At last, late in the evening of Christmas Day, amidst the most enthusiastic cheers of all the inhabitants of Cisco, who welcomed them with a splendid pine brand procession, Marston and his friends, thoroughly used up, feet swelled, limbs bruised, bones aching, stomachs seasick, eyes bleared, ears ringing, and brains on fire for want of rest, took their places in the State Car waiting for them, and started without a moment's delay for Sacramento, about a hundred miles distant. How delicious was the change to our poor travellers! Washed, refreshed, and lying at full length on luxurious sofas, their sensations, as the locomotive spun them down the ringing grooves of the steep Sierras, can be more easily imagined than described. They were all fast asleep when the train entered Sacramento, but the Mayor and the other city authorities who had waited up to receive them, had them carried carefully, so as not to disturb their slumbers, on board the _Yo Semite_, a fine steamer belonging to the California Navigation Company, which landed them safely at San Francisco about noon on the 26th, after accomplishing the extraordinary winter journey of 1500 miles over land in little more than nine days, only about 200 miles being done by steam. Half-past two P.M. found our travellers bathed, dressed, shaved, dined, and ready to receive company in the grand parlor of the _Occidental Hotel_. Captain Bloomsbury was the first to call. Marston hobbled eagerly towards him and asked: "What have you done towards fishing them up, Captain?" "A good deal, Mr. Marston; indeed almost everything is ready." "Is that really the case, Captain?" asked all, very agreeably surprised. "Yes, gentlemen, I am most happy to state that I am quite in earnest." "Can we start to-morrow?" asked General Morgan. "We have not a moment to spare, you know." "We can start at noon to-morrow at latest," replied the Captain, "if the foundry men do a little extra work to-night." "We must start this very day, Captain Bloomsbury," cried Marston resolutely; "Barbican has been lying two weeks and thirteen hours in the depths of the Pacific! If he is still alive, no thanks to Marston! He must by this time have given me up! The grappling irons must be got on board at once, Captain, and let us start this evening!" At half-past four that very evening, a shot from the Fort and a lowering of the Stars and Stripes from its flagstaff saluted the _Susquehanna_, as she steamed proudly out of the Golden Gate at the lively rate of fifteen knots an hour. CHAPTER XXIII. THE CLUB MEN GO A FISHING. Captain Bloomsbury was perfectly right when he said that almost everything was ready for the commencement of the great work which the Club men had to accomplish. Considering how much was required, this was certainly saying a great deal; but here also, as on many other occasions, fortune had singularly favored the Club men.