undertaking.

It was unanimously agreed that the plan should be carried out in the
handsomest manner, and a subscription to that end was taken on the spot.
Several of the Centipedes hadn't a cent, excepting the one strung around
their necks; others, however, were richer. I chanced to have a dollar,
and it went into the cap quicker than lightning. When the club, in view
of my munificence, voted to name the guns Bailey's Battery I was prouder
than I have ever been since over anything.

The money thus raised, added to that already in the treasury, amounted
to nine dollars--a fortune in those days; but not more than we had use
for. This sum was divided into twelve parts, for it would not do for one
boy to buy all the powder, nor even for us all to make our purchases at
the same place. That would excite suspicion at any time, particularly at
a period so remote from the Fourth of July.

There were only three stores in town licensed to sell powder; that gave
each store four customers. Not to run the slightest risk of remark,
one boy bought his powder on Monday, the next boy on Tuesday, and so on
until the requisite quantity was in our possession. This we put into a
keg and carefully hid in a dry spot on the wharf.

Our next step was to finish cleaning the guns, which occupied two
afternoons, for several of the old sogers were in a very congested state
indeed. Having completed the task, we came upon a difficulty. To set
off the battery by daylight was out of the question; it must be done at
night; it must be done with fuses, for no doubt the neighbors would
turn out after the first two or three shots, and it would not pay to be
caught in the vicinity.

Who knew anything about fuses? Who could arrange it so the guns would go
off one after the other, with an interval of a minute or so between?

Theoretically we knew that a minute fuse lasted a minute; double the
quantity, two minutes; but practically we were at a stand-still. There
was but one person who could help us in this extremity--Sailor Ben. To
me was assigned the duty of obtaining what information I could from the
ex-gunner, it being left to my discretion whether or not to intrust him
with our secret.

So one evening I dropped into the cabin and artfully turned the
conversation to fuses in general, and then to particular fuses, but
without getting much out of the old boy, who was busy making a twine
hammock. Finally, I was forced to divulge the whole plot.

The