as his
inherent love of it and so developed was his capacity for
"playing-true," that he sometimes made me think almost anything might
turn up. I was quite unaware that my mother had written him, or that he,
in return, had promised to keep her fully advised of my improvement--a
state which was already beginning.

"I carn't see how you help talking of it, sir--all that gas, and liquid
fire, and bursting shells," Gates stared at him in perplexity.

"It's an effort, but I refuse to turn phonograph like some of the old
timers--not that I love 'em any less for it, Lord knows!" Then he began
to laugh, and turned to me, adding: "One of the first things I did after
getting home was to drop in on a very dear gentleman who's been a friend
of our family since the Ark. He came at me with open arms, crying:
'Well, Thomas, sit right down and tell me about your experiences!' I
side-tracked that--for I hate the word. We didn't go over for
_experiences_! But he wouldn't be denied. 'Try to think,' he commanded.
'Why, Thomas, old as I am, I remember when Stonewall Jackson struck that
brilliant blow----' and you can shoot me for a spy, Jack, if he didn't
keep me there five hours while he fought the entire Civil War! No
sir-ee! After tonight, never again!"

But Tommy's talk, to which the crew listened in rapt attention, consumed
nearer six than two, or even five hours. These men were hungry for
authentic first-hand information--being too old to have sought it for
themselves.

It must not be inferred that the _Whim's_ crew consisted of the ancient
and decrepit. More than once my father had said that if ever he should
get in a tight place there was no band of six he would rather have at
his back than this one headed by Gates; nor did he except Pete, the
prince of cooks. Yet who, by the wildest stretch of fancy, could have
contemplated tight places or dangers as the trim yacht rode peacefully
at anchor an eighth of a mile off our dock at smiling Miami? To every
man aboard such things as death and the shedding of blood had ceased
with the armistice, and Gates would have taken his oath, were it asked
of him, that our course pointed only toward laughing waters, blue skies,
and emerald shore-lines.

Early next morning we were under way when Tommy pounded on my stateroom
door, challenging me to a dip overboard. There was a glorious joy in his
voice, as far reaching as reveille, that found response in the cockles
of my heart. Gates, never happ