Two Boys of the Battleship: or, For the Honor of Uncle Sam

“Did you help take part in a real revolution?” asked Ned. “If you did – say – cracky! Why didn’t you tell us?” His eyes sparkled.

“No, I had no part in the revolution, either actually or in furnishing money or arms,” said his uncle. “I was simply doing business with the revolutionary party – buying and selling goods and trying to make an honest living. But for some reasons of their own, the political tricksters down there are making trouble for me.

“It seems that the property of some United States citizens was damaged in some recent fighting, and they have demanded money satisfaction. Our government has taken up their claims, and they look to me to settle the loss.”

“Why to you?” asked Frank.

“Because it is falsely asserted that I financed the revolution. It is all pretty complicated, and I don’t expect you boys to understand it all. But the pith of the matter is right here. The United States citizens who have suffered losses in Uridio are trying to make me pay. To do so would take all your money and mine that is invested down in the South American republic, and we would be ruined.”

“And if you fight the claim?” asked Ned.

“I have fought the claim, but witnesses were suborned and I cannot prove that I was in no way responsible.”

Frank whistled.

“It looks serious,” he said.

“It is serious!” declared his uncle. “I have been served with legal notices, and the time limit is almost up. I must either settle or go to jail.”

“Jail?” cried Frank, stung by the word.

“Well, that’s what many persons would call it,” said his uncle, with a grim smile. “Really, it will be a federal prison, for it is the United States federal authorities who are acting against me. I won’t actually be locked up in a cell, I suppose, nor set to breaking stone, and I may not have to wear stripes. You see it is a sort of political business accusation against me.”

“But why do you have to go to jail, or to a federal prison, at all?” asked Ned. “Can’t you be bailed?”

“Too late for that after conviction. What I need now is money to continue the fight.”

“Use your own money – or ours!” cried Frank, eagerly. Both lads loved their uncle almost as a father.

“The trouble is that your money and mine will be attached – held in escrow, I believe they call it – to settle for these damages in case I can not prove my innocence of having financed a revolution,” Mr. Arden declared. “So with our money tied up that way, none will be available, and I’ll have to be – well, let us call it detained – for years,” and once more he smiled grimly.

Ned and Frank did not know what to think. They asked their uncle many questions, and he answered them as best he could; but they did not understand all the details.

“As near as I can figure out,” said Frank, when he and his brother went up to their rooms just before supper, “Uncle Phil is accused of starting a revolution, which he didn’t. And in the revolution some damage was done that must be paid for, and they’re looking to him to put up the money. If he doesn’t they’ll lock him up, and put his money in their own strong boxes, where he can’t use it to fight the case further.”

“That’s about the way it sizes up,” agreed Ned.

“Well, what’s the next move?” asked his brother.

“Hanged if I know,” said Ned. “I can’t think of anything. And I haven’t got any too much cash on hand,” he added, as he went over to a box on his bureau, where he kept his money.

“It sure is a queer situation,” conceded Frank. “If we were only on a battleship now, we could go down to that little measly one-horse South American republic, unlimber our big guns and tell ’em to fork over our money, and dig up evidence to clear Uncle Phil, or we’d shoot!”

“Yes,” sighed Ned, “we might do that. But the chances of our getting on a battleship are about a thousand to one.”

If he had only known what was coming!

After supper the boys had another talk with their uncle, and he showed them some of the legal papers that had been served on him that day just before they came in out of the rain.

“How long before you may be confined?” asked Frank.

“Three days,” was the answer. “But I’m going to try and stave it off.”

It was a vain attempt, however. Three days later, when the storm had cleared, the boys came in from a fishing trip and found Mrs. Brun weeping, and the servants very much upset.

“What has happened?” demanded Frank of the housekeeper.

“Your dear – uncle – they came and took him away,” she sobbed.

“Took him away! Who?”

“I don’t know. But he told me to tell you he was under arrest, and that you would understand.”

“Under arrest!” exclaimed Frank, and as Ned echoed the words the brothers looked apprehensively at each other.

CHAPTER IV – SHIFTING FOR THEMSELVES

Gradually, from the very much upset housekeeper and from the servants, Ned and Frank obtained an account of what had happened. Their uncle, who had been busily engaged in the intervening days in trying to straighten matters out, had arrived from New York in the early afternoon.

