Dave Darrin at Vera Cruz | Page 4

dreadnought "_Long Island_" in the latter part of March, 1914.
Certainly the times were favorable for them to see much of active naval service, though as yet they could hardly more than guess the fact.
General Huerta, who had usurped the presidency of Mexico following the death---as suspected, by assassination---of the former president Madero---had not been recognized as president by the United States. Some of Madero's friends and former followers, styling themselves the "Constitutionalists" had taken to the field in rebellion against the proclaimed authority of the dictator, Huerta. The two factions had long fought fiercely, and between the two warring parties that had rapidly reduced life in Mexico, to a state of anarchy, scores of Americans had been executed through spite, as it was alleged, and American women and children had also suffered at the hands of both factions.
Lives and property of citizens of European governments had been sacrificed, and now these European governments looked askance at the Washington government, which was expected to safeguard the rights of foreigners in Mexico.
To the disappointment and even the resentment of a large part of the people of the United States, the Washington government had moved slowly, expressing its hope that right would triumph in Mexico without outside armed interference.
This policy of the national administration had become known as watchful waiting. Many approved of it; other Americans demanded a policy of active intervention in Mexico to end the uncertainty and the misery caused by the helpless of many nations, who were ground between the opposing factions of revolution in Mexico.
With this brief explanation we will once more turn to the fortunes of Ensigns Dave and Dan.
At 6.45 the next morning the telephone bell began to tinkle in Dave's room. It continued to ring until Darrin rose, took down the receiver, and expressed, to the clerk, on duty below, his thanks for having been called.
"Turn out, Danny Grin!" Darry shouted from the bathroom. "Come, now, sir! Show a foot! Show a foot, sir!"
Drowsily, Dalzell thrust one bare foot out from under the sheet.
"Are you awake in sea-going order, sir?" Dave asked, jovially.
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Then remain awake, Mr. Dalzell, until I have been through the motions of a cold bath."
With that Darrin shut the door. From the bathroom came the sounds of a shower, followed by much splashing.
"Turn out the port watch, Mr. Dalzell," came, presently, through the closed bathroom door. "The bathroom watch is yours. Hose down, sir."
With that Dave stepped into his own room to dress. It was not long before the two young naval officers left their rooms, each carrying a suit case. To the top of each case was strapped a sword, emblem of officer's rank, and encased in chamois-skin.
Going below, the pair breakfasted, glancing, in the meantime, over morning newspapers.
Just before nine-thirty that same morning, our young naval officers, bent on joining their ship, stepped along briskly through the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
It was really an inspiring place. Sailors, marines and officers, too, were in evidence.
In the machine shops and about the docks thousands of men were performing what once would have passed for the work of giants. Huge pieces of steel were being shaped; heavy drays carried these pieces of steel; monster cranes hoisted them aboard ships lying at the docks or standing shored up in the dry docks. There was noise in the air; the spirit of work and accomplishment pervaded the place, for word had come from Washington that many ships might soon be needed in Mexican waters.
Eight dreadnoughts lay at their berths. Even as the boys crossed the great yard a cruiser was being warped in, after an eighteen-thousand mile voyage.
Alongside floating stages in the basins lay submarines and torpedo boat destroyers. A naval collier was being coaled. A Navy launch was in sight and coming closer, bearing a draft of marines bound for duty on one of the battleships.
Every sight spoke proudly of the naval might of a great nation, yet that might was not at all in proportion with the naval needs of such a vast country.
"It does an American good, just to be in a place like this, doesn't it?" asked Danny Grin.
"It does, indeed," Dave answered. Then, his bewilderment increasing, he turned to a marine who stood at a distance of some sixty feet from where he had halted.
"My man!" Dave called.
Instantly the marine wheeled about. Noting the suit cases, with the swords strapped to them, the marine recognized these young men in civilian attire as naval officers. Promptly his hand sought his cap visor in clean-cut salute, which both young ensigns as promptly returned.
"Be good enough to direct me to the `Long Island,'" Darrin requested.
"Yes, sir," and the marine, stepping closer, led the way past three large buildings.
"There she is, over there, sir," said the marine, a minute later, pointing. "Shall I carry