All hands were becoming hilarious. The runners seemed uneasy, for the _Fuller_ was known as a bit of a rough ship, and it was strictly against the law for them to be on board. But a pay-off of close to three thousand dollars forward was too tempting to allow around loose in the harbor. "No more of this work wagon for me," shouted Australia. Snatches of song were interrupted by an order of unmistakable force. "Lay aft, all hands!" It was Mr. Zerk who came forward and bellowed at the gang about the fore fife rail. We mustered aft, the shore harpies watching us from the sides of the forward house. "All here?" "All aft, sir," Old Smith answered. Captain Nichols stepped out on the break of the poop. "Men," he began, "the voyage is over, but we will lay in the bay and strike t'gallant masts before we go under the bridge. You can do this if you want to, or you can go ashore now. I have found you a good crew, ready, and sober. Those who want to go ashore step over to port." All hands did, including Second Mate Tom, who now stood with his old messmates, after a brief four months as an officer aft. "Peter, come back, and you, Felix. You two stay aboard till we dock. The rest of you can go. I want to say 'good-bye' and wish you good luck. Be careful where you go and what you do." As the skipper finished the longest speech we had ever heard him make, he turned sharply and walked aft to the companion. We felt like giving a cheer, but the cold eye of the mate was on us. There was a shuffle and hesitation as to what was next. "Lay forward and get your dunnage, mind that paintwork when you go over the side." Mr. Zerk had given his last order to our crowd. With discipline a thing of the past, with the hasty donning of wrinkled shore clothes, and the ever present tempters, plying them with whisky, the crew became a strange, wild-eyed crowd. Old Smith, Hitchen, and Axel seemed to know what they were about. Scouse was belligerent, half tipsy, and wild with the knowledge that he was at last to step from those hated decks. Frenchy, of all the gang, showed the most sense. "I am saving all I can out of this," he said. "I will ship across to England or France, as soon as possible." "Come on, stay aboard," I urged. "If I do, I'll never get a ship out of New York," and he knew what he was talking about. Brenden was frankly drunk, _soused_ was his condition, and as fine a sailor-man as there was. I had a lump in my throat when the boats pulled away. There was much hand shaking and waving. Peter and I stood on the fo'c'sle head watching them row ashore. Scouse got up in his boat time and again and shook his fist at the ship.