CHAPTER XIII A GREEN HAND

While the meeting of the Triangle Club was going on at the Grays’ farm, Mr. Wentworth went ashore with the yeoman,--Bob Brackett--to meet a new boy who was to join the ship that afternoon.

As soon as they had arrived at the landing, however, they were approached by a tall, elderly man who looked as if he had come from the country, and had rather a small boy at his side in the Land Scout uniform.

“My name is Jackson,” said he, addressing Mr. Wentworth, “and I have brought my nephew, William Brown, for whom, I understand, a berth has been reserved on the _Bright Wing_.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Mr. Wentworth cordially, “and I am very much obliged to you for being on hand so promptly, for you have saved me the trouble of looking you up at the hotel.”

After shaking hands, Mr. Wentworth turned to Brown with a friendly nod, and then, facing Bob, he said:

“This boy with the mail bag, Brown, is our yeoman, and we shall have to wait until he has been to the post office, before returning to the ship. Do you think, Mr. Jackson, that your nephew would like to go to the post office with the yeoman? It might be pleasant for him to make friends with one of the crew before he goes aboard.”

Mr. Jackson assented, and Billy Brown saluted awkwardly by throwing his arm out on one side and then bringing it up to the back of his head. “He’s a queer duck,” thought Bob, but his meditations were interrupted by Mr. Wentworth.

“You can go now, Yeoman, and be as quick as you can. Remember you are on duty, and you have no other errand but to post the outgoing and to fetch the incoming mail.”

Mr. Wentworth spoke with decision; but his tone was so friendly that any boy would have felt inclined to obey him.

The two scouts went off together at a smart pace; and, as they walked up the street, Mr. Wentworth noticed a great contrast in the way they held themselves. The same thought seemed to have entered Mr. Jackson’s mind.

“I’m in great hopes,” he said, “that the drill and discipline on the _Bright Wing_ may improve Billy’s physical condition. He is a studious boy, but he does not get enough fun or activity out of doors.”

“I understand, sir,” said Mr. Wentworth; “he has an intelligent face and a good bright eye, but his body isn’t well gathered together. He seems to have a little stoop in the shoulders. For how long is he to be on board, sir?”

“His berth is engaged for two weeks, but if there is room for him, he might possibly stay longer.”

“Well,” said Mr. Wentworth, “a good deal can be done in two weeks if a boy is intelligent and willing,--I mean in the way of a start. A good brain and willing disposition are the best sort of help to a boy for getting his body into shape; for, if he can get a strong idea of physical balance into his mind, it will give him an interest in keeping his body up to the mark. But, of course, he needs practice and exercise, too. I understand, sir, that you are also coming on board?”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Jackson, “I’m going as far as Provincetown, and then I shall have to take the train for home. I have not had a good sail for many years, and am looking forward with great pleasure to being on a Boy Scout ship.”

Mr. Wentworth was very glad of this opportunity to find out the special needs of the new boy, and he looked forward particularly to reporting everything he had learned to the Chairman and Mr. Miller.

“I shouldn’t wonder,” thought he to himself, “if we made a good light-weight boxer of the lad before he leaves the ship; but the main thing is to teach him to gather himself together and to swim and row well.” He had a quick eye for such things.

The conversation had not continued much longer when Bob and Billy reappeared with a heavy load of letters and bundles in the mail bag.

Fred Hamilton, the boatswain, was in charge of the launch that lay alongside the landing. Mr. Wentworth ordered the boys into her stern, and then got in himself to give Mr. Jackson a hand. He then went forward to the wheel and the boatswain stood by the engine.

When they returned to the ship, it was recreation hour, and the music of the “ship’s band” greeted the newcomers across the water. Half a dozen hands were stretched over the side to catch the painter of the launch as she approached the side ladder. The Chairman and the Captain were standing on deck ready to welcome Mr. Jackson.

