dispatch he had sent to his father the morning before. He held the paper with difficulty in the wind and finally managed to read its contents.
“Give consent reluctantly,” it ran.
When he had cabled he had thought of enlisting only as a distant possibility, now, with the permission in his hand, with the vivid impression still in his mind of what the naval service stood for, he felt the desire surge up within him to enlist now, without a moment’s delay.
“Father may cable again to say I can’t,” he reflected as he stood there, buffeted by the wind. “They are so far away, he and mother might not understand how things really are. If I can send a message saying I have applied, before they can send word to me again, that I know would settle it. It would take months to get my father’s signature to the papers giving consent, but he could cable authority to some one to sign for him. The great thing is to hurry.”
Where was the nearest recruiting office, he began to wonder. Certainly not on Appledore Island, no, nor even at Rockford. The nearest was at Piscataqua and—wait, what was
