CHAPTER XII
NAVY OFFICERS FOR AN HOUR OR A DAY
"So you're really the three famous submarine boys?" inquired Secretary
Sanders, rising from his chair and extending his hand.
"We're submarine boys; that's all I ever heard about it, Mr. Secretary," replied Captain Jack, as he introduced his friends.
"Now, be seated, young gentlemen, and tell me all you know about this matter that has brought you over to Washington."
Jack Benson acted as spokesman, telling the whole tale clearly, yet using up no more time in talk than was absolutely necessary. It was a good, concise, business statement.
"Now, of course," pursued Mr. Sanders, "you wonder what the Navy Department wants you to do. Well, in the first place, we've been asking, by wireless, through the night and early morning, to have all craft on the lookout for a schooner answering to the description of the 'Juanita'."
Secretary Sanders paused, but none of the three boys asked any questions.
"You will wonder, of course, what success we've had so far, and I may say that our success has been ample," resumed the Secretary of the Navy, with an amused smile. "In other words, we've been able to pick up news of three schooners, all of which answer to the general description of the 'Juanita'—but it happens that that isn't the name of any one of the three."
Jack Benson nodded, but did not speak.
"Of course," pursued the Secretary, "it may be that the skipper of the 'Juanita' has tried an old trick, through the night. He may have set a man to painting another name at the schooner's stern."
Again Skipper Jack nodded.
"The schooner that we think most likely to be the 'Juanita' is about fifty miles out at sea, now, according to a report received twenty minutes ago. Evidently she is headed for one of the British West Indies. Now, if the wind continues the same, and the suspected vessel keeps to her present course, she will, at five this afternoon, be off the Norfolk Navy Yard, and some sixty-two miles out at sea. Now, unless we are otherwise advised, we want a gunboat, the 'Sudbury,' now at Norfolk, to overhaul the suspected schooner and ascertain whether she is really the 'Juanita,' and whether the man, Gray, and his bundle of documents are still on board. The suspected vessel is to be searched, and Gray and the documents, if found, are to be seized, and the schooner then released. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly, sir." Jack answered quietly.
"One of you young men will know Gray at a glance. The other two are familiar with the whole case. Otherwise, it would not have been necessary to have called you into this matter. Yet, to overhaul a vessel, or to make an arrest or a seizure, you require authority. Such authority can be vested only in naval officers. Hence, for the present, it will be necessary to give all three of you appointments as officers in the United States Navy."
At this announcement Jack Benson lost, for the moment, some of his cool composure.
"Officers of the Navy, sir!" he gasped, but his eyes glowed at the mere thought.
"You will be officers only temporarily," returned the Secretary. "You are not of age, any of you, I take it."
"We are all just about the same age, sir—seventeen, nearly eighteen,"
Jack replied.
"Just so. Now, none of you could legally bold officers' commissions, except by a special act of Congress. However, with the approval of the President, it is legal for me to give you special, temporary appointments under which you have the title, rank, pay and command of officers. These appointments I am going to give and, for a brief while, though you will not have commissions, you will nevertheless be as actually officers of the Navy as are any admirals on the list."
This astonishing statement almost took away the breath of the submarine boys.
"You are familiar with navigation, Benson, and are a capable enough sea-pilot along this coast. I learned that much, early this morning, through Mr. Farnum's answer to my telegram."
"Then Mr. Farnum knows what we are going to do?" asked Jack, quickly.
"He doesn't," replied Secretary Sanders, with a shake of his head. "Mr. Farnum knows, only, that you have a chance to be of some service to the Navy. He seemed to be much pleased by our inquiry."
The Secretary had just touched an electric button on his desk. Now a clerk entered the room.
"Telephone the secretary of the President," directed Mr. Sanders, "and ask him whether the President has examined and approved the special appointments that I sent over a while ago."
The clerk was quickly back, to say:
"The special appointments, Mr. Secretary, are duly approved, and are now on their way over from the White House."
Two minutes later, a messenger entered, handing a sealed envelope to the Secretary of the Navy.
Breaking the seal, Mr. Sanders drew forth three heavy, folded sheets of parchment.
"Here you are, Mr. Benson," resumed the Secretary, handing over one of the parchments. "This document confers upon you, for the time being, the rank, pay and command of a lieutenant, junior grade, in the United States Navy. You, Mr. Hastings, and you, Mr. Somers, will rank as ensigns under your special appointments."
