The red-faced men, crying loudly for a special policeman, were in the act of following them, when--quite by accident, it seemed--the conductor's foot got in the way, and the first of the pair of worthies fell headlong over it, and his companion, who was pressing hard on his heels, piled on top of him. By the time they had extricated themselves, during which period the crowd of passengers behind them, who were also anxious to alight, went almost crazy at having to wait a few seconds, the two lads were far down the sidewalks of Seventy-second Street. After a few minutes' brisk walk they reached the snow-covered slopes of Riverside Drive. "Pulsifer! I know that name," Ned mused, as they hurried along. "I have it!" he exclaimed suddenly. "He's Dave Pulsifer, of Pulsifer Bros., the fellows who make guns in America and sell them to foreign governments." "I'll bet those two were the brothers, then," suggested Herc. "They looked like two ugly pups of the same homely litter." The boys gave the matter little more thought, though had they realized how intimately the Pulsifers were to be associated with their further career, they might have considered their encounter more seriously. "Look, Herc, look!" cried Ned, as they came in sight of the river. From the slight eminence on which they stood, the boys commanded a magnificent spectacle. Up and down the majestic stream, as far as the eye could reach, the grim, slaty-hued forms of Uncle Sam's sea bulldogs swung at anchor. From the funnels of some smoke was lazily floating, while others lay like sleeping monsters on the surface of the dark river. Looking northward, the boys saw only a maze of cage masts--looking not unlike narrow waste-paper baskets turned upside down--and great dark hulls. Here and there a gaily-colored bit of bunting, which as yet meant little to the boys, fluttered from a masthead or from the signal halliards. Between the ships and the shore constantly darted light gasoline boats, or swift launches with big gray hoods over them. "Just think, Herc, _we_ are a part of all that!" breathed Ned reverently almost, indicating the formidable array of fighting craft with a wave of his hand. "Gee! I feel about as big as an ant," whispered Herc, even his irrepressible nature overawed at the sight. "How in the world are we--little, insignificant specks--ever going to distinguish ourselves in all that big array of fighting ships and fighting men?" "We must do our best, Herc," rejoined Ned simply. "And now let's be getting down to that landing place. I think I see some man-o'-war launches landing there. Maybe we will be lucky enough to find one of the _Manhattan's_ boats." As they started down an inclined road which led through the park and across the railroad tracks at its foot, they were accosted by a hearty voice just astern of them. "Hullo, there, shipmates!" it hailed. "Where away?"