The old warrant officer laughed over the silly feud, while sympathizing
with the boy over its sad results.

"You shall take me home," he concluded. "Father will forgive us both
and we'll liven the old gent up a bit. Perhaps we can get him down
where he can taste a whiff of salt air, especially if I make a
man-'o-war's man out of his grandson."

The doctor now interposed, and said that Ralph had talked, and been
talked to, enough that day. So the boy was left to another refreshing
sleep, after enjoying his bowl of chicken broth.

Two days later he was out on deck, where the neatness, precision, and
martial splendor of everything he saw, quite captivated his young
imagination. When they entered the harbor at Fortress Monroe and
salutes were fired, yards manned, and flags dipped by the Adams and the
friendly foreign war ships anchored there, Ralph felt more than ever
that his vocation was that of a sailor.

True to his word, Uncle Gideon soon started with his nephew for the old
mountain home that he had not seen for more than thirty years. When
Ralph stood aside, and the stern old man gazed upon his first born, the
meeting and recognition were touching in the extreme.

Ralph was forgiven for outliving the feud, and the final result was
that son and grandson carried the lonely old man with them back to
Norfolk, where he was made comfortable in the "Old People's Home," his
own means, supplemented by Gideon's savings, paying all expenses.

One day the quartermaster came into their boarding-house, and on
entering Ralph's room slapped the lad heartily on the back.

"I've fixed it, nephew," said he jovially. "My ship sails in three
days, and I was afraid I might not pull you through in time. But our
captain gave us a lift. You know he stands in with some of the big
bugs in the navy department at Washington.

"What!" exclaimed Ralph enthusiastically, his eyes glowing, "am I
really to get a berth on the training ship as a naval apprentice?"

"Better than that. When I made known that your share of the Wanderer
prize money, and what I could spare would pay your way, captain wrote
to his friend at Washington, and the upshot of it all is you're to go
to Annapolis. Think of that! One year to prepare for your
examination--four years as a cadet--then an ensign. Ah, lad! If I'd
had your chance at your age I might have been at least a lieutenant.
During the war there was more than one such rose to be commodore. But