Donning their bright new uniforms, which had been the sole contents of their valises, and buckling on their swords, they were ushered into the captain’s spacious quarters.
They found him brusque and businesslike. A hand to each in turn, with a firm manly pressure:
“Glad to have you with us;” then to the attentive orderly:
“Show these gentlemen to the executive officer,” and the ordeal was over.
Phil and Sydney had no time for conversation during the next twenty minutes, while they found themselves hurried through the rounds of official formality and then sent to their quarters to unpack and be ready for immediate duty.
“They gave me no choice of a roommate, did they, Syd?” said Phil, ten minutes later, as he dived into his trunk and commenced to toss his belongings on to his bunk to have them more handy to stow into the numerous small receptacles located about the narrow room which he and Sydney had been ordered to occupy.
“No, they didn’t,” answered Sydney, with a grin, “but we have stood each other for four years; I guess we can do it for two more.”
The last of their belongings was scarcely stowed when a servant announced that the midday meal was ready in the mess room.
They entered and were greeted by more of their former schoolmates. Phil found his seat next to Marshall, an old friend of Annapolis days, who was anxious to give him all the tips possible on what he could expect in his daily life on a battle-ship. Phil listened intently while he breathlessly recited all the gems of wisdom that came into his head:
“You are in Lazar’s division. It’s a crackerjack, too; you’ve got your work cut out for you. He’s a hustler. He isn’t much liked by the middies because he ‘horses’ us so much, but the captain swears by him. Beaty—you remember old ‘Pike’?—he had your job, but I guess Lazar was too many for him. We sent him to the hospital with nerves a week ago. Some of the fellows saw him yesterday, doing the gentleman act there, looking as pink and fresh as a girl. Hope you will manage all right.”