“Then that was why she wanted to see you, was it?” asked Tom, “and why she slipped you that note at dinner-time?”
“Just what it is was. She said Mr. