"Come in!" he called out, and a colored mess boy stuck his woolly head into the room.
"Yoh clo'es will be ready foh yoh all in jest a jiffy, sah. Here am yoh rubber shoes dry a'ready an' de tailor am a-pressing yoh pants and yoh coats, sah."
"Where did you find our coats?" inquired Dick. "They were in the rowboat the last I knew."
The colored boy grinned broadly, showing an expansive row of shining white teeth.
"Ah don't rightly know foh shu, boss, but Ah reckon dey foun' 'em floatin' on de water an' fetched 'em aboahd wid yoh boat, sah."
"You mean to say they have rescued the rowboat too and have it on board this ship?" asked Gordon incredulously.
"Shu as shootin', sah, an' Chips wid his little Chips is fixin' of her up good as new. Dey ain't nuthin' we cain't do on one ob Unc' Sam's ships, sah."
With which closing encomium the black face was withdrawn and the door closed.
"Wonder what he meant by his 'Chips wid his little Chips'?" laughingly questioned Robert Meade.
"You will have to ask Dick," answered Gordon rather enviously. For now that he had become so enthusiastic over his determination to follow his father's wishes and become a naval officer he felt he had neglected many past opportunities for learning about the service.