He had been busy in the library over papers and documents, when two strangers called and spent some time with him. There were loud words, the housekeeper said, and then Mr. Arden had come out, accompanied by the two men.

“He told me to tell you,” Mrs. Brun said, “that they were taking him to Atlanta.”

“Atlanta!” exclaimed Ned.

“There is a federal prison there,” said Frank. “Well, what happened next?” he asked the housekeeper.

“Your uncle begged and pleaded for time, saying he wanted to see you, and tell you of certain matters. But the men – they must have been detectives I guess – ”

“Probably secret service men,” interrupted Frank. “But go on, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Brun.”

“They took him away,” said the housekeeper. “That’s all there was to it. They said there was a train they could get from New York to-night, and they hurried off. Your uncle only had time to pack a suit case of clothes, and they took him away. And what’s to become of all of us, or who’s to look after things, I don’t know!” she sobbed.

“Well, there’s no use worrying,” said Frank. “I’ll go to see Mr. Thursby. He’s a lawyer, and Uncle Phil has consulted him on some matters. He can tell us what to do. If worst comes to worst we’ll let this house, get rent for it, and shift for ourselves. You can easily get a place,” he said to the housekeeper, “and so can the other servants, probably.”

“Oh, yes. It isn’t about that I’m worrying,” she announced, drying her eyes; “it’s you poor boys! What will you do without a home?”

“Without a home?” exclaimed Ned. “Why, won’t we have this place?”

“Oh, no, Ned, dear!” cried Mrs. Brun, who was very like a mother to the boys. “Your uncle said this house was attached also, and that you couldn’t stay here. I don’t know what you are going to do. You can’t rent it and use the money, either.”

“Well, we’ll just have to shift for ourselves, that’s all,” said Frank, with assumed cheerfulness. “It might be worse! We’ll make out somehow, eh, Ned?”

“Oh, I guess. But say, this is sudden, all right!”

“Sudden isn’t any name for it,” commented Frank. “I wonder what we had really better do? I’ll have a talk with the lawyer.”

“Do you imagine we can stay here to-night?” asked Ned.

“I don’t see why not,” his brother answered. “At least I don’t see any one around to put us out.”

“It won’t be as sudden as that,” Mrs. Brun informed them. “Your uncle said it would be a week before you would have to leave here, and perhaps not then, if he could get matters straightened out.”

“Well, then let’s have supper,” proposed Ned. “The secret service men didn’t take away all the victuals, did they?”

“Oh, no; there’s plenty to eat,” the housekeeper said. “That is, if any one has the heart to eat.”

“Well, I feel bad enough about uncle’s trouble, as far as that goes,” observed Frank, “but there’s no use in starving. Besides, we must keep up our strength. There’ll be plenty to do from now on.”

“I’m with you!” agreed his brother. “I don’t know just what we can do, but we’ll do our best, anyhow.”

The household was upset, naturally, but Mrs. Brun managed to put a meal on the table. In the evening the two boys went to see the local lawyer.

He could give them little satisfaction, however, as he knew hardly anything about Mr. Ardens affairs. He said, though, that he would do what he could to aid the boys in case further legal proceedings were taken against them or their uncle.

And there was need of his help, for the next day formal notice was served of the attachment of the Arden property for the benefit of the persons in the South American republic.

“But what does it mean?” asked Frank, when a copy of the papers had been left at the house and a surly man put in charge.

“It means that I’m in possession,” was the answer. “The property has been seized, and will be held for the benefit of the damaged parties.”

“Can’t we stay here?” asked Ned.

“Don’t see how you can very well,” was the answer. “I don’t want to be mean, boys, but orders is orders. If you’ve got any way of living I don’t object to your staying in the house. It won’t hurt it any, I guess. But how are you going to live?”

“That’s so,” conceded Frank. “There’ll not be any money coming in with our uncle away. Our money is tied up, as is his. Have you got much, Ned?”

“A few dollars.”

“That’s the way with me. We’d better go to see that lawyer. Maybe he can fix things up.”

