He drank to the future of Admiral Sir Richard Dunn, master of the _California_. THE SETTLEMENT WITH SHANGHAI SMITH. It is easy to understand that there was something more than a flutter in shipping circles in San Francisco, to say nothing of the sailors' boarding-houses, when a telegram reached that city from New York which was expanded as follows:-- "_THE LOST ADMIRAL._ "_Admiral Sir Richard Dunn, whose mysterious disappearance in San Francisco three months ago caused such great excitement, has arrived at New York in command of the ship _California_. He was, it appears, assaulted, and drugged, and put on board that vessel, and owing to a series of exciting incidents during the passage, finally took charge of her. The admiral is in good health. He states that he has no idea who was responsible for the outrage._" The bar-tender at Shanghai Smith's house was the first to spot this cable. He put his hand on the bar and vaulted it. "Say, Billy, see this." He shook up the runner who was taking a caulk on a hard bench, having been engaged between four and six in getting three drunken men on board the _Wanderer_. It is often easier to get a dozen amenable to reason than three, just as it is easier to handle many sheep than few. He was very tired and sulky. "Well, wo'd's up now?" he grunted. "Hell is up, and flamin'," said Tom. "You ain't forgot the admiral by any chance, now?" Billy woke as suddenly as if he had been sleeping on the look-out and had been found hard and fast by the mate. "Eh, what, has the _California_ turned up?" "You bet she has," said Tom. And he burst into laughter. "What d'ye reckon he was on board of her when she came to N' York?" "Cook's mate?" "No, captain, captain! Think of that. And he says he don't know who laid him out and put him aboard of her." Billy rose. "Here, gimme the paper. You're drunk." He read the telegram with protruding eyes. "By the holy frost, but he must be a dandy, Say, Smith must know this." He marched to Smith's bedroom and induced his boss to sit up and hear the news, after Smith had used more bad language with his eyes shut than most men in San Francisco could lay their tongues to when wide awake. "Don't I tell you it's about the admiral," expostulated Billy; "it's about Dunn, as you shoved on the _California_." But now Shanghai was wide awake. He looked at Billy with wicked eyes. "As _I_ shoved in the _California_, eh? Say that again and I'll get up and knock the corners off of you. You miserable Tarhead, if I hear you whisper that I had the last joint of the little finger of my left hand in the game, I'll murder you." Billy fell back from the bed in alarm. Though he looked big enough to have eaten Shanghai Smith, he lacked the "devil" which had made his boss what he was--the terror of the "coast" and of sailormen, and a political power in his quarter of the city. "Oh, very well then, Mr. Smith, but who done it?"