A. H. Henricks charges that the custom officials refused him a pass to the pier because he wanted to get a member of the ship’s crew, and the official said they were not bothering about the crew. The brothers finally made their way to the pier by running between double lines of automobiles. Weikman was brought off the Carpathia on a rolling chair too late to catch the special train which came to this city, and the Pennsylvania Railroad officials provided him with a berth free of charge. “I was in my barber shop reading,” said Weikman, “when I felt a slight jar and realized we had struck something. I went to the gymnasium to see whether others had noticed it. I found some of the men punching the bag, while Colonel Astor, Mr. Widener and a number of others were watching them. “I had known Mr. Widener for some time, and I advised him to put on a life belt. He laughed at me. “‘What sense is there in that? This boat isn’t going to sink,’ he said to me. ‘There is plenty of time. We’re safer here than in a small boat, anyway.’ “Then came the order to man the boats and I went on deck to help. I saw Mr. Ismay at the rail, directing and helping the men. One of them did not recognize him and said: ‘What are you interfering for? You get back out of the way.’ “GET BACK OR GO OVERBOARD.” “Another seaman warned the first man that he was speaking to the head of the line. ‘I don’t care who he is; he’s got to get back or go overboard. We can’t be bothered with him and his orders now,’ was the reply. Mr. Ismay stuck to his place and continued giving orders and directing the men. “The rule was observed of sending over four women and then a man to look after them. When four women had been put over, the seaman turned to Mr. Ismay and ordered him over the side. Mr. Ismay refused to go, when the seaman seized him, rushed him to the rail and hurled him over. I saw that myself, and I know that Mr. Ismay did not go of his own accord and that the charge of cowardice is unfair and untrue. “While I was still helping at the boats there came an explosion from below-decks and the ship took an awful lunge, throwing everybody into a heap. I was hurled clear of the vessel’s side and landed on top of a bundle of deck-chairs which was floating on the water. I was badly bruised and my back was sprained. My watch stopped at 1.50 A. M. and I believe it was at that time I was thrown into the water. “While I lay floating on the bundle of chairs there came another terrific explosion and the ship seemed to split in two. There was a rain of wreckage and a big piece of timber fell on me, striking my lifebelt. I believe if it had not been for the belt I would have been killed. I floated for what I believe was about two hours. Then arms reached down and drew me aboard a life raft. The man who did this was a seaman named Brown, whose life I probably had saved two years ago by hurrying him to a hospital in England when he was taken ill suddenly.