

  "You might say hello to Mrs. Davis for me. If they'd let a fellowchange his mind in this business, you'd see me back there to-morrow.What are you writing to her?"

  Dan smiled quizzically.

  "If it were anyone else who asked me that question I might tell him itwas none of his business."

  "But you don't dare tell me that, hey?"

  "Maybe, Sam," answered Dan with a good-natured laugh.

  "All right; what you are telling her?"

  "Want to know very much?"

  "I shouldn't have asked you if I didn't."

  "Very well; I'll tell you, You know I have something more than twohundred dollars laid up with the paymaster----"

  "Yes; aren't you afraid the Jack-o'-the-Dust will run away with it?"

  "Hardly. Even if he does, the Government would make the amount good."

  "What you going to do with the money?"

  "I was about to tell you. That is what I am writing to mother about.I am sending the money to her."

  "All of it?" interrupted Sam.

  "Yes, of course. Why not?"

  "You're a good sport, you are."

  "I am telling her to go buy a lot out on the Perkins road. That amountwill just about purchase one. Then, as fast as I earn more money, Itell her, I will send it to her, and by next summer she will haveenough to go on and build a house. Mother will have a home of her ownthen, and I'll feel much better when she has."

  "How much does a house cost in that neck-o'-the-woods?"

  "Well, I should say that eight hundred dollars will put up a very fairplace. At least, it will satisfy us. Why do you ask?"

  "I was thinking. Say, did you hear about my pig's foot?"

  "Your pig's foot?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "I've got one on my right foot."

  "I haven't the least idea what you are talking about."

  "You would have, if you'd got a pig's foot. It's a lot different froma rabbit's foot, and don't you make any mistake about that."

  "Somebody gave you a pig's foot, for luck, eh? I never heard they werelucky."

  "Oh, yes; they gave it to me, all right. Here, look at this."

  Sam pulled off a shoe and stocking, exhibiting his freshly tattooedfoot.

  "Well, what do you think of that?" marveled Dan.

  "Not much," growled Sam.

  "Who did it?"

  "Old Pin Head--No, I mean old Needle Johnson."

  "Why did you let him do that, Sam?"

  "Let him? I didn't. The whole forecastle sat on me, and tied my footup to a stanchion, while the head butcher performed the operation. Ican hardly walk. But I forgot to tell you. Those black-faced fellowsfrom the other side of the world sailed into me as if they wanted toeat me up. I don't like that pair a little bit, Dan."

  "Imagination, Sam. Just because they are a little darker than we are,you do not like them. That is foolish."

  "That's just the trouble. If it was only skin deep I wouldn't give arap. The trouble with those fellows is that the black goes all the waythrough. I'll bet they are black clear to the bones. If Pills everhas to cut either of them open for anything I'm going to take a peek."

  "I am surprised at you, Sam," chided Davis.

  "You needn't be. You'll find, one of these days, that I am right. Buthow about that house and lot?"

  "If you keep on talking to me, hammocks will be piped up before Ifinish my letter."

  "Go on with your writing. I'm mum." Sam sat down and was soon lost indeep thought.

  "There," announced Dan finally. "I guess that's all I can writeto-night. I've done eight pages. That's pretty good for a sailor."

  "I never wrote as much as that in all my life--that is, I never wroteas much as that in letters. Say, Dan."

  "Yes."

  "Do you mind if I say a few words to Mother Davis at the end of yourletter!"

  "Of course, you may. Mother will be delighted."

  "All right. You go outside and take a walk for your health. I can'twrite with anybody looking at me. It makes me nervous."

  "Too bad about your sensitive nerves," retorted the other with a laugh."All right; I'll go out. Do not be long, for it is nearly hammocktime."

  Leaving Sam grumbling about having to go to bed at nine o'clock, Danstrolled out on the deck.

  "Dear Mother Davis," began Sam, "I want to tell you that
your Dan isn'tthe only jackie who has money. I've got two hundred dollars, too. ButI haven't any mother. The two hundred isn't any good to me. I've beenthinking of giving it to the government some of these times, for theycould use it where it would do some good. I've got a new idea, now.I'm going to send the two hundred to you, along with Dan's. You startthat house right away, and, by the time all the money is used up, Danand I will have some more for you. We're getting too rich. If Dankicks about it, you know how to stop him. P. S. I'm a real sailor,now. I've got a rating and a pig's foot. The rating made me glad, butthe pig's foot hurt worse than having a tooth pulled. Lovingly, Sam."