The Submarine Boys for the Flag | Page 6

your eyesight to poor advantage, then," Hal answered.
"What do you mean?"
"Why, I mean, Professor, that you can't possibly persuade us to go to Germany and tell your people anything that we know about the Pollard submarine boats, or any other type."
"But you shall be well paid!"
"Professor, what would be your price for selling out your country to the United States?" asked Hal, gazing fixedly at the German.
"You insult me!" cried the German, his face growing red. "I am a patriot."
"Yet, you insult us by thinking that we would sell our country," went on Hal, coolly.
"Are you two going to be as big fools as your captain?" demanded Herr Professor Radberg, almost incredulously.
"Bigger!" promised Eph, with a grin.
"Ach! Well, we shall talk this all over when you come to the hotel in an hour," replied the German. He turned and left the store.
"Now, I don't doubt," mocked Hal, "he has gone away firm in the belief that we'll keep his appointment."
"He'll wake up after a while," laughed Eph Somers.
After indulging in a second ice cream soda the submarine boys started down the street toward the Farnum shipyard where the Pollard boats were built.
As they passed a street corner they heard a cautious:
"Hss--sst!"
"Now, who threw that our way?" demanded the irrepressible Eph, turning swiftly. Then he added, in a tone so low that only his comrades could hear:
"Say, fellows, I'll bet that cost something!"
"That" was, a rather undersized little man, of perhaps thirty. Dark of hair, and sparkling of eye, the stranger's rather pallid face was partly covered, in front, by a short goatee, of the French "imperial" sort, and a moustache whose points were waxed out in fierce military fashion.
It was the stranger's apparel that had attracted Eph's notice particularly. The stranger was arrayed almost exquisite fashion; his clothes were of finest texture and latest Parisian type. His little, pointed shoes were almost as dainty as a girl's. Though the day was warm the stranger was gloved, and handled a cane in the head of which a handsome amethyst shone.
"I wonder how that got through the custom house?" was Eph Somers's next undertoned question.
"Ah, good morning, gentlemen," greeted the stranger, coming toward them, all smiles and bows. "Av I have not med ze mistake, zen I am address ze torpedo boys."
"Right-o," drawled Eph. "Regular human torpedoes, as touchy as gun-cotton. Why, I am due to explode this moment!"
Though the stranger looked puzzled at first, his face rapidly broke into a cordial smile.
"Oh, ah! I understand. You mek what is call ze American joke, eh? You have little fun wiz me."
The Frenchman, for that he unmistakably was, laughed in the utmost good humor. The boys found themselves much inclined to like this stranger.
"Now, young gentlemen," continued the Frenchman, "I am ze Chevalier Gari d'Ouray."
"Glad to meet you, Chev," volunteered Eph, with suspicious amiability, holding out his hand, which the Frenchman took daintily. "I'm a 'shoveleer' myself, and this awkward, gawky looking boy with me is our engineer."
Eph had a tight grip on the stranger's hand, by this time, and was surely making it interesting for the Frenchman. The Chevalier d'Ouray was doing his best to retain his politeness, but Somers's hearty grip hurt the foreigner's soft little hand.
"What can we do for you, Chev?" demanded Eph, holding to the Frenchman's hand so persistently that Hastings gave his friend a sharp nudge in the back.
"Let us go somewhere," urged the Frenchman. "Some place were we can sit down and have ze talk about important matters. I have ze message for you zat I cannot deliver upon ze street."
"Now, don't say, please," begged Eph, "that you have heard we are wanted in the French Navy."
The Chevalier d'Ouray looked intensely astonished.
"Parbleu! You are one marvel!" gasped the Frenchman. "You read my most secret thought. But yes! You have made ze one right guess. However, I cannot more say upon ze street. Let us go somewhere."
"All right," nodded Eph. "You go along, now, and we'll be along in an hour."
"Wiz pleasure," nodded the chevalier, eagerly. "But we're shall I go?"
"Anywhere you like," suggested Eph, cordially.
"But, zen, how will you know w'ere I am to be found?"
"Oh, we'll take a chance on that," proposed Eph, carelessly.
"But, unless I am able to say, now, w'ere I shall be--" the Frenchman started to argue.
"We'll guess the meeting place as well as we did your errand," proposed Eph.
"Ten thousan' thanks!" cried, the chevalier. "Yet, for fear we mek ze one mistek, suppose I say--"
Eph Somers had struck such a streak of "guying" nonsense that Jack Benson felt called upon to interpose, for he and Hal both liked the twinkling eyes and good-humored face of this dandified little Frenchman.
"Pardon me, sir," Jack accordingly broke in, "but, if we happened to guess your errand, it was because we have just gotten away