The Dreadnought Boys in Home Waters

by John Henry Goldfrap

Within the last week the Dreadnought Boys had taken their first big step upward. They entered Miller's Haven with their commissions on new, crackly parchment, tucked over a pair of as proud and happy hearts as there were in the navy.

Great had been their surprise, when, some four days before we encountered them on the train for Miller's Haven, their commander, Captain Dunham, of the Dreadnought Manhattan, had sent for them. Both lads, as readers of other volumes of this series know, had already gained high non-commissioned ratings.

Captain Dunham's unexpected summons had come on the eve of the long-looked-for "siege" of New York harbor. The Red fleet to which the Manhattan had been commissioned as flagship, was to have the task of attacking the harbor at the gates of Long Island Sound. The Blue squadron was to have the defense of the port. Final arrangements for the biggest naval war game of its kind ever attempted had been made, with an attention to detail and probable actual conditions of a sea attack on the harbor which was little short of marvelous.

With wireless, big guns, Argand signals, torpedoes and submarines every effort was to be made to duplicate as perfectly as possible conditions of a real attack. The newspapers had been carrying columns of copy concerning the big war game, and public interest was wrought to its highest pitch.

But it was in the navy itself that enthusiasm ran the highest. Strategists from all over the world were to be present, and elaborate precautions had been taken to insure Uncle Sam's carefully guarded naval secrets from leaking out. In this connection, what practically amounted to a Secret Service had been established, both on board the great sea-fighters of the two squadrons and also at the twin forts, Totten and Schuyler, which guard the Sound entrance to the East River and the port of New York.

Such, as has been said, was the interesting eve of "hostilities" which prevailed, when to Ned and Herc came the orders to report aft in the commander's quarters at once.

The Manhattan lay in the Brooklyn navy yard being groomed, like a thoroughbred on the eve of a great race, for the important part she was to play as the flagship of the Red fleet. Jackies, every one of them with an alert and keen pride in his work, were dismantling and fitting the big craft till everything about her grim, slate-colored hull was attuned to the condition in which she would be placed were she actually answering a summons to defend the Empire City from the invasion of a foreign foe.

Captain Dunham sat in his cabin in the midst of a great pile of documents of all kinds. The pictures and other objects usually to be found adorning the commander's comfortable quarters were missing. The cabin had been stripped and everything breakable packed away, just as would have been the case had the Manhattan been going to steam out and engage an actual foe. This had been done so that the earthquake-like shock and tremble of the mighty broadsides,—the grim fangs of this sea bulldog,—might not work havoc with breakable things.

The two young non-commissioned officers were passed by the orderly and then stood smartly at attention, trim heels together, bright eyes looking straight in front of them till the commander looked up from some departmental papers he was perusing.