Jack's head swam a bit as he thanked Mr. Sanders; then he started to glance over this marvelous document.
But the Secretary of the Navy now cut in, briskly:
"That is all, gentlemen. You know your instructions, in general, Lieutenant Benson. You will now go to my chief clerk, who will swear you into the service. He will also give you an order on a local tailor for the uniforms of your ranks. In one hour and twenty minutes your train starts south. On arrival at Norfolk you will report without an instant's delay at the Navy Yard. Aboard the 'Sudbury' you will receive all further instructions, wired from this Department. Good morning, gentlemen."
Then, indeed, things moved fast. At the desk of the chief clerk of the Navy Department the three budding naval officers stood with their right hands raised while the official at the other side of the desk administered to them the oath binding them to loyalty to the government and to obedience to all lawful orders of their superiors.
"And now, gentlemen," continued the chief clerk, "I will send for Ensign McGrath, who is on duty here, and present you to him. He will go with you to the tailor's, and will see that you are properly rushed to the train that you are to take. Remember, you are not to pay for your uniforms or equipment. The bill will be sent here."
Ensign McGrath looked sleepy, but proved to be a hustler. One of the Department's autos was out in the grounds, and into this McGrath bundled the three submarine boys. Five minutes later they were in the tailoring establishment, where a good many ready-made uniforms were kept for sale.
What a whirl it was. Yet, in twenty minutes, each submarine boy found himself in the duty uniform of a United States junior naval officer, each uniform adorned with the insignia of the wearer's rank. In the meantime, dress-suit cases had been procured from a store near by.
"All right and proper," nodded Ensign McGrath. "And—I'm not throwing bouquets, gentlemen, but you really look as though you had been born for the uniforms. Now, only one thing is missing—the swords."
"Are we to wear swords?" asked Jack, his face flushing with pleasure.
"Under certain conditions, on duty, naval officers wear swords. You will need them as parts of your equipments."
The dealer brought these side-arms at once. The naval sword is a handsome one, vastly more natty than the infantry side-arm of a junior officer.
What a thrill each submarine boy felt as he was shown how to adjust his sword to the belt!
"They're really nonsensical jewelry in these civilized days," declared Ensign McGrath, dryly. "But the regulations call for swords at some times. Now, gentlemen, you will need to get your uniforms off as quickly as you can, and the tailor's helpers will pack them in your suit cases. You travel in citizen's clothes, and don your uniforms as soon as you get aboard the gunboat."
Ten minutes later each proud submarine boy picked up his suit case and sword, the latter, in each instance, being inside of a chamois-skin carrying case.
In single file they made their way to the street.
"Now, for the last leg of the race in Washington," announced Ensign
McGrath, as they entered the automobile once more.
"I wonder if it will happen on the way, or at the station?" laughed Jack, as the government gas-wagon whirled them down Pennsylvania Avenue.
"Will what happen?" inquired McGrath.
"Why," laughed Benson again, "I know we've got to wake up out of this trance, but I can't figure when it's going to happen."
"I suppose all of you do feel excited," nodded Ensign McGrath, understandingly.
"Not excited," declared Jack. "I'm just simply unprepared to believe that any part of this has really happened."
At the railway station they were met by a messenger from the chief clerk's office, who handed each of the submarine boys a small parcel.
"Copy of the Regulations, sir" stated the messenger. "It is required that each officer of the Navy possess a copy."
"You'll want to scan the book good and hard most of the way down to Norfolk," advised Ensign McGrath. "You'll find much between the covers that you'll need to know right at the first jump-off. And now, for the tickets."
These McGrath bought, including parlor car seats. The ensign then saw them safely to their seats.
"Now, you've got enough to do, reading your new books," laughed the ensign, "So I'm not going to waste your time by staying here to talk to you. It's ten minutes, yet, to the time of your departure. Good-bye, gentlemen—and good luck!"
When McGrath had gone Jack leaned across the aisle to whisper:
"Eph, can you get at your sword handily—to draw it, I mean?"
"What's up?" said Eph, suspiciously.
"I want you to stick about a sixteenth of an inch of the point of your sword into me, so I can judge how long I've been dreaming."
"What's the matter with using your own sword?" demanded Eph, a trifle gruffly.
"That's just the trouble," smiled Benson, plaintively. "I'm afraid I'll wake up and find I haven't any."
Hal was leaning back in his parlor car chair, his eyes closed. He was dreaming delicious daydreams.