But the legal representative was unable to do anything. The attachment was perfectly legal he said, and the boys were practically ousted. The servants took alarm at the first warning, and left to look for other situations. Mr. Arden had anticipated something like this though, and had paid them up to the end of the month, as he had the housekeeper.

“I don’t like to leave you boys,” said Mrs. Brun, tearfully, “but what can I do? There will be nothing for me to do with that sheriff’s officer in charge. Soon there will be nothing left to cook, and if you have no money – ”

“It is better that you should go,” agreed Frank. “And we’ll go too, Ned.”

“Go! Where can we go?”

“That’s what we’ve got to figure out. I don’t see any sense in staying here, though. We can’t make a living here.”

“What about taking out parties in our motor boat?”

“I don’t believe that would work. I think we’d better sell her and use the money.”

“What! Sell that dory?”

“Well, if our fortune is gone we can’t run her, and if our fortune isn’t lost, we can buy another later. I say, let’s get together all the cash we can and shift for ourselves.”

“Where shall we go?”

“New York!” exclaimed Frank. “That’s the place of opportunities. And say, Ned, I’ve got a scheme!” and his eyes twinkled.

“What is it?” asked the younger brother.

“Tell you later,” was the answer. “If it works we may be able to see Uncle Phil again soon.”

“I’m with you on anything like that!” Ned cried.

There being nothing else for them to do under the peculiar and strange circumstances, the two boys prepared to shift for themselves.

CHAPTER V – IN NEW YORK

Events now began to move rapidly for our two heroes, thus left to their own resources, and at an age when they were not very well fitted to battle with the world. And they were all the more unfitted on account of the life they had previously led.

They had always been well supplied with money, and they had never had to worry about where the next meal was coming from, nor to consider what they should wear. They gave orders to their tailor for suits, and their uncle, as a generous father might have done, footed the bills. It was the same way with their college expenses.

“But I guess this is the end of college,” remarked Frank, as he and his brother were each packing a small valise.

“It looks like it,” Ned agreed. “Yet, maybe it will do us good to shift for ourselves.”

“I’m not worrying about it,” was the response of the other. “We have the best part of the summer before us and something will surely turn up before then. Besides, we’ll get work in New York, I’m sure of that.”

“I guess so,” asserted Ned, with the easy assurance of happy, healthy youth.

The boys had carried out the plan so hastily decided on. They had consulted with their friend, the lawyer, and he had advised it. They had also written to their uncle and received a reply. He advised them not to lose all hope of some day getting back their fortunes, but he admitted that the outlook was not at all bright.

“Matters down in that South American republic are more and more complicated,” he wrote. “They are accusing me of all sorts of things, such as stirring up revolutions, and supplying arms to the enemies of the government. I tell you this so you will be able to discount any stories you may read of me.

“I think your plan of going to New York, and trying for work is a good one. Certainly there will be more opportunities than in Ipswhich. But take good care of yourselves. I can do nothing for you, and I can only say, over and over again, how much I regret investing your money as I did, with my own. But at the time, it seemed perfectly safe, and it would have been but for treachery. I was betrayed, and if I could get the evidence I could prove it, and regain our money. But that is too much to hope.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” sighed Frank.

Following the receipt of this letter the two boys sold their motor boat, and with the money thus received, and with a small supply they had on hand, they laid their plans.

The dear old house was closed, save for one room where the legal officer in possession remained, “camping out,” as he expressed it. He was to stay until the property was sold for the benefit of those who claimed damages from Mr. Arden. But the sale could not take place for some time, as there were law technicalities to be observed.

The servants left, bidding good-bye to the lads. And there were tears in the eyes of good Mrs. Brun, as well as in the eyes of Ned and Frank, as she said farewell.

Their best possessions, which could not legally be included in the seizure, the boys stored with friends in town. Then they selected the most useful of their clothes, and packed them in valises for the trip to New York.

“We’ve got enough to live on for a few weeks, while looking for work,” said Frank, as he looked at the roll of bills which meant so much to them now.

“That is if we don’t try to live very high,” agreed Ned, with a smile. “No expensive hotels or taxicab rides for us.”

“Not much!”

So one warm June morning Frank and Ned set out for the station of the Long Island Railroad, and took a train for the metropolis.

“Some change in our prospects from what we looked forward to a couple of weeks ago,” remarked Ned, as he settled in his seat.

