“Looking for the recruiting office?” he asked, with a smile.
“Why—er—yes,” admitted Frank, a bit bashfully.
“One flight up—turn to your right,” he directed them.
Ned and Frank went into a barely-furnished room, where two or three men were sitting about. One had a sergeant’s chevrons on his sleeve, and to him Frank spoke.
“We’d like to enlist,” began the lad.
“That’s fine,” was the hearty response. “We’re looking for good lads, and you two seem to size up pretty well,” he added, drawing a pad of paper toward him. “Not running away from home, or anything like that, are you?” he asked, pleasantly enough.
“No; home sort of ran away from us,” answered Ned, with a laugh.
The sergeant looked at him closely for a moment, and then smiled himself.
“What’s the story?” he asked. “That is if you don’t mind telling me. Perhaps it might save trouble in the end,” he suggested.
“We’ll tell you,” replied Frank, and at a nod from the sergeant the other seamen in the room arose, saluted and went out.