We still had the southern head wind which made it too hot for sleeping below, so I decided to bunk on deck, and went below for a blanket. Young Strong slept as though dead, even though the quarters were close and stuffy. I was glad to escape to the deck with my covering. As I laid down, expecting to doze off at once, I began to hear subdued voices. I heard some one say: "You know, we passed him this afternoon at three. He couldn't be over two hours behind us." At first I wasn't sure I was awake, for the voices were almost inaudible. I was sure I had slept some time.
"Did the wireless say all were taken off?"
I could now make out two officers talking near me, but they were unaware of my proximity. Then came the answer to the question:
"Yes; the report came from the shore station where the lifeboats landed, but if the subs are operating up there, we're probably safe."
Manifestly they referred to some ship that was torpedoed two or three hours behind us.
"That's all right, but you know well enough that mines have been sown here for the Chesapeake traffic."
"We're not due there yet, and it's a thousand-to-one shot that we'll get by. We've passed that spot many times. I believe that talk about mines is all bunk. Anyway, you know the Old Man changes his course at that point to keep the supposed mine field shoreward. Go to bed: you'll be bawled out quick enough if we hit anything."
Then all became quiet, but now thoroughly awakened, I went down to the galley to cajole some food from the cook. There, to my surprise, I found young Strong on the same errand.
"You had a good sleep?" was my greeting. I needn't have asked, for he looked rested and bright, even jaunty.
"Five hours; it's past one now. Where did you sleep?—I did not see you in your bunk." His voice sounded rather chummy, as the cook relented and helped us liberally. We told him we had both gone off watch without eating.