Two Boys of the Battleship: or, For the Honor of Uncle Sam
TextCHAPTER XXV – CLEARED
Frank Arden was so excited when he saw, caught by the binding ropes, on the great warship’s anchor, the mysterious box that might mean so much to him and his brother and uncle, that he would have sprung over the side of the Georgetown and caught at the anchor. Indeed, he made a motion in that direction, but a sailor nearby stopped him.
“Wait a bit, me lad,” he said. “I’m in charge of hoistin’ th’ mud-hook, an’ I’ll have it stopped if there’s somethin’ on it that ye want.”
He was a genial Irishman, and, as he said, he was there to pass the signals to the operator of the steam winch when the anchor had been hoisted high enough. In a quick manner, though he did not know all of the story of our heroes, he had grasped the situation. In another moment the anchor hung stationary over the side of the battleship.
It was near enough the deck for Frank to scramble over the side and down the great links of the chain. Some one passed him a rope with a hook on the end – he was so excited he did not know who it was – and he managed to catch the hook in the ropes wound about the box, and so haul it up.
How carefully he did it may well be imagined, for if the box had slipped from the anchor and again fallen into the sea, the chances of recovering it would have been very slight indeed.
Then, clasping close in his arm the tin case, dripping with water and slimy with seaweed, Frank clambered back on deck. Ned was waiting for him.
“Is it the same box?” Ned cried.
“I’m sure it is,” Frank answered. “Isn’t it the most wonderful thing in the world?”
“It certainly is,” agreed Ned.
The two brothers looked at their treasure-trove. About them gathered their mates, some of whom had heard the story. And then word came from the captain, demanding to know what the delay was about in getting the anchor catted, so that the Georgetown might proceed. A lieutenant came forward, and to him Frank briefly told the story.
“Humph!” was the remark. “Well, I think I’d better take this box to the captain, and let him supervise the opening of it. If it contains what you think it does he will notify you.”
Ned and Frank were eager to open the box themselves, but they realized that discipline aboard a naval vessel must be observed, so they made no objections. A petty officer carried the box to the captain’s quarters and the work of getting under way the big craft proceeded.
Frank and Ned were so excited they could scarcely perform their duties, and their immediate superior, seeing this, and knowing what was at stake for them, allowed them time off.
“Say!” exclaimed Ned, as he and Frank went to a quiet part of the deck, “do you really think it’s what we hope it is?”
“Well, I – hope so,” his brother answered, slowly.
They did not have long to wait before hearing the good news. A messenger summoned them to the captain’s office. They had never been there, for it is not often that the commander of a great battleship has a personal interview with an enlisted man. So Ned and Frank spruced themselves up, and went to the appointed place. They found Captain Decker and several of his officers standing about a table, over which had been spread an oilskin coat, and on this reposed the wet, open box. It had been full of papers, which were scattered about the table. And so watertight was the tin case that the documents were scarcely damp from their immersion.
“You are the Arden brothers, are you not?” asked the captain.
“Yes, sir,” answered Frank and Ned, saluting in their best manner.
“Well, I have heard something of your story, and also something of the strange way in which this box was found. I suppose, by some strange trick of fate, we came to anchor near where it was thrown into the bay, and it may have drifted upon our anchor.
“But what you are most interested in is whether or not the box contains any papers that will prove your uncle’s innocence, and restore to him his fortune and yours; is that not so?” asked Captain Decker.
“That’s it – you bet!” exclaimed Ned, impulsively, and then he blushed as the officers laughed at him. No, Ned did not exactly blush, for he was too tanned for the red to show. But he felt “blushy.”
“Well, I am very happy to inform you,” said the captain, trying to speak formally, though there was a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes, “I am happy to inform you that I have examined the papers and from what I know of the revolution and the rebels, I am sure that these papers, so strangely recovered, will completely prove that your uncle had no hand in it. There are also papers which show there was a conspiracy against him fostered by Bernardo. I am sure when the federal authorities see these documents they will at once free your relative, and judgments in the damage suits against him must be reversed, because he was in no way responsible.”
“Good!” cried Frank, and this time he felt “blushy,” for every one looked at him.
“If you like, I will keep these papers for you,” the captain went on, “and put them in the proper hands.”
“I wish you would,” Frank said.
“And further, if you wish, you may prepare a cablegram to send to your uncle,” the commander continued. “I will give orders that it is to be rushed through, and relayed by the government wireless if necessary. For it will be some time before we reach the vicinity of Atlanta,” the captain went on.
“It is very kind of you, and we’ll write the message at once,” Frank said.
