“Do you see them?”
“Yes.”
“Who knows but we may be on one of those ships in three months from now. I wish we were going there to-day.”
The lads were standing on a rise of ground just in front of the executive building of the Newport, R. I., training station. A long, green lawn sloped down to the water’s edge where a fleet of cutters belonging to the station, swayed idly at their moorings. On beyond, lay the old “Constitution,” fully rigged, a handsome craft despite the fact that more than a hundred years had elapsed since she left the hands of her builders. The boys did not know her name, but they did know that she belonged to another age. To the right, lay the “Cumberland,” a full rigged sailing ship; the “Boxer,” a barkentine, and some distance from the latter they saw moored to a wharf the “Reina Mercedes,” captured during the war with Spain.
Dan’s eyes lighted up and his face glowed with pleasure.
“Beautiful!” he breathed.
“It might be if I had some breakfast inside of me,” answered Sam Hickey. “We haven’t had a thing to eat since we had that plate of ham and eggs in New York yesterday. I’m hungry enough to eat anything.”
The hour was still early, and few of the apprentices of the training school were to be seen on the grounds of the station.
“Then come along. We will see whether we can find some one to direct us.”
The lads started on again. As they came abreast of the flagstaff from which floated the Stars and Stripes, Dan halted. Coming to attention he saluted the Flag respectfully.