"When we're on the North River we can haul up here and there for want of pilots or wind, or for any other reason that can be alleged, and that will give time for the carpenters to do what work is required to fit the clippers for their guns, and fix up quarters for the crew. An agent of the owners will go to one of the foundries at Troy or Hudson, or some other point,--perhaps he'd better go to two of them,--and negotiate for the guns, which we are to bring down as freight. They should have carriages and all equipments complete, with the exception of the tackles, which we'll get in New York. We can take in most of our stores up the river, and get so nearly ready that we can go to sea at very short notice. All that will be needed will be to ship the balance of the crew, and there won't be any lack of men when war breaks out." David approved my plan, and so did the owners of the two schooners when we called on them the next day. It was carried out in nearly all its details during the latter part of the month of May and the first week of June. The schooners dawdled along the North River under all sorts of pretexts; on the 10th of June they had returned as far as the upper end of Manhattan Island, and anchored on the flats at the farther side of the great stream that forms the chief inland waterway of New York. Haines was my third mate, while Herne filled the same position with David. Our first and second mates were trusty men selected by the owners; they understood the business we were about to a certain extent, in fact, they were too intelligent not to suspect something; but they could both "stow their jaws" when occasion offered, and certainly this was an occasion. They had been told to mind their own business and say nothing, and they carried out their orders to the letter. David and I left our craft at their anchorage in charge of the mates, and came in a sailboat to the city; we went straight to the office of the owners, and were taken to the inner room immediately.