t the
wiring complete. We rigged up a pump and filled the bunkers till they
were topped off full. We guessed, out of hope and ignorance, that
there was enough in there to take us half a dozen times around the
world at normal cruising speed, and maybe there was. Anyway, it didn't
matter, for surely we had enough to take us anywhere we wanted to go,
and then there would be more.

We crossed our fingers, turned our ex-ferry-stoker loose, pushed a
button--

Smoke came out of the stacks.

The antique screws began to turn over. Astern, a sort of hump of muddy
water appeared. The _Queen_ quivered underfoot. The mooring hawsers
creaked and sang.

"Turn her off!" screamed Engdahl. "She's headed for Times Square!"

Well, that was an exaggeration, but not much of one; and there wasn't
any sense in stirring up the bottom mud. I pushed buttons and the
screws stopped. I pushed another button, and the big engines quietly
shut themselves off, and in a few moments the stacks stopped puffing
their black smoke.

The ship was alive.

Solemnly Engdahl and I shook hands. We had the thing licked. All, that
is, except for the one small problem of Arthur.

* * * * *

The thing about Arthur was they had put him to work.

It was in the power station, just as Amy had said, and Arthur didn't
like it. The fact that he didn't like it was a splendid reason for
staying away from there, but I let my kind heart overrule my good
sense and paid him a visit.

It was way over on the East Side, miles and miles from any civilized
area. I borrowed Amy's MG, and borrowed Amy to go with it, and the two
of us packed a picnic lunch and set out. There were reports of deer on
Avenue A, so I brought a rifle, but we never saw one; and if you want
my opinion, those reports were nothing but wishful thinking. I mean if
people couldn't survive, how could deer?

We finally threaded our way through the clogged streets and parked in
front of the power station.

"There's supposed to be a guard," Amy said doubtfully.

I looked. I looked pretty carefully, because if there was a guard, I
wanted to see him. The Major's orders were that vital defense
installations--such as the power station, the PX and his own barracks
building--were to be guarded against trespassers on a shoot-on-sight
basis and I wanted to make sure that the guard knew we were privileged
persons, with passes signed by the Major's own hand. But we couldn't
find hi