At their docks, freight steamers were being unloaded, or were discharging their cargoes into transportation barges fastened alongside. Busy, noisy, important little tugs blew their shrill whistles as they steamed along with some steamer or heavily laden barge in tow. Little any one in Hamburg Harbor that calm, bright, beautiful morning, dreamed that when the sun was but a little higher in the heavens, one of these same little tugs, under the command of her brave captain, would perform a deed of heroic daring.
For many minutes, not a word was spoken by the three friends, so completely were they absorbed in the wonderful scene. Then, as he drew a long breath, “Isn’t it great?” said Tom, and the spell was broken. “Makes you realize there is great work going on in the world,” thoughtfully observed Dick. “It’s all wonderfully interesting,” agreed Bert, “but what really interests me most is not what is going on on water, but what will be going on on land within a few days.”
At his words they wheeled with one accord and fixed their eyes on the land. Careless now of all the harbor sights and sounds, they gave scant heed to the great commercial city with its miles of river harbor. The one great thought that dominated every other was that very soon now their feet would be set on German soil, and then away to Berlin to match American speed and skill against the athletes of the world. For this they had traveled thousands of miles across the sea, and what would be the outcome? victory or defeat? When, the trial ended, they should stand on the deck of this steamer, homeward bound, would it be with hearts swelling with proud triumph, or sinking at the prospect of going home beaten? “Wouldn’t you like to know now fellows,” breathed Tom, “what’s to be the answer?”
“Why,” said Bert quietly, “don’t you know? It’s going to be victory, of course. Anything else is not to be considered for one moment.”
“Right-o,” said Dick, brightening, “and here and now we cross out the word defeat from our vocabulary and pledge ourselves to win.”
With a hand clasp all around to seal the pledge, they took the cabin stairs with one bound as the breakfast gong sounded.
“Well,” said Dick, as he seated himself at the table, “our last meal on board. Let’s make the most of it.”
“Yes,” Tom assented with comic seriousness, his face drawn into doleful lines, “for we don’t know where we will get the next meal.”
“What do you care where we get it, as long as we get it?” summed up Dick, as the laugh subsided.
Breakfast over, they stood with the others on deck, waiting only for the checking of the baggage to go ashore. As they waited, the busy harbor again claimed their attention. Six or seven hundred feet away, a large freight steamer was rapidly unloading into a barge that waited at her side. “What do you suppose her freight is?” Bert asked of a gentleman beside him who had been especially chummy with the young Americans. “Oh, it may be anything,” laughed his friend. “From silk and linen to dynamite.”