pleasantly. "Murphy is my name."

Herr von Staden shook hands and in most excellent English, without the
slightest trace of a German accent, expressed his pleasure in the
meeting. The captain cast a glance of frank curiosity at the bag von
Staden carried and at the baggage the sailors had in tow. Von Staden
interpreted the glance and smiled.

"I have brought you your orders, Captain Murphy. They are contained
in this envelope;" and he handed a blank envelope to the captain.
"However, I happened to know that one of the orders is to provide a
berth for me. I'm to go with you as supercargo."

"I hadn't heard anything about such a possibility," Mike Murphy
replied, with just a shade of formality in his tones. He turned to the
first mate: "Mr. Schultz, will you be good enough to see to it that
Mr. von Staden's baggage is stowed in the owners' suite. Then tell the
steward to see that our guest's quarters are put in order. Mr. von
Staden, will you kindly step into my stateroom here while I read these
orders?"

Von Staden nodded. Entering the captain's room he sat down on the
settee and lighted a gold-tipped cigarette, while Murphy tore open the
envelope. It contained a cablegram reading as follows:

"Von Staden & Ulrich,--Pernambuco, Brazil,--Ornillo Montevideo.

"BLUESTAR."

The captain reached for his telegraphic-code book. When decoded the