"We did have rather a tough time
in that old boat."
"You did that. As soon as you were hoisted aboard, Dr. Barker
pronounced you down with coast fever. That trip up the river Duff
tells me about, probably planted the seeds, and exposure did the
rest--eh, Doc."
The surgeon nodded, then the chief quartermaster added: "But we will be
at Norfolk in a week, then I'll apply for shore leave and you and I
will go down and see the old man."
"He won't want to see me," remarked Ralph, who then briefly related the
circumstances under which he had been driven from home, his encounter
with Shard, and the latter's mode of placing him at Gary's mercy.
The old warrant officer laughed over the silly feud, while sympathizing
with the boy over its sad results.
"You shall take me home," he concluded. "Father will forgive us both
and we'll liven the old gent up a bit. Perhaps we can get him down
where he can taste a whiff of salt air, especially if I make a
man-'o-war's man out of his grandson."
The doctor now interposed, and said that Ralph had talked, and been
talked to, enough that day. So the boy was left to another refreshing
sleep, after enjoying his bowl of chicken broth.
Two days later he was out on deck, where the neatness, precision, and
martial splendor of everything he saw, quite captivated his young
imagination. When they entered the harbor at Fortress Monroe and
salutes were fired, yards manned, and flags dipped by the Adams and the
friendly foreign war ships anchored there, Ralph felt more than ever
that his vocation was that of a sailor.
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