"Oh, he had 'cold feet' a few days after we left New York, and wrote to his friends to get his discharge," said "Bill." "Got it and quit two weeks after we left New York, the duffer," added "Hay." The "Yankee" still steamed on into the bank of fog. "Cupid," the ship's bugler, began to play the call for general quarters, but was stopped by a sharp command from the bridge. What was it all about? Was it to be tragedy or farce? Then Scully came down the starboard gangway, a broad smile on his ruddy face. A clamoring group gathered round him instantly. "What is it?" "Is the 'old man' playing a joke on us?" "Do you suppose Cervera has got over to this side?" "Scully," overwhelmed with questions, put up his hands protestingly. "No, no; none of those things," said he. "What do you suppose we have been doing for the last twenty minutes?" We confessed we did not know. "Chasing thunder claps--nothing more nor less than thunder claps! And we'll see nothing worse on this coast," he added sententiously, as soon as he could get his breath. The wind rose, and while it blew away the fog in part, it kicked up a nasty sea, in which the "Yankee" wallowed for hours, waiting for the fog to clear enough to make the channel and enter New York harbor. It seemed we had been heading for New York, and we did not know it. It was not the custom aboard that hooker to give the men any information. [Illustration: "THE 'YANKEE' DROPPED HER ANCHOR OFF TOMPKINSVILLE"] When we learned for sure that we were bound for New York, our joy was beyond measure. Shore leave was the chief topic of conversation. And every man not on duty went down into his black bag, fished out his clean blues, and set to work sewing on watch marks and cap ribbons. For Jack must be neat and clean when he goes ashore. The mud-hook was dropped in the bay off Tompkinsville, Thursday, May 26th, seventeen days after we left the navy yard. It seemed seventeen months. An "anchor watch" of sixteen men was set for the night, and most of us turned in early to enjoy the first good sleep for many weary days. All hands were turned out at five o'clock. We woke to find a big coal barge on either side of the ship. After breakfast the order "turn to" was given. "All hands coal ship, starboard watch on the starboard lighter, port watch on the port lighter." From seven o'clock in the morning till twelve o'clock that night, the crew of the "Yankee"--aforetime lawyers, physicians, literary men, brokers, merchants, students, and clerks--men who had never done any harder work than play football, or row in a shell--coaled ship without any rest, other than the three half hours at meal times. About the hardest, dirtiest work a man could do.