The Newtown bee., 1879-07-09
I was going down the cabin stairs, he walked briskly aft and called:

Captain Bryantn
 That's my name,' I said.
 "'Then you know what this means; ; and he took the broken needle from tic lappel of his coat. I told him | recog- nized it and asked him what could do. He said:
 "' If you have no objection, wish you would get clear of this dock at once. The sooner New York sees our heels the better Hi like it.
 "'Very we'll said; but I'd like to know some name to. call you by. I suppose you have one
 My name is William Hunt
 ''I had the watch called up and we cast off from the wharf. I singnaled 8 tug and was lowed out of the dock and | down to Governors Island. There the tug cast loose and we made sail. There was a brisk breeze going and we bowled along at good rate till we were about midway between Fort Hamilton and Murray & Norton's Coney Island wharf There Hunt told me to run as close into the beach as could and anchor.
 "1 obeyed. Hunt was perfectly cool and collected, as if he had the whole pro- gramme clearly made out. But he schooner eeeny Shmenf When the on anchor oG touched ground asked him five should furl tho sails. He said t
 "'No! much. Unless you want the trouble oi setting them again tonight
 "This time it was as dark as pitch. The men went to supper, and I took a snack on deck, as Hunt had said he might want me any minute. He sat on the taffrail, smoking one cigar after another, humming a tune, and looking toward the shore, without ever turning his head, even when he occasionally spoke to me. V m of 1,,t ho cabin, came on deck as soon as hefinished, and said it was eight bells (nine o'clock).
 He had hardly spoken when a bright light bashed out ashore. It looked like one of the flash lights made by burning resin, which we use to signal ships with at night. It only fiared out once Hunt jumped to the deck and threw his cigar overheard. l noticed that his voice trembled with excitement when he said, You and me will pull ashore by our selves.'
 |" got a boat into the water at once. Hunt and myself got in. 1 noticed that he rowed nervously, but like man who knew his business. We pulled straight for where the light had showed, and beached the boat just below Murray 6 Norton's wharf. There were three peo- pie there. One was Murray himself, an- other, young Mckay, the former owner of the Atwood. He had lantern, keep ing it partially under the wharf, as if to keep the light from being seen.
 "The third party was big, portly, middle-aged man, with a clean. shaved face. He wore a slouched hat, pulled down over his eyes, a rough blue woolen shirt, and dark pantaloons. He hadtno coat on. There were three handsome silver or nickel-mounted valises on the beach at his feet.
 Hunt landed and said something could not hear, sitting in the boat. Murray and Mckay shook hands with and wished them goodbye and pleas ant voyage. There was no other con- versation, but such as would pass be- tween parting friends. Mckay put the yalises in the boat, and Hunt and the other man got in. He sat in the stern, and was so heavy that he almost swamped the gig. When we pushed off Murray called to me:
 l ou know your orders, captain. Don't make any mistake
 @"' He won't if I know myself said Hunt, and we rowed off, leaving them watching us. The man in the stern never moved or said word after we started.
 As soon as we got on board Hunt and the other passenger went into the cabin. I ordered the anchor to be hove short and followed them. The middle aged man was sitting on the sofa, with his hat on yet, mopping his face with blue silk handkerchief, Hunt said, Cap tain, let me introduce you to Uncle John Secor.'
 "We shook hands, Uncle John say ing, without rising, Glad to meet you, captain, and taking his hat off. I knew him at glance, from his pictures in the papers. It was Bill Tweed.
 His face was thinner than the pie lures made it, and his beard was shaved close off, but there was no mistaking him. The sight sort of fabbergasted me, and I kept staring like booby. He noticed me looking so intently at him and stopped down, so as to hide his face while pretending to tie his shoes. He bled very much.
 "' hope you'll make yourself com fortable, Uncle John. Anyhow you're safe,' said, hardly knowing what I was saying anyhow.
 "Then went on deck The anchor wasn't apeak yet, and I set some of the crew to swaying up the sail, while I walked up and down, wondering what would happen next. They were at it when Hunt came out Of the cab1n. He was quite calm now, and smoking fresh cigar. Whats the matter. now?' he asked. T might as well tell you, Hunt said, that I know who Uncle John Secor is. Don't you think ought to have a stake out of thisp'
 Never fear he said, quite gayly, putting his hand on my shoulder. 'Ihe old man hasn't got much. He's been pretty well cleaned out, but we won't forget you. He's not one of that sort Now get to sea as quick as you can.'
 We were well out to sea by daylight. Tweed began to be seasick the minute we struck rough water. He was about the sickest man I ever saw. and was as helpless as a baby. There was some thing pitiable in the sight of him. He would lie in his berth with Hunt, who was as good sailor as he was an oars- man, holding his head over wash basin, and rafch and xyoy,, st for. h rY1,.o xr~x,tJ