“It is a weary watch, this, for these dogged vessels,” added Astor reflectively. “There is no good counting wind or wave. The Spaniard, too, is not dead yet, worse luck to him.” “I saw that about the _Polly_,” said young Walton interestedly. “Perhaps the government will wake up now to our situation. The Spaniard can wipe our vessels off the seas and hide behind the piracy idea. We need more war vessels and that quickly, I think.” “And I, too,” said Astor. “But we are like to have them now. Only to-day Congress voted to buy more land across the East River there,” and he waved his spy-glass in the direction of the green outlines of Long Island. “And that reminds me,” said Walton, pulling out his timepiece by the fob attached to it; “I but now met Goelet, who says there is to be a boat tried at the Collect which goes without sail. It is to be run by steam.” “Ha!” exclaimed Cruger, “I have no time for such nonsense.” “I heard of it,” remarked Astor. “Possibly there is something to it. There could be no harm in going to see. “I am going” said Walton, “and by-the-bye, it is high time I was on my way.” “And if you have no objection I go with you,” said Astor, who was seriously interested to know if there was anything to this idea or not. Others hearing this joined them. Having thus secured companionship, young Walton proceeded up the Whitehall slip to the Bowling Green, whence, with his friends, he now turned into the Broadway, and so out past the fine residences and occasional stores of that new thoroughfare to the old White residence, where later was to be White Street, and thence eastward, across the open common, to the Collect, where is now the Tombs. Quite a formidable company of sightseers had gathered, the aristocracy, gentry, and common rabble forming in separate groups. A very plain and homely looking individual of the older school, clad in swallowtail and knee breeches, was there with a contrivance large enough to sustain his own weight in the water, which he was endeavoring with a wrench, a hammer, and an oil can to put in final shape for the very important experiment of traveling without sail. Naturally he had the undivided and even pushing and prying attention of all present. While the citizens thus gazed, awaiting in comfortable idleness for something of the marvelous to happen, there came a clattering sound along the east road toward the city, where suddenly appeared the outlines of Van Huicken’s water wagon, a great hogshead on wheels, which, by its rumbling haste, suggested fire. Close after followed the Almerich, another vehicle of the same kind, which secured its name from its owner. Both drivers hailed the crowd while yet a distance off with shouts of “Fire!” and then from distant Fulton Street were heard the sounds of a bell tolling out the same intelligence.