Plodkins lying at the bottom of the bath-tub. I gave a yell and a groan, and staggered backward. Then Plodkins laughed a feeble laugh.
"Now," he said, "I will go with you to your stateroom."
The laugh seemed to have braced up Plodkins like a glass of liquor would have done, and when we got to my stateroom he was able to tell me what had happened. As a sort of preface to his remarks, I would like to say a word or two about that bath tub. It was similar to bath-tubs on board other steamers; a great and very deep receptacle of solid marble. There were different nickel-plated taps for letting in hot or cold water, or fresh water or salt water as was desired; and the escape pipe instead of being at the end, as it is in most bath tubs, was in the center. It was the custom of the bath-room steward to fill it about half full of water at whatever temperature you desired. Then, placing a couple of towels on the rack, he would go and call the man whose hour it was to bathe.
Plodkins said: "When I went in there everything appeared as usual, except that the morning was very dark. I stood in the bath-tub, the water coming nearly to my knees, and reached up to turn on the electric light. The moment I touched the brass key I received a shock that simply paralyzed
