"Certainly."

Finally the young man found himself in the park, heading quickly toward
the gates. He searched the night keenly, but this time he neither
heard nor saw any one. Then he permitted his fancy to take short
flights. Interesting situation! To find himself a guest here, when he
had come keyed up for something strenuous! Pirates and jolly-rogers
and mysterious trespassers and silent bells, to say nothing of a
beautiful young woman with a leaning toward adventure! But the most
surprising turn was yet to come.

In the office of Swan's hotel the landlord sat snoozing peacefully
behind the desk. There was only one customer. He was a gray-haired,
ruddy-visaged old salt in white duck--at this time of year!--and a blue
sack-coat dotted with shining brass buttons, the whole five-foot-four
topped by a gold-braided officer's cap. He was drinking what is
jocularly called a "schooner" of beer, and finishing this he lurched
from the room with a rolling, hiccoughing gait, due entirely to a
wooden peg which extended from his right knee down to a highly polished
brass ferrule.

Fitzgerald awakened the landlord and gave him the admiral's note.

"You will be sure and give this to the gentleman in the morning?"

"Certainly, sir. Mr. Karl Breitmann," reading the superscription
aloud. "Yes, sir; first thing in the morning."