“He called us ‘men.’ Did you hear it? I guess we are, all right,” whispered Sam.
The quartermaster conducted them into an adjoining room, where they were turned over to the examining surgeon, who, after scanning their applications, began asking them pointed questions about their parents and their life. In fact, he asked more questions than either lad knew how to answer, for the inquiry went back more years than they had lived.
The examination lasted fully an hour, after which the lads were directed to return to the room where they had filled out their applications.
“He knows more about me than I ever thought there was to know,” confided Sam to his companion.
Just then the surgeon came hurrying in. He laid their applications on the desk before the commander, engaging in earnest conversation with that officer.
“I think they are going to turn us out,” whispered Dan.
“I hope they do,” grumbled Sam, brushing a hand across his freckled cheek. “I don’t see why they have to go through all this rigmarole. Reminds me of the time they tried a fellow up in our place for stealing a yearling heifer.”
“It is well worth the rigmarole if we can get in,” answered Dan, ignoring the comparison. “I do not care how much they put us through. And, besides, it proves that everybody cannot get into Uncle Sam’s Navy. A fellow has got to be a real man if he wants to be a jackie these days,” added Dan somewhat proudly. “I wonder what they are talking about?”
“We’ll know in a minute. There comes that quartermaster fellow,” answered Sam.
The lads rose as he stepped up to them.