Herc recollected Ned's advice, and bottled his rage. In a cutting voice, however, he rejoined:
"At the Training School they told us that most sailors were gentlemen. I guess they were dead wrong."
"Fire's out!" yelled somebody; but as, by this time, they were almost alongside the towering, slate-colored sides of the Manhattan, a quick cry of "Hush!" ran through the boat, and the Dreadnought Boys, for the present, escaped further trials of their tempers.
"Aren't we going to board the ship?" asked Herc, as the launch approached the Manhattan, which was swung up-stream, with the tide.
"Of course," replied Ned.
Both lads spoke in an undertone, so as not to run the risk of incurring a rebuke or the bringing down of further teasing on their heads.
"But there is a gangway hanging over the side right there," objected Herc, pointing to a substantial stairway leading from the stern structure of the big war vessel to the water's edge.
"Why, you lubber," laughed Ned, "that's the officer's landing place. We are not allowed to land on the starboard side. We jackies have to go round to the port side of the ship."
"Humph!" remarked Herc, in whose mind a very distinct feeling that he should not like the navy was beginning to take shape.
In a few minutes the launch drew up at the officer's gangway, and the young midshipman leaped in an agile manner onto it. The launch then continued round the steep bow of the Manhattan, which towered like a mighty cliff of gray steel above the boys' heads. It steamed on till it arrived beneath a number of "Jacob's ladders" dangling from booms projecting several feet outward from the vessel's side.