"As far as I can make it out this is the translation: 'Cancel instructions sink; message too late; aboard _Hispaniola_.'" "And the lily-livered little skunk wanted to get orf and save his own 'ide! But 'e was quite ready to let the rest of us go to 'ell! There are twenty women and four children aboard, too; and we're guaranteed by the German Government! It would serve 'im right if we made 'im walk the plank, like they used to do. But drowning's too good for 'im. If we put 'im in irons 'e'll know we're on the watch, and that'll ease 'is mind too much. I know what to do with 'im when we get 'im on the other side. But in the meantime we'll give that little bit of sauerkraut a taste of 'is own medicine. 'Ere's the idea: We've got enough of the code to work it. We'll give him another radiogram to take to bed with 'im to-night. 'Ow's this? Steward, get me one of them yellow telegraph forms and one of the proper envelopes. We'll fix it all up in good shape. And, look 'ere, steward; not a word about this to any one, you understand?" The steward departed on his errand. Captain Abbey took another sheet of paper and laboriously, with tongue outthrust, constructed a sentence, consulting the purser's two columns from time to time, and occasionally chuckling as he altered or added a word. The purser slapped his thighs with delight as he followed the work over the captain's shoulder; and when the form arrived he wrote out the captain's composition in a very large, clear hand, with the fervor of a man announcing good news. Then he licked the flap of the yellow envelope, closed it, addressed it and handed it to the steward. "Give this wireless message to Mr. Neilsen in half an hour. Tell him it has just arrived. If there is any reply to-night he must send it before twelve o'clock." "I 'ope that will make 'im sit up and think," said Captain Abbey. "I'll consider what steps I'd better take to save the ship; and then I shall probably 'ave a wireless or two of my own to send elsewhere." Mr. Neilsen was greatly excited when the steward knocked at his door and handed him the second wireless message. He opened it with trembling fingers and read: _Still more successful. Uncle Hyacinth's tonsils removed. Appetite now colossal. Bless him. Taking large quantities frozen meat._ He could hardly wait to translate it. He sat down on his suitcase again, and spelled it out with the help of his Number Six, word by word, refusing to believe his eyes, refusing even to read it as a consecutive sentence till the bottom of the two parallel columns had been reached, thus: _Still_ _Impossible_ _More_ _Total_ _Successful_ _Destruction_ _Uncle Hyacinth's_ _Hispaniola_ _Tonsils_ _Von Tirpitz_ _Removed_ _Advises_ _Appetite_ _Essential_ _Now_ _Squadron_ _Colossal_ _Twenty_