“No, sir.”
“That is nearly opposite General Grant’s tomb. You can find the place easily. Any policeman will tell you how to get there.”
“Yes, sir; when do we go, sir?”
“On the night boat. You came up here on that, did you not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I will have your papers prepared and your transportation ready at five o’clock. You will call here for them. The quartermaster will instruct you as to what you are to take with you and how to proceed. My lads, I trust I shall hear good reports from you. We always feel a keen interest in the young men who have had their first instruction here at the Training School. That will be all.”
Two hands were brought to foreheads in precise salute, and, executing a right about face, the Battleship Boys, marched steadily from the room, their faces grave, their shoulders thrown well back.
Once outside, Sam turned a bronzed, freckled face toward his companion.
“We are the people—the real people—aren’t we, Dan?” he questioned, with a sly wink.
“We are,” answered Dan soberly.