Then, too, Ned and Herc met with many other experiences in the various countries the fleet visited, including a laughable predicament on the Rock of Gibraltar, when, through the stupidity of an over-officious British army sergeant, they were compelled to spend some hours in a dungeon excavated in the rock. Herc solved the problem of escape and unlocked the dungeon doors by means of wig-wagged signals to the fleet, lying at anchor below the rock.
And now you are better acquainted with Ned Strong and Herc Taylor, and can understand, by perusal of the preceding long but necessary digression, just why it was that they were admired and loved by their shipmates and respected by their officers; and why, too, Captain Dunham should have singled them out for the duty to which he was about to assign them.
[CHAPTER III.]
"ARE WE AWAKE?"
The commander of the Manhattan, an imposing, bronzed figure of a man, and a thorough sailor, swung around in his chair and faced the two young Jackies he had summoned.
"These are the lads I was speaking to you about, Mr. Secretary," he said, addressing his companion.
The lads drew themselves up and saluted, not without a quickened action of their hearts. They guessed at once from the manner in which he had been addressed, that the stranger was one of the "big-wigs" of the naval department. Herc turned as red as his thatch, and the freckles stood out on his round and jolly countenance like the famous spots on the sun.
Ned retained his self-possession better, but in reality he was quite as excited as was his shipmate and chum. Eagerly he waited for words which might offer a key to the meaning of this unusual summons.