"Suppose you 'heroes' pipe down there," came from the darkness just
then. "What do you think this is, a concert hall?"

"It's 'Cutlets,'" muttered "Stump." "He would like to make the ship a
funeral barge."

We sat in silence for a while, watching the retreating form of the
navigator passing forward; then Tom Le Valley, a zealous member of
Number Nine gun's crew, spoke up.

"Do you see those two lights twinkling over there about where the
'Dolphin' should be, fellows?" he asked.

Some one yawned and nodded.

"Reminds you of a story, eh?" asked "Bill," who was leaning against the
rail. "Well, come to think of it I remember a--"

"Several years ago I happened to be a patient in a hospital over in
Brooklyn," continued Tom. "I was almost well and about to leave the
place when a man in the upper ward--"

"I had a cousin once who used to travel a great deal," interrupted
"Bill," taking a seat on the deck with his back against a bitt. "One
time he happened to be in a small town just outside of Dublin, Ireland.
The inn was crowded and he had to take up his quarters with a family who
occasionally rented out rooms. A circus and menagerie was giving
exhibitions in the city, and one night the biggest monkey escaped from
its cage and skipped out. They instituted a search at once, but the