Allan determined to make a special trip to see and to photograph the Oregon, of which he was a great admirer, because “the bull-dog of the navy” seemed to embody so much of what was most American in the United States battle ships. When the Oregon and Iowa afterward came out of dry dock, and were ordered away to Manila, Allan and McConnell started off early one morning for Tompkinsville, Staten Island, off which town the war-ships were to anchor.
It happened, however, that the Iowa had not yet come into the bay, though the Brooklyn was there, and the boys recognized the graceful prow of the Gloucester, the plucky little converted yacht that had figured so prominently and creditably at the sinking of Cervera’s fleet.
It was the Oregon, however, that the boys most wished to see more of, and to photograph at close quarters.
The boatmen at Tompkinsville had been charging high prices since the fighting ships had anchored off shore, and the boys were a little discouraged in their first inquiries.
In the midst of their discouragement a sailorish-looking man on one of the docks asked them if they wanted a cheap boat. This was precisely what the boys did want, and they indicated the fact to the sailorish-looking man, who thereupon lifted his finger and motioned to the boys to follow him.
The boys followed their guide for some distance and finally reached a low-roofed shop where a man with a pipe was scraping an oar. This man had a dory, but he would not rent it unless he went with it. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he said, “I’ll row you around all the ships for a dollar.”
“No,” said Allan, “that’s too much.”
“The graceful prow of the Gloucester.”
“Too much!” cried the man who had a dory, “why, I have been getting a dollar and a half a trip. What did you expect to pay?”