“I am only too glad to serve you,” the captain responded. “I have had very good reports of the conduct of yourself and your brother in our recent trouble, and it gives me pleasure to inform you that you two are among those recommended for promotion.”
The captain saluted formally, Frank and Ned, their hearts burning with joy, returned it, and then, turning stiffly, and in the most approved manner, they marched out.
Outside the captain’s office they were provided with a cable blank, and at once wrote a message to their uncle in the federal prison at Atlanta, telling him the good news, adding that there was no doubt he would soon be freed.
And then, this having been done, the great battleship proceeded on her way back North, and to the waters of the United States. The revolution had been put down, the rightful government was in full control, the ringleaders, including the rascally Bernardo, were in jail, and the American business men and residents were in no more danger. The Georgetown had accomplished her mission.
Of the journey up nothing of great moment occurred. The usual drills were held, and they had an added significance, now that those who took part in them realized how much they meant when actual conditions of warfare were encountered. Of course, there were some sad hearts, for gallant comrades had fallen in battle, but theirs was a glorious end, and they had died fighting for the honor of their country. And the honor had well been upheld.
The wounded recovered, and though Frank’s leg pained him occasionally, it was not of any seriousness. Ned’s wound healed completely.
Once again the equator was passed, but there was only a mild celebration. Every one had been initiated, and there was a feeling of sadness as those shipmates were recalled who had taken part in the former fun, but who now had been left behind.
A stop was made at Havana on the way back, and Captain Decker gave the papers, establishing Mr. Arden’s innocence, to a special messenger to take to Atlanta in order that the prisoner might be more quickly freed.
Then the battleship proceeded, but before she reached New York, a wireless message was received for Ned and Frank. It was from their uncle, and read:
“Cleared. Leave for New York to-day. Will meet you there on arrival of battleship. Can’t thank you enough. Fortunes safe.”
“Hurrah!” cried Frank.
“Two hurrahs!” echoed his brother.
“Count me in and make it three!” shouted Hank, the former bully, who was now the battleship boys’ firm friend. In fact, all their chums rejoiced with them.
And now my story is almost at an end. The Georgetown reached New York in time to take part in a grand naval pageant on the Hudson River. There she was anchored along with other sea-fighters, submarines and torpedo boats, and received many visitors. She was an object of great interest, because her part in the recent South American revolution was known through published accounts.
And best of all, one day Mr. Arden came on board. He was a well-known man from the moment he announced himself, and the captain entertained him in his cabin. Thither Frank and Ned went and there clasped hands with their father’s brother, who had endured so much wrongfully, but who had been freed largely through the hard work and the good luck of the two battleship boys. For, after all, luck had played a big part in the affair.
“And is everything all right, Uncle Phil?” asked Frank.
“Everything,” was the answer. “As soon as the authorities received those papers from the tin box they released me. I knew I was innocent, but it was hard to get proof. The papers were the very documents needed.
“I had no idea this Bernardo was such a scoundrel, or I would never have done business with him. However, all’s well that ends well. And I cannot complain of my treatment by the federal authorities. But I was worried for a time, not only about myself, but about you boys.”
“Oh, we made out all right,” boasted Ned.
“So I hear,” laughed his uncle. “Besides saving me you covered yourselves with glory.”
“We didn’t think so the time we let those pickpockets rob us,” remarked Frank. “We felt like a couple of very foolish lads then.”
“Did you ever hear anything of those rascals?” questioned the uncle, with interest.
“Not a word. Fact is, we didn’t get much chance to follow the matter up after we joined the navy.”
“I see. It is a pity. Such rascals ought to be placed behind the bars. They are a constant menace to honest folks.”
“Maybe the police captured those fellows while we were away,” suggested Ned. “I think I’ll make some inquiries. They may have pawned dad’s watch. I’d like to get that back even if we didn’t get our money. I’m going to inquire.”
And he did, with the result that he did recover the watch where one of the thieves had pawned it. But the money was gone forever, and the thieves were never brought to book for the crimes against Frank and Ned for the reason that these two rascals were already serving a term in prison in another state.
“Well, since our fortunes are recovered, we have plenty of money, boys,” said Mr. Arden to his nephews one day when they had shore leave and were out to dinner with him. “I can buy your discharge from the navy, if you like.”
“No, sir!” exclaimed Frank. “I’m going to serve out my four years at least. Uncle Sam’s navy is the finest place in the world, and I’m learning more than I would at college. I’m going to stick!”
“So am I!” added Ned.
And stick they did.