then owned by the Cubans, lay in the
harbor of that city, with a revenue cutter standing guard over her. She was
ordered to get up steam and to go through all the motions of an immediate
departure. But this was a ruse to draw attention away from the actual
operations. Rubens, meanwhile, had gone to Jacksonville where he busied
himself in convincing the authorities that the tug _Three Friends_ was
about to get away with an expedition. With one revenue cutter watching the
_Commodore_ in Charleston, the other cutter in the neighborhood was engaged
in watching the _Three Friends_ in Jacksonville, thus leaving a clear coast
between those cities. In Charleston were about seventy-five Cubans waiting
a chance to get to the island. O'Brien states that about twenty-five
detectives were following their party. Late in the afternoon of August
13, while the smoke was pouring from the funnels of the _Commodore_, the
regular south-bound train pulled out of the city. Its rear car was a
reserved coach carrying the Cuban party, numbering a hundred or so.
Detectives tried to enter, but were told that it was a private car, which
it was. They went along in the forward cars. At ten o'clock that night, the
train reached Callahan, where the Coast Line crossed the Seaboard Air Line.
While the train was halted for the crossing, that rear car was quietly
uncoupled. The train went on, detectives and all. The railroad arrangements
were effected through the invaluable assistance of Mr. Alphonso Fritot, a
local railway man whose authority enabled him to do with trains and train
movement whatever he saw fit. He was himself of Cuban birth, though of
French-American parentage, with ample reason, both personal and patriotic,
for serving his Cuban friends, and his services were beyond measure. By his
orders, when that train with its band of detectives had pulled away for
Jacksonville, an engine picked up the detached car and ran it over to the
Coast Line. A few miles away, it collected from a blind siding the two cars
of arms and ammunition shipped some days before, from Bridgeport. A little
further on, the line crossed the Satilla River. There lay the _Dauntless_,
purchased by Rubens. Steam was up, and a quick job was made of transferring
cargo and men from train to boat. Another tug brought a supply of coal, and
soon after sunrise another expedition was on its way to Cuba. All this may
be very immoral, but some who were on the expedition have told me that it