At sound of the captain's voice Kamanako wheeled calmly about, holding
up the gauge. The smile on the face of the Japanese was childlike and
bland.
"This very queer thing," he murmured. "What for you use
it--thermometer."
"No," retorted Jack Benson, frigidly, eyeing the detected one. "It's a
barometer, and it shows which way a meddler blows in!"
"I don't understand," remarked the Japanese, looking perplexed.
"Then I'll help you to understand. First of all, put that gauge down
on the table!"
Kamanako did so, then made a little bow.
"Now," continued Jack Benson, "take cap and go up on deck."
"What shall I do there, Captain?" asked Kamanako, politely.
"Well, you'll stand there until I see if you've done anything else on
board. If you haven't, you can then take a boat to the shore--and stay
there."
"What this mean, honorable Captain?" demanded Kamanako, a look of
offense beginning to creep into his little, brown face.
"Well, if you must have it," returned Benson, coldly, "it means that
I've found you spying into our mechanisms here. Now, a spy is a
creature no one cares to have about--least of all on a warship."
"You call me spy--call me ugly name like that?" cried Kamanako, showing
his teeth.
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