Following the meal they went up on deck. The vessel was cutting through the waves at a rattling rate of speed, dashing the water from her bows in great sprays of foam. She was a staunch boat with long speedy lines, her decks as white as snow and every bit of brasswork shining until one could see his face reflected in it. Even if they had not been told, the boys would have known instinctively that such a smart spotless craft could belong only to the navy.
The air was bracing, and the Radio Boys drank it in big draughts. The fog had vanished. The light of the sun was reflected from the tips of waves in a thousand points that glittered like diamonds. There was no land to be seen anywhere. As far as any evidence to the contrary appeared, they might be in the very center of the ocean.
They were enjoying the unusual sight to the full when the young ensign came along. He smiled pleasantly, as he saw them at the rail.
“The captain’s ready to see you now,” he said. “Come this way.”
They followed him with a slight feeling of trepidation.
“Some old ogre, I suppose,” whispered Jimmy to Bob. “A martinet ready to snap your head off.”
“Not so bad as that, I guess,” replied Bob. “Probably a very decent fellow. Brace up, old boy.”
The ensign knocked at the door of a commodious cabin. A voice bade them come in. They entered.
A man in captain’s uniform sat at a table poring over a chart. He looked up.
Something like an electric shock went through the Radio Boys.