continued round to his own state-room.

The envelope contained Michael J. Murphy's plan for campaign worked
out to the most minute detail, by reason of his absolute knowledge of
the customs aboard the ship. Mr. Reardon read the remarkable document
and sat lost in admiration; a twinkle leaped to his eyes and a
cunning, rather deadly little smile came sneaking round the corners of
his broad chin.

"Arrah, but 'tis a beautiful schame," he soliloquized. "Who but that
lad could have t'ought av it? An' here I've been shpendin' the past
two hours borrowin' trouble."

He read and reread the plan of attack, in order to familiarize himself
with the details; then he held a match to the document and destroyed
it. He considered a moment, and then performed a similar service to
his farewell letter to Mrs. Reardon, for the chief engineer of the
S.S. _Narcissus_, of San Francisco, had made up his mind not to
die--to-night!






CHAPTER XV