I found many who had no ready cash, and I soon made good use of the English pounds I had bought before I left home. Then I bethought myself of the £40.0.0 draft I had. I had not “crossed” this, so it was good for cash if I could get anybody to cash it. The bank doesn’t open at Queenstown until 10 o’clock, and you can bet I was there at ten minutes to. I rang the bell and got inside, took out the still half-soaked draft, endorsed it in the presence of the cashier, handed it in and said I would take the £40.0.0 half in gold and half in paper. He told me he didn’t know me; and I told him that didn’t make any difference, I didn’t know him. He said he couldn’t guarantee my signature, but I told him that I thought my signature was as good as his money. I produced my soaked passport and showed him my autograph on that, to compare with that on the draft, and I told him that I had about 12 half-starved, half-naked Americans that had to be fed and clothed, and certainly his big Irish heart wouldn’t permit him to refuse to cash an honest draft. I told him I intended to stay right there until I got it; and I did, and I talked to him a steady string, and I didn’t get a bit hard-hearted when he told me he’d probably lose his job if the draft turned out bad. The £40.0.0 was a God-send. I divided it up into as small fractions as possible, and it was able to help out a number of people. Right here I want to say that the United States consul at Queenstown, Wesley Frost, is a real man, and before noon word had been passed around that Ambassador Page had sent him plenty of funds for all Americans. Perhaps if I had known this money was coming, I wouldn’t have given that honest Irish paying teller in the bank such an attack of heart disease. Then I went back to the “Bar” and my landlady gave me a real breakfast, for I felt that I needed to get stoked up a bit before I took on the unhappy task of viewing the bodies to see if I could identify any of my fellow passengers. It was a hard thing to put through, and I regret to say that it was without satisfactory results, for I found not one that I knew. In the slip beside the Cunard wharf there were six lifeboats, Nos. 1, 11, 13, 15, 19, and 21; these were all starboard boats, and you will notice what a jump there is between the numbers 1 and 11. As the ship went down by the head, of course it gave more time to clear the after boats which carry the higher numbers. I didn’t see one boat successfully cleared from the port side.