Then, indeed, things moved fast. At the desk of the chief clerk of the Navy Department the three budding naval officers stood with their right hands raised while the official at the other side of the desk administered to them the oath binding them to loyalty to the government and to obedience to all lawful orders of their superiors.
“And now, gentlemen,” continued the chief clerk, “I will send for Ensign McGrath, who is on duty here, and present you to him. He will go with you to the tailor’s, and will see that you are properly rushed to the train that you are to take. Remember, you are not to pay for your uniforms or equipment. The bill will be sent here.”
Ensign McGrath looked sleepy, but proved to be a hustler. One of the Department’s autos was out in the grounds, and into this McGrath bundled the three submarine boys. Five minutes later they were in the tailoring establishment, where a good many ready-made uniforms were kept for sale.
What a whirl it was. Yet, in twenty minutes, each submarine boy found himself in the duty uniform of a United States junior naval officer, each uniform adorned with the insignia of the wearer’s rank. In the meantime, dress-suit cases had been procured from a store near by.
“All right and proper,” nodded Ensign McGrath. “And—I’m not throwing bouquets, gentlemen, but you really look as though you had been born for the uniforms. Now, only one thing is missing—the swords.”
“Are we to wear swords?” asked Jack, his face flushing with pleasure.
“Under certain conditions, on duty, naval officers wear swords. You will need them as parts of your equipments.”
The dealer brought these side-arms at once. The naval sword is a handsome one, vastly more natty than the infantry side-arm of a junior officer.
What a thrill each submarine boy felt as he was shown how to adjust his sword to the belt!
“They’re really nonsensical jewelry in these civilized days,” declared Ensign McGrath, dryly. “But the regulations call for swords at some times. Now, gentlemen, you will need to get your uniforms off as quickly as you can, and the tailor’s helpers will pack them in your suit cases. You travel in citizen’s clothes, and don your uniforms as soon as you get aboard the gunboat.”
Ten minutes later each proud submarine boy picked up his suit case and sword, the latter, in each instance, being inside of a chamois-skin carrying case.
In single file they made their way to the street.
“Now, for the last leg of the race in Washington,” announced Ensign McGrath, as they entered the automobile once more.
“I wonder if it will happen on the way, or at the station?” laughed Jack, as the government gas-wagon whirled them down Pennsylvania Avenue.
“Will what happen?” inquired McGrath.
“Why,” laughed Benson again, “I know we’ve got to wake up out of this trance, but I can’t figure when it’s going to happen.”