After a week of it they were standing one afternoon on the forecastle of the Exeter watching the coaling of a giant dreadnought from an electric collier when a naval officer, immaculate in white linen and surrounded by his staff, came aboard.  After an exchange of salutes between the deck officer of the Exeter and the visiting officer, and a brief chat, the recruits were ordered to fall in.  The naval officer in white stepped forward.

“You boys will be distributed at once among the vessels now in the yard to make up the necessary complement of crews.  The department is very anxious to put some of you aboard the submarine fleet now fitting out here, and if there are any in the crowd who would prefer service in the submarines to any other service you may state your preference.”

Jack and Ted stepped forward immediately.  Other boys followed suit.  And so it came about that Jack Hammond and Ted Wainwright found themselves detailed to the U.S. submarine Dewey.

A young officer approached and introduced himself.  “I am Executive Officer Binns, of the Dewey.  If you boys are ready we will go right aboard.  We expect to go down the bay on some maneuvers this afternoon and want to get you fellows to your places as quickly as possible.”

The whole thing was a surprise to Ted and Jack.  They had expected to be kept in the yard a long time, quartered on the training ship.  To get into active service so soon was more than they anticipated.

Marched across the navy yard they soon came in sight of the Dewey—–­a long cigar-shaped castle of steel, sitting low in the water, riding easy at the end of a tow line near the drydock.  Up on the conning tower a member of the crew was making some adjustment to the periscope case, while from astern came the hum of motors and the clatter of machinery that bespoke action within the engine room below.

“Looks like a long narrow turtle with a hump on its back, doesn’t it?” whispered Jack as he and Ted came alongside.

They were passed aboard by the sentry and there on the deck welcomed by the officers and members of the Dewey’s crew.  Turned over to big Bill Witt, one of the crew, they were directed to go below and be assigned to their quarters.

Down through the hatchway clambered Witt, followed close by Ted and Jack, and in another moment they found themselves in the engine room.  Electric lights glowed behind wired enclosures.  Well aft were the motors and oil engines, around them switchboards and other electrical apparatus—–­a maze of intricate machinery that filled all the stern space.  The air was hazy and smelled strong of oils and gases.  Huge electric fans swept the foul air along the passageway and up through the hatchways, while other fans placed near the ventilators distributed the fresh air as it poured into the vessel, drawn by the suction.