The general public knew very little of Phil’s history. Only to Peter Walker had he confided the fact that, when a mere youth, he had come to this country from Ireland. He had been a “bound-man” in Pennsylvania years before the Revolution, but when the Continental army took the field, Phil Murphy had joined the patriot ranks and served through the war with credit. Then he became a wanderer in search of adventure, and, as he told Peter: “Bedad, I found plinty of it!” About the beginning of the century, he came to Boston, his only possessions being his beloved fife and a cheerful mind. He was getting old and unfitted for hard work, so he took to the road as a pedler and eventually found his way to Cape Cod where his little wares were in demand and where he established a route.
The people liked his pleasant ways and he was always welcome to their firesides, having no permanent home of his own.
Small of stature, with bright blue eyes and a dulcet brogue, Phil the Fifer, as he was commonly called, was still an active man notwithstanding his seventy years.
Late that night, long after the family had retired, Phil and Peter were engaged in discussing the feasibility of the mission to the “Spencer.”
As Peter had surmised, Phil was more than anxious to be of assistance to his good friends. There might be some difficulty in getting an interview with the prisoners, but he felt sure there would be no objection to his visiting the warship.
“It’s just like this, Masther Walker: the boys aboard the ship think old Phil is a kind of an omadhaun, as we call a simpleton in the old counthry. Captain Raggett has a fine crew of dacint min, an’ many the shillin’ they threw at the old pedler for his little goods. The officers is all gintiemin, an’ there’s only wan man aboard who behaves like an upstart of a fellow. He’s a master’s mate called Dunton. He thried some of his nasty ways on me, but I kep’ my timper, thank God!”
“Perhaps he may interfere with you again, Phil?”
“Well, Masther Walker, if he does it won’t upset me. You see, if I am to get this job done for you, it won’t do for me to lose my timper whatever cause I get, will it?”
“No, Phil, it won’t. I know we can trust you, old friend, and I am proud that I told the meeting so. Not that any person doubted you, but you know these are troubled times, Phil, and the enemy is upon us; so most of us don’t know which way to turn for help.”
“I know that well, sir, an’ it would ill become me to refuse to do a small favor for the frinds who have always been good to old Phil, even if my heart an’ soul wasn’t with the cause.”