But this state of caution did not extend to the younger members of the ship's company. Least of all to Boatswain's Mate Herc--otherwise Hercules--Taylor and his inseparable chum, Ned Strong, the latter of whom was now chief gunner's mate of the biggest vessel in the navy.
Neither Ned nor Herc smoked. By observation of those who did indulge in the practice, they had discovered that the use of tobacco affected more senses than one, and rendered a man incapable of the highest physical proficiency. The custom of smoking not only impaired the eyesight of many a gunner, but in the athletic sports, of which both lads were so fond, it also showed its bad effects. Ned knew of more than one promising young gun-pointer who had been compelled to relinquish his laurels on account of tobacco-affected eyesight.
As a consequence, the two trim, clean-cut lads, their faces bronzed and clear from sea air and clean living, stood apart from the group about the "smoke-lamp."
"I'm going to send in my name," announced Ned with twinkling eyes. "The aero section of the navy is going to be an important one in the future. There is a good chance for a chap to advance himself in such work."
"By the great horn spoon!" muttered Herc, in his enthusiastic, whimsical way, "I'm with you, Ned. We'll be regular sky-pilots before the summer's out!"
He began to rub his shoulder-blades, while a humorous smile played over his freckled, straightforward features.
"What's the matter?" asked Ned, noting Herc's brisk rubbing of the part aforesaid.
"Oh, hum! I thought I felt my wings sprouting," replied Herc, with a broad grin.
"Tell you what, we've a few minutes yet. Let's get our ditty boxes--or 'ditto' boxes, as you used to call them--and write our applications at once."
"Let's talk a while longer," said Herc, with an odd look.
"Why, what's the matter? Surely you aren't regretting your determination already."
Herc, for reply, bent over and touched his feet.
"No; they're not cold," he said; "I thought for a minute they were." Then he looked up into the cloudless blue vault of the heavens.
"Say, Ned, it's an awful long way up there, isn't it? How far, I wonder?"
"What do you want to know for?" asked Ned, moving away.
"Oh, nothing. Only I'd like to know how far we are likely to tumble, in case we get our applications accepted, and in case we fly as high as the sky, and in case----"