"'Just three years ago to-day I was on board the "Ada Gray," a small schooner off the coast of Florida, bound for the Isthmus. There were seven of us in all, including the captain and mate, the latter an old pal of mine who had arranged to get me in as one of the crew. In some way he had learned that the captain was to take with him some two thousand in gold, and although we had no plans, we intended to get the gold in some way. On our way down we had talked over many schemes, but none of them seemed satisfactory. The gold was kept in a small fireproof safe in the captain's cabin, but it was an old-fashioned key-lock affair, and we did not anticipate much trouble from that quarter, even if we could not find the key. The great point was, how we were to get the money and get away. At last we decided to drug the men's coffee, and when they were sleeping from its effects, we would take the money and leave in the schooner's yawl, in which, as the weather was very calm and the Florida coast could be seen in the distance, we should have no difficulty in making the shore. "'Jim had overhauled the medicine chest and had found a vial containing a lot of morphine pills marked one-eighth grain, and as neither he nor I knew how much morphine it took to drug a man, he watched his opportunity and emptied the contents of the vial into the coffee. "'After supper we kept on deck for some time waiting results. At last Jim went forward and reported everything quiet and the men apparently all asleep. We found the captain in his cabin lying on his bunk breathing heavily. The key to the safe was in the captain's pocket, and we opened it without difficulty. There were six rolls of twenty-dollar pieces marked two hundred dollars each, eight rolls of ten-dollar pieces, and a bag of silver. "'We took the money and some other things we found in the cabin, including a pair of revolvers, a double-barrelled shot-gun, and a rifle, and put them in the boat, together with a small keg of water, tinned meat, and a bag of ship biscuit. After these were carefully stowed away in the yawl, Jim went back to the cabin, while I busied myself arranging things in the boat. He soon came on deck again bringing several bottles of brandy, and coming to the side of the schooner reached them one by one to me over the side. As he handed me the last bottle I saw the burly form of our negro cook rise slowly out of the hatchway, rubbing his eyes as if half asleep. Jim saw my stare of surprise, and, turning quickly, faced the negro, who was looking at us with a dazed expression. He could not have drunk of the coffee, for I have since learned the amount of morphine Jim put in the pot was more than enough to kill the entire crew. "'Jim turned, and, walking slowly up to the man, said hoarsely: "Go down," at the same time pointing to the hatchway. "'"What for?" asked the negro, moving a step backward. "'"None of your business what for; go down, I tell you."