“I’ve been through high school,” said Henry, and to himself he thought: “I’m certainly glad mother held me to it. I can see already what a difference it may make to me.” A moment later he said to the chief electrician: “I hadn’t any idea of ever belonging to the Coast Guard, but for a long time I have wanted to be a wireless man. Do you suppose there would be any chance for me on the Iroquois?”
“We have our full complement now,” said Mr. Sharp. “There wouldn’t be any opening on this boat unless we could get rid of—unless one of my assistants should leave.”
Henry looked sharply at the chief electrician. He believed he knew exactly what the wireless chief had started to say, and he believed it had to do with the man now on watch in the wireless shack. But of course Henry made no comment. “I’d like mighty well to be a Coast Guard radio man,” he said. After a moment’s pause he went on: “Won’t you please explain to me again about the officers? You said they were trained at the Coast Guard Academy. And you also said a fellow could enlist as a wireless man and yet rank as an officer. I don’t exactly understand.”
“I don’t wonder,” laughed the young wireless man. “You see there are three sorts of officers—petty officers, warrant officers, and commissioned officers. The captain of a ship appoints the petty officers from the enlisted crew. Petty officers are men like the boatswain’s mate, the chief yeoman, the gunner’s mate, and the like. From among these the captain chooses men he will recommend for appointment as warrant officers. They get their appointments from Washington. The boatswain, the gunner, the carpenter, and others are warrant officers. The commissioned officers are the trained navigators from the Coast Guard Academy, and bear the nation’s own commission as officers.”
“Thank you,” said Henry. “It’s very plain now.”
Meantime Mr. Sharp had been searching in the wardrobe. He now handed a thick sweater to Henry, and when the lad had pulled it on and buttoned his coat over it, the chief electrician produced a long, warm overcoat, which he made his visitor put on. Then, pulling on a long rain-proof overcoat himself, he led the way out of the cabin. Henry said good-bye to the young radio man, to whom he had taken a great liking, and followed the Chief.
Up to the bridge they mounted, and Henry was glad, indeed, that he was so warmly clothed. The wind swept past so fiercely that he could hardly get his breath when he faced it. A light was burning in the chart house. In the glass-fronted wheelhouse the compass was dimly illuminated. Otherwise it was dark. A figure stood within, silent, almost immovable, his arms grasping the handles of the steering wheel. As Henry peered into the wheelhouse, he saw that the steersman’s eye was on the compass. He was holding the ship true to her course—east three-quarters south.
On the bridge itself two human forms loomed in the darkness. Lieutenant Hill was standing on the port side. He said, “Good-evening,” as Henry stepped alongside him, then continued his vigil, looking steadily into the blackness of the night. When Henry crossed to the starboard side of the boat, he found Quartermaster Andrews also peering intently out over the weather-cloth. The chief electrician made them acquainted. Henry came up close to the rail and thrust his face out over the weather-cloth, but he drew it back in a hurry. The stinging blast struck him with sudden fury. He winked as though something tangible had hit him. Then he made a wild and fruitless grab at his hat, which the wind had torn from his head. The hat lodged against the wheelhouse and he rescued it.
“I had no idea it was blowing so hard,” he said to the quartermaster, “and I wouldn’t have believed that weather-cloth would be such a protection. Why, six inches behind it you can hardly feel any wind at all. It seems to shoot the breeze straight upward.”
The quartermaster smiled. “You’re right about the weather-cloth,” he said, “but this isn’t much of a wind yet. It looks as though we might have a gale before morning, though, and if we do you’ll have a good chance to see how the Iroquois behaves in a rough sea. We’ll be in shallow water for some hours yet, and it always gets rough out here when there is any wind.”