having told this much. It was not his nature to speak about himself,
especially to a stranger, and he was determined to say nothing about
the medals he had received for conspicuous bravery, and which he
carried in his breast pocket.

"Do you smoke?" he suddenly asked.

"Yes; an old hand at it. Good fer the nerves."

"Well, suppose we go and have a smoke now. I am just in the mood for
one myself."

Together they made their way to the smoking-room, which was situated
well aft. It was partly filled with men, smoking, chatting, and
playing cards. The air was dense with various brands of tobacco,
making it impossible to see clearly across the room. No one paid any
heed to the two as they entered, sat down in one corner of the room,
filled and lighted their pipes. Reynolds noted that his companion
became suddenly silent, and seemed to be deeply interested in four men
playing cards at a small table a short distance from where they were
sitting.

"Do you play?" Reynolds asked, thinking that the old man might be fond
of cards.

"No," was the brief and absent-minded reply.

Reynolds said no more, but watched the four men. His attention was
chiefly centered upon one who was facing him, and who was doing most of
the talking. He was a young man, with a dark moustache and black curly