Our commander assured them that we were in search of news ourselves. The
"Talbot's" officers saluted and then waved a farewell.

The narrow, low-lying craft spun about in almost her own length, a
series of quick puffs of dense black smoke came from the funnels, and
then the haze swallowed up the whole fabric.

We were left to take our discomfiture with what philosophy we could
muster. When "secure" was sounded we left our guns with a sense of great
danger averted and a feeling of relief.


CHAPTER VI.

WE BECOME COAL HEAVERS.

The little strip of North American coast between Delaware Breakwater and
Block Island is very interesting, and, in places, beautiful. The long
beaches and bare sand dunes have a solemn beauty all their own.

Though the boys on the "Yankee" took in and appreciated the loveliness
of this bit of coast, they were getting rather familiar with it and
somewhat bored. They longed for "pastures new."

Summer had almost begun, but still the fog and rain held sway. The ship
crept through the night like a big gray ghost--dark, swift, and, except
in the densest fogs, silent. Pea-coats were an absolute necessity, and
woolen gloves would have been a great comfort. All this in the blooming,
beautiful month of May!