“That’s right. I’m going to miss that motor boat a whole lot; aren’t you?” Frank asked.

“Don’t speak of it,” and Ned’s voice was a trifle husky. “Remember how we were out in that storm?”

“I should say so! That’s the day uncle got the bad news.”

“Yes. And that’s the day we saw the battleship plowing along the big waves, and had an idea we might get on one. Well, I guess that idea has gone overboard and is in Davy Jones’ locker by this time.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Frank, with a somewhat mysterious air.

“What do you mean?” asked Ned, quickly, as the train gathered speed.

“Tell you later,” his brother responded. “I’ve got an idea in my head, that isn’t altogether worked out.”

“Well, don’t crowd yourself too hard,” and Ned laughed.

Really, they were in better spirits than they ever hoped to be after they had heard the bad news. But youthful spirits are very elastic, and easily bound back after being depressed. Which is a very good thing.

Ned and Frank were familiar with New York, as they spent a great part of their time there when college was in session. So it was no novelty to them to enter the metropolis. Their thoughts were busy with various matters as the train speeded along over the flat and not very interesting Long Island plains.

At Jamaica an electric locomotive replaced the steam one, and they were soon shooting along through the East River tunnel, swallowing rapidly to overcome the pressure on the ear drums caused by the low level and the air compression in the big tube.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” Frank said, as they ran into the big Pennsylvania Station at Seventh Avenue and Thirty-third Street.

“In little old New York once more!” remarked Ned. “What’s the first thing on the programme, captain? I’m going to let you lead this expedition as long as you behave yourself.”

“Oh, I’ll do that,” promised Frank. “I should say the first thing was to look for a stopping place, and then get some dinner. It will soon be noon.”

“I’m with you. Oh, say, while we’re at it, let’s pay a visit to the aquarium at Battery Park. I was reading about some new big fish from Bermuda they’ve just put in the tanks, and I want to see them.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to see the sights of New York; don’t fret yourself about that,” said his brother, with a laugh. “We aren’t going to get jobs right away, unless this turns out more of a fairy story than any I’ve read.”

“I’m not worrying,” was the answer. “But come on, let’s take in the aquarium.”

“All right. But first let’s check our grips in the station. No use carting them around with us,” said Frank.

This done, they took an elevated train for lower New York, and soon were at the entrance to the aquarium, which is located in old Castle Garden, once the landing place of immigrants, before the Ellis Island station was established.

CHAPTER VI – ROBBED

“Now for that big fish of yours – where is it?” asked Frank of his brother, as they prepared to enter the circular building which forms one of the finest educational features of New York.

“We’ll find it when we get inside,” was the answer. “It’s a porpoise, and the accounts of it in the papers said it cut up all manner of tricks. Porpoises are very playful, you know.”

“I thought it was a dolphin,” Frank remarked.

“Well, maybe dolphins are playful, too, but this is a porpoise I want to see.”

“A ham sandwich and a cup of coffee would be more in my line,” was the other’s comment. “Don’t be too long at this fishing game, Ned.”

“I won’t. Then we can come out and get a bite. There are plenty of restaurants around here.”

Together they entered the aquarium, and were soon gazing with interested eyes at the porpoise, which was kept in one of the large central tanks. Around the walls of the place were other tanks, with the light coming in from the top in such a way that the fish were plainly visible. There was a new exhibit of fishes from Bermudian waters, and looking at them after having watched the porpoise for some time, Ned remarked:

“Well, Frank, if we are ever lucky enough to get on a battleship that’s sent to Bermuda, I suppose we’ll see such fish as these in their native waters.”

“Yes, it would be great!” agreed Frank, and as he spoke he noticed that a man standing near him and his brother looked at them in a peculiar and sharp manner. Frank did not like the looks of the fellow, and he was even less pleased when the man moved a little nearer and addressed them.

“Are you lads from some ship?” he asked. “If you are, shake! I’m from the Kentucky myself, on shore leave, and it does my heart good to meet a couple of the boys in blue. What’s your berth?”

“We haven’t any,” Frank said, hoping to pass the matter off lightly and leave the man, for he did not like his face or manner.

