"What do you suppose we have been doing for the last twenty minutes ?" We confessed we did not know.
"Chasing thunder claps--nothing more nor less than thunder claps! And we'll see nothing worse on this coast," he added sententiously, as soon as he could get his breath.
The wind rose, and while it blew away the fog in part, it kicked up a nasty sea, in which the "Yankee" wallowed for hours, waiting for the fog to clear enough to make the channel and enter New York harbor.

It seemed we had been heading for New York, and we did not know it.

It was not the custom aboard that hooker to give the men any information.
[Illustration: "THE 'YANKEE' DROPPED HER ANCHOR OFF TOMPKINSVILLE"] When we learned for sure that we were bound for New York, our joy was beyond measure.
Shore leave was the chief topic of conversation.

And every man not on duty went down into his black bag, fished out his clean blues, and set to work sewing on watch marks and cap ribbons.

For Jack must be neat and clean when he goes ashore.
The mud-hook was dropped in the bay off Tompkinsville, Thursday, May 26th, seventeen days after we left the navy yard.