“I was stationed at Boston, and went about some little. I met Bert Winthrop’s sister and, like an ass of a sailor that I am, fell in love with her at the first turn of the wheel. Well, I rolled around after the beauty like a porpoise in the wake of a dolphin for the whole season. Finally I mustered up courage to bring the chase to a climax and got a most graceful conge for my temerity, whereupon I retired in bad order, and was rejoiced when assigned to the battleship Delaware and sent to sea.” As the rollicking sailor ended his story, he threw back his head and began softly singing in a sentimental tone, “Oh! Bessie, you have broken my heart.” “Well, I’ll go bail that the fracture won’t kill you, you incorrigible joker,” said Jack, interrupting the flow of Maxon’s sentimentality. “See, now, our best friends never take us seriously, and sympathize with us when we suffer,” said the lieutenant dolefully. “But to continue my sad story. I was ordered to the U.S.S. Delaware, flag-ship of the Asiatic fleet. Admiral Snave can out-swear Beelzebub, has the sympathy of a pirate, and would work up all the old iron of a fleet if there was as much in it as in the mountains of Pennsylvania. So your poor, delicate friend is tempted to ask to be retired on account of physical disability.” So saying, Tom began roaring with laughter so healthful that it shook his stalwart frame. “Hold though!” exclaimed the U.S. officer, stopping in the midst of his outburst of merriment, suddenly thinking of something omitted. “You must understand that we all admire the Admiral hugely. He is a magnificent officer, and a fighter to the end of his plume; carries a chip on his shoulder when he imagines anyone is spoiling for a fight, or even looks crossways at grand Old Glory.” Thus the two friends talked on, relating their experiences, joking each other, and laughing in that careless happy way, common alike to schoolboys and those who sail the sea. Captain Dunlap declared that this berth was good enough for him, that he would drop his anchor right there, and calling a waiter proceeded to order everything on the menu for dinner, telling the waiter to serve it where they were and serve slowly so that they might enjoy a rambling conversation while they dined. Eating, drinking, talking and smoking, the chums of boyhood days sat for hours, until the streets became, as was the veranda, almost deserted. Suddenly in an interval of silence as they puffed their cigars, a piercing scream disturbed the quiet of the street below. Again and again was the cry repeated in an agonized female voice.