“What is he, then, if you know so much?” “He is a commander.” “How do you know?” “I know by the three gold stripes on his sleeve. If he had two and a half stripes there he would be a lieutenant-commander. If he had four he would be a captain.” Sam looked incredulous. “How do you happen to know all about that?” “I read about it in a dictionary. They were all pictured out there. I know a lot more of them, too, only I’m too busy to tell you about them now. Have you finished filling out your blank?” “Not quite.” “Then you had better get busy. If we take too much time it _may_ count against us. I don’t know about it for sure.” For several minutes thereafter the lads wrote industriously. Dan was the first to lay down his pen, waiting in silence for his companion to finish, which Sam did shortly afterwards. “What shall we do now?” questioned Sam, glancing up into the face of his friend. “I do not know. Give me your paper and I will hand both to the officer over there.” Dan stepped to the commander’s desk, handing the applications to him. “What’s this?” demanded the commander sharply. “They are our applications, sir.” “Give them to the quartermaster.” “Yes, sir,” answered Dan respectfully, turning away. As he did so, the eyes of the commander were fixed inquiringly upon him. “That is a likely looking lad,” muttered the officer. “In fact, they both look like excellent material—good, clean-cut American boys—just the sort of material the United States Navy is looking for.” In the meantime Dan had stepped to the door through which he had observed the petty officer who had first greeted them, and walked towards him. “Here are our papers, sir. What are we to do next?” “Go back and sit down. I’ll tell you when we want you.” The quartermaster seated himself at a desk, where he went over the applications carefully. He looked them over a second time, nodded approvingly, then glanced up quickly at the flushed, expectant faces of the two lads. “You men come with me,” he said, rising. “He called us ‘men.’ Did you hear it? I guess we are, all right,” whispered Sam. The quartermaster conducted them into an adjoining room, where they were turned over to the examining surgeon, who, after scanning their applications, began asking them pointed questions about their parents and their life. In fact, he asked more questions than either lad knew how to answer, for the inquiry went back more years than they had lived. The examination lasted fully an hour, after which the lads were directed to return to the room where they had filled out their applications. “He knows more about me than I ever thought there was to know,” confided Sam to his companion. Just then the surgeon came hurrying in. He laid their applications on the desk before the commander, engaging in earnest conversation with that officer. “I think they are going to turn us out,” whispered Dan.