The Brighton Boys in the Radio Service Part 5

"Oh, it's in code," said Slim apologetically; "I didn't know that."

"DETAIL," the lieutenant announced, finding that word. "'Understand and am following sealed orders'. That's the _North Dakota_. She has coaled at sea and is now starting upon some mission known only to her commander and the naval authorities."

Almost as he finished speaking the _Everett_ gave a lurch, her whistle was tooted two or three times, the engines started turning, and the big boat began to vibrate under the pressure.

There was a shout from the thousand or more who had crowded to the river's edge, responded to by the fifteen hundred khaki-clad young men who were lined up at every point of vantage along the vessel's side.

"And we're off, too," shouted Lieutenant Mackinson.

"Hurrah!" cried the three boys from Brighton in the same breath, as they double-quicked it behind the lieutenant to the upper deck.

The scene was one to inspire the most miserable slacker. Somewhere in the upper part of the yard a band was playing Sousa's "Stars and Stripes Forever." From the windows of the ordnance and other buildings at the lower end of the yard workmen hung forth, waving hats and handkerchiefs, and joining in the shouted well-wishes of those along the sh.o.r.e. The crews of every fighting craft in that part of the river sang out friendly advice to those aboard the transport, and two miles down the channel could be discerned the smoke from the stacks of the armed convoys that were to give the _Everett_ safe pa.s.sage to her destination.

Among those at the water's edge the boys could discern the big form of Sergeant Martin, and even as distance welded them in an indistinguishable ma.s.s, they could still see him, towering above the others, his hat describing wide circles through the air.

"So long, fellows; we'll meet you over there," shouted the men of the last vessel they pa.s.sed.

As though by prearrangement the fifteen hundred men on the _Everett_ began singing, "I'm Going Over," sang it to the end of the first verse, then stopped, and from a point well down the river could hear those they had pa.s.sed taking up the second stanza.

Hours later, out upon the ocean, the dim lights ash.o.r.e fading one by one, the fighters for Uncle Sam gave one last, long, lingering look at their native land. And Jerry, voicing the spirit of all, cried out:

"Farewell, United States."

CHAPTER V

THE FIGHT IN THE WIRELESS ROOM

"Oh my; oh, my!" wailed Slim weakly, his head hanging over the side of his bunk. "I never felt worse in all my life. I never felt half so sick."

"Never mind," urged Joe, soothingly, "you'll soon be feeling better now."

"Yes, _he_ will," moaned Jerry, miserably, from the opposite bunk; "_he_ will, but I won't."

The wind howled, the big s.h.i.+p gave a forward and downward lurch, and Jerry would have slid from his bunk but for the quick action of Joe.

"I think I'm going to die. I wish I would," gasped the red-headed boy when he was again laid out at full length. "I had the measles and the mumps at the same time once, but I never felt like this. Why don't they steer this old boat through the waves, instead of trying to jump her over them?"

"There's a heavy sea running," explained Joe; "that's what makes the _Everett_ ride so roughly."

"Wish I was back at Brighton," Slim groaned dismally.

Two hardy youths strolling along the deck, who hadn't been touched by the epidemic of seasickness, stopped to peer in at the porthole. They had mischief in their eyes, and as they caught sight of Slim's humorously pathetic countenance, one of them muttered in a low but distinct voice: "How'd you like to have some fried sausage, and some plum pudding, and some----"

"Shut up!" bawled out Jerry with what strength he had left.

With a loud laugh the two withdrew their heads and disappeared.

At that moment the s.h.i.+p's physician, accompanied by Lieutenant Mackinson, arrived to give what further comfort he could to the seasick lads.

"It is clearing," the lieutenant told them, while the doctor measured out a powder for each boy. "The wind has died down and the sea is becoming calm."

"Oh, yes," the physician added, "in an hour or so you will be feeling better than you did before. Seasickness has a tonic effect, but it's rather a bitter dose."

"Sure is," said Slim weakly.

Nevertheless, it was just about an hour later that Jerry, feeling his nausea leave him almost as suddenly as it had appeared, raised himself on one elbow and looked across at his companion in misery.

"How do you feel, Slim?" he inquired.

"Almost human again," the stout lad replied.

"Going to get up?"

"Guess I can in a few minutes."

"I'm going to try it now," said Jerry. "Seems as if the pilot of this ferry had learned to steer her a whole lot better than he did earlier in the day."

"Yep," agreed Slim, sliding from his bunk. "Certainly was tough, wasn't it?"

"I feel sort of weak in the legs yet," said Jerry, by way of answer.

"Let's go up on deck and get some fresh air."

"Stomach feels as empty as a vacant house; how's yours?" Slim inquired.

"Nothing in it but the lining, and I guess most of that's pried loose.

We've got to wait more than two hours for mess, too."

"How about some fried sausage, and some plum pudding, and some----"

Jerry laughed for the first time that day. "That fellow certainly did make me mad," he admitted.

"Yeh, he made you mad," said Slim in a remorseful tone, "but he made me sick."

On deck a hundred or more vigorous young men were exercising their muscles in various forms of athletic sport. Here a group crowded around a contest in broad jumping, eagerly echoing the distances made, and there the men of another throng loudly applauded their favorites in a stiff boxing bout, while on another part of the deck a pair of one-hundred-and-eighty-pound huskies were struggling in a friendly wrestling match.

A bright sun shone upon a sparkling sea, and the air was just crisp enough to be invigorating. At that moment Joe came up to inquire how his two chums felt.

"Fine," declared Jerry.

"Like a two-year-old," added Slim. "That doctor was telling the truth. I believe I never felt better in my life," and he began flapping his arms up and down like a rooster flails the air with its wings.

"A fat man's race three times around the s.h.i.+p!" a youth yelled, spying Slim's activities.

"Hurrah!" cried the crowd. "Get them started."