“Ma-a-a-a-a-a-h!” said the goat.
“He’s laughing at you,” cried Ned amidst a shout as the mascot was taken on board.
The steamer gave a shrill whistle.
“All aboard!” yelled the happy tars, grinning up in a superior way at the men left behind. “See what we get for being good little boys.”
“Hurrah for Hilo!” shouted somebody as they got under way, the boats towing behind the steamer.
“Hurrah for Red Head’s goat!”
“Three cheers for the fleet, boys!” cried Ned, looking back at the imposing array of slate-colored fighting-ships, from the stern of every one of which fluttered the Stars and Stripes.
The cheers were given in true man-o’-war’s-man style. The glad shouts went echoing over the still water and were flung back from the mountains behind the town.
They were soon at the wharf where a clustering throng of natives and white men, mingled with Chinese and Japs, were gathered to stare at the new arrivals. Hilo was a town of white buildings, many of them quite imposing in their architecture, but few above two stories in height.
“Pshaw! This looks just like any other town,” said Herc disgustedly.