Two only lie in this grave, Mr. Murphy and a lady who died of fever.
Murphy cast one despairing glance about him and slouched to his undoing.
Murphy fumbled with the strap, playing desperately for time.
Murphy, of Mullough; he's used to these things—I'll send over to him.
Look at the case of District-inspector Murphy, of Woodford, in this county.
Lossing, can you and Murphy hold me on your shoulders while I try that window?
Murphy we had left with Smug, and in charge of the party without.
Murphy appears to have perfectly reconciled his mind to the stroke of death.
Hello, Murphy, what have you been doing since the night that Mexican nearly killed me?
And, besides, all we know is that Gallant and Murphy were paid off.