Among the departed ones, Kahemuku and Black Joe were in tow of a colored mission that had sent a boat for them. These poor Kanakas had very little coming to them, and they offered no temptation to the greedy runners. On the other hand, Tommy, for a brief term second mate, at thirty dollars per month, presented the juiciest picking, and strangely enough fell to the lot of the most inexperienced of the crimps who picked him up by accident after the struggle was supposed to be over as he emerged from his exalted cabin under the poop. Tom also departed from the immaculate decks with a feeling of genuine relief. "Well, they're gone," said Peter. "I wish they were back," I said. "Me too," was his reply. When the last boat had vanished beyond the South Ferry slip, we entered the deserted fo'c'sle. The disorder incident to such hurried departure was everywhere evident. Small personal belongings of no intrinsic value, but speaking eloquently of their owners on the long voyage past, were scattered about, Brenden's calendar over his bunk attracted my eye, and I saw that he had carried it along to the last day and had evidently made a calculation of his payday on the beam over his bunk. Names were scratched over most of the bunks. Frenchy, always neat, had left behind a small canvas pouch in which he kept his tobacco and pipe, this was empty, however; a few old burnt pipes, easily identified, were abandoned in favor of the more effluvious five cent cigars so liberally passed around by the runners. In the starboard fo'c'sle, Charlie Horse and Tony had cleaned up their bunks before leaving, but Old Smith left his a sight. Odd playing cards were scattered about, and the smell of whisky, from recent spillings, gave this austere den the air of a blind pig. Old oilskins that had been cast off, by the advice of some of the crimps, were all missing. Peter remembered seeing one of the shore gang bundle these up and take them, no doubt to help outfit the poor fellows again in exchange for their advance; not an item seemed to have escaped the plundering crowd from the beach. The fo'c'sle on my side was populated with ghosts; I was glad when the mate called us aft and ordered the decks swept down. "Cabin grub for supper tonight," announced Peter, coming from the galley. Sure enough, we were given two plates of corned beef hash, made with real potatoes, while some letters that had come aboard were sent forward. I was happy to learn that my folks were well and knew of our arrival, having received the report from Delaware Breakwater. We were particularly happy in all this, but in spite of good news, of good food, and our approaching liberty, we were sad. The _Fuller_ was peopled with the spirits of those so recently departed. Somewhere on shore among the twinkling lights that began to flicker as the dusk crept over the bay, our shipmates were carousing in the wicked city, laying the foundation for another voyage of endless hardship and privation.