"Before you start out, Sergeant, you had better stop in the sick bay and pick up the other member of the party. When I came by there a while ago he was feeling fine and getting ready to dress. He of course will wish to go around with you."
Tommy was feeling perfectly well. A small blue mark still remained on his forehead showing where he had been hit by some part of the wreckage in the accident and knocked insensible. Being fully dressed when the others arrived, they all were soon investigating the wonderful battleship. For two full hours they pestered the patient Dorlan with more questions and inquiries than he could have answered in a lifetime. In the course of their personally conducted trip they were on a visit to the bridge when their attention was again attracted to the small bugler of marines who had been the innocent cause of their presence on board the flagship. He was again sounding the call which they had been discussing when the motor boat dashed under the stern of the vessel and crashed into them.
"What is the meaning of that call?" asked Dick of their guide.
"He's callin' away the motor sailer," replied Dorlan.
"Is he a marine--the little fellow blowing the bugle?" inquired Tommy.
"Surest thing ye know," was the answer.
"Why! He can't be as old as we are," remarked Dick; "how old do you have to be to enlist in the Marines?"
"Those kids sometimes come in at the age of fifteen," answered Dorlan; "they enlist as drummers and trumpeters and serve till they're twenty-one years old."
"May anyone enlist?" Dick asked.
"Sure, if yer old enough."