Bob immediately took the mail below and sorted it out according to regulations, while Mr. Wentworth went to the clothes locker to find a suit of “whites”, and a blue working suit to fit the new apprentice seaman, William Brown.

Billy’s “Station Billet” was made out within half an hour from the time he arrived, and Bob was detailed to explain it to him.

Billy made out that he was Number 6 in the Second Division, Second Section, which was in charge of Harold French, as “B. M.”, and Bob offered to take him to French so that he could report at once.

French looked him over quietly and then said, “You know how to swim, I suppose?”

“Yes,” said Billy, “I’ve done my fifty yards.”

“How about diving?” asked French.

Billy put his hand on his stomach with a smile and said with a peculiar drawl, “I’ve had a good many slaps right here. I’m not much good at that.”

“Probably you don’t swim under water, then,” replied the “B. M.”

“No,” said Billy, “and we never went beyond our depth where I learned swimming.”

“Well,” said French, “we’ll have to go with you under water the first chance we get, and I guess we can teach you a thing or two.”

Billy answered these questions with a deliberate air and without any evidence of being ill at ease. He evidently was in the habit of thinking before he spoke, and carefully listening to what was said; and, although his carriage was poor and his physique not particularly strong, French liked the clear, steady look in his eyes.

As Billy was turning away, the “B. M.” called after him, “Say, young fellow, have you put your things into your locker and got them in order yet?”

“Yes,” replied Brown.

“Well,” said the “B. M.”, looking at his watch, “we’ve got twenty-five minutes before prayers, and I guess we can go forward and have ten minutes’ drill.”

Then he turned for a minute to Dick Gray who had just returned on board, and said in an undertone: “You just keep an eye on him, Dick, and show him the ropes.”

At that moment there happened to be nobody on the forward deck, so that French and Billy and Dick had it all to themselves. French gave his commands in a comparatively subdued voice, so as not to attract a crowd, and then suggested to Brown a few simple ideas about the attitude of respectful attention and the significance of it in the daily life of a scout, while Dick took the position to illustrate what French meant.

Billy was rather awkward, and his large round eyeglasses and prominent ears gave him a queer look of somehow being out of place in his new surroundings; but French noticed that he seemed to enjoy the drill and to take a genuine interest in what he was being taught.

“Heels together, little finger on the seam of your trousers, chest up, stomach in,--don’t bend backwards, balance on the instep--neck straight, chin in. There, sonny, that’s the way you want to hold yourself at quarters, or any time ‘at attention.’ But you can’t expect to do it easily without teaching your body to be strong in the right places. You seem kind of soft now, and here’s a little medicine that will help harden you a bit.”

Then he and Dick showed him an exercise in deep breathing and stretching. “Do that six times, two or three times a day, and I guess it will give you a lift,” said French.

Billy thought of thanking French, but somehow or other felt that his gratitude would not be appreciated,--or else that he had better show it by making progress rather than by words,--so he drew himself up straight and waited to see what was going to happen next. Just then the boatswain’s call sounded out sharp for prayers, and they all went down the companionway to the berth deck.

Billy’s locker and bunk were not far from Dick’s, and after “tattoo” they undressed together and talked about a number of things that had aroused Billy’s curiosity. They were interrupted by the sounding of “taps”; and a minute after Bertie Young, the master-at-arms, made his rounds to see that all were in their bunks and that everything was quiet.

“He knows mighty little about a vessel,” thought Dick, as he turned over in his bunk, “but he’s a great one for asking questions, and I shouldn’t wonder if he knew the whole thing before long.”

In the next bunk but one, Billy lay thinking about the farm and the home folks. “I wonder,” thought he, “whether Roger has remembered the special feed for the calf.” Then, in another minute, he was thinking of the ship again, and of his present surroundings, and wondered how he could have come into so entirely different a world within only fifty miles of the world he had left behind him. “There are lots of things on board this ship,” thought he, “that I never heard of in my life; but I’ll do my best to learn every one of them, and won’t the boys at home be surprised!”