ach of the four men who rowed his
boat was more or less cut up. We slung a chair over the side and
carefully hauled him on board.

"As he came up to the starboard gangway the marine guard saluted and
he was received with all the honors of his rank. As he stepped toward
me he burst into tears, threw his hands up in the air, and then,
with a gesture of utter despair, but with all the grace of the pretty
gentleman, loosed his sword belt and pressing a fervent kiss on the
hilt of the weapon he extended it toward me. Every man on that ship
knew that that Spaniard was giving up something of value equal to
his life. I am not very good-natured, but I could not take that sword."

This met with loud cries of "You did right, Bob," and one lusty-lunged
individual announced that there was not a man in the country that
would take it. Captain Evans, who recognized the speaker, a friend
from the rural districts, answered: "Oh, you don't know what some of
those up-country Pennsylvanians would do. It was a pretty good sword."

Continuing, Captain Evans said: "I didn't know exactly what to do
with the Spanish Captain to get him into our sick bay. As I was about
to ask him of his wound he stepped toward the gangway and looked
shoreward. About a quarter of a mile off lay the once magnificent
vessel in which he had boasted he would tow the Brooklyn back to Spain.

"She was burning fore and aft, terrific columns of flame shooting
up around her, and suddenly, with a burst of tears, Captain Eulate
kissed his hand and bade fond farewell to the burning hulk and said
with impassioned voice, 'Adios Viscaya.' As he did this the very same
instant there came a tremendous roar and the Vizcaya's magazine blew
her superstructure hundreds of feet into the air. Had the incident
occurred that way on the stage anybody would have said it was too
well timed.

"He turned back and we got him into the ship's hospital, where the
surgeons placed him on his stomach to shave the hair around a small
cut on the back of his head. I stood alongside of him, and rolling his
eyes into the starboard corner he said to me, with a rather comical
expression, 'I think I have heard of you before.' I told him I did
not know how that could have been, and he asked: 'Did you not command
the Indiana?' 'Yes,' I said; then he said, shaking his head as well
as circumstances would permit, 'Yes, I have heard of you. You are
"Bob" Evans.'

"I have often wondered just what he referred