“Excuse me,” the fellow went on, “but I thought I heard youse say something about a battleship – ”

“Oh, that was just talk,” broke in Ned, more open and ingenuous than his brother. “We’ve been talking of getting on a battleship for some time, but I don’t suppose we ever shall.”

“Well, it’s a great life, believe me!” exclaimed the man. “I’ve put in eight years of it. Hard work, but lots of fun, too. I’ve seen these fish swimming around so thick that you’d think there wasn’t enough water for ’em,” and he waved his hand – not a very clean hand, Frank thought – toward a tank of angel fish.

“Have you been in Bermuda?” asked Ned, eagerly.

“Lots of times,” boasted the other. “Two or three times the ships I was on were sent there on cruises. It’s a great life. Are you boys stopping in New York?”

“For a while, yes,” assented Frank, not wishing to give too much information about themselves to a stranger. He well knew the wiles of some of the unprincipled men of New York.

“I took you for strangers,” the fellow went on, and there came a queer gleam in his eyes.

“We’re Columbia students,” put in Ned, who was very proud of the fact. And then, like a pang, it came to him, that he and his brother would have to give up their places at the university. No longer would they be able to keep on with their studies there. Well, there was no use in vain regrets.

“I thought youse looked like college boys,” went on the man who claimed to be a sailor. “But what’s the trouble? Flunked in your studies that you want to get on a battleship? You can’t be officers first crack after you enlist, you know.”

“Oh, that talk of battleships didn’t amount to anything,” Frank said, wishing the fellow would take himself off. “And we don’t expect to be officers. Ned, come along,” he said, “it’s time we were going.”

They started for the exit, but their new acquaintance persisted in following them. And when Ned, who was an ardent fisherman, stopped at another tank, the stranger halted also.

“I wouldn’t like one of those chaps to get after me,” the man said, indicating two big green morays. The eel-like fish were swimming about and tearing to shreds a smaller fish that had been put into their tank for food.

“They are fierce,” agreed Ned, pressing close to the tank.

“And they’ll attack a man, too,” went on the sailor. “I knowed a feller once – he was on the same ship with me – he went swimming overboard when we was in the tropics, though he was told not to on account of sharks and these morays; but he did, and he got his all right.”

“How?” asked Frank, interested in spite of himself.

“He was all chawed up. We just managed to get him out of the water alive. If youse go on a battleship, look out about swimming over the side when you’re in tropical waters.”

“I guess there isn’t much chance for us,” remarked Frank. “Come, Ned,” he went on, “we really must be going!”

At that moment another man came up, evidently in something of a hurry, and he pressed eagerly forward to look at the morays. He shoved against Frank with some force, and Frank, in turn, collided with the stranger who claimed to be from one of the United States battleships.

“Here, look where you’re shovin’ to!” the sailor called to the newcomer. “What do youse mean by bunkin’ inter my friend here in that way?”

The other did not answer for a moment, but looked the speaker over from head to foot, and an angry look came over his face.

“What’s gittin’ inter youse?” the second man demanded. “I didn’t step on your corns, did I?”

“No, but you shoved my friend here,” and the sailor indicated Frank, “and I won’t stand for anythin’ like that. Not for a minute, no sir!”

“Aw, ain’t your friend got a tongue of his own?” roughly demanded the newcomer. “I didn’t hear him kickin’ none!”

There was contempt in his tone, and anger also.

“It really doesn’t matter,” Frank said. “I have no doubt it was an accident.”

“Of course it was,” insisted the man who had offended. “Youse is a gentleman, youse is, an’ I apologizes.”

“Does that mean I ain’t no gentleman?” asked the sailor, in fierce tones.

“Youse kin take any meanin’ from it youse likes,” was the cool answer. The newcomer was about to walk away, when the sailor stepped up to him quickly, fairly crowding Ned and Frank together to do so, and he grasped the shoulder of the fellow who had apologized to Frank.

“I’ll show youse who’s a gentleman!” cried the sailor. “You can’t insult me, nor bunk inter friends of mine!”

The two stood close together glaring at one another, with Ned and Frank between them. A crowd gathered in front of the moray tank.

“Come on, Ned, let’s get out of here!” whispered Frank into his brother’s ear. “There’ll be a fight in a minute, and we don’t want to be mixed up in it.”