“Honolulu!” cried a sailor. “I hope we stop there; it’s a fine city.”
Majestically the squadron steamed into the harbor of the principal city of the Hawaiian group. The boys excitedly admired its site at the foot of towering hills that were covered with luxuriant tropical growth, amidst which they could see tall palms with feathery tops.
“Me for the cocoanuts,” cried Herc as he gazed.
“You’d have to be more of a monkey than you are to climb those trees,” chuckled somebody.
“I’ll let you climb for me then, Hughes,” came back Herc as quick as a flash, and the laugh was on the other fellow.
The squadron came to anchor off the harbor and fired a salute which was returned from the shore. Flags could be seen flying everywhere.
“They’re glad to see us,” chorused the Jackies delightedly. “I’ll bet we have great old times ashore, regular field day.”
As the great anchors roared downward, on the stern of each battleship appeared Old Glory,—men-of-war not displaying their ensigns at sea. Speculation was rife throughout the fleet as to whether the rumor concerning the plague was correct. The rear-admiral and Commander Dunham went ashore and on their return all doubt was set at rest.
“Up anchor!” was the order flashed from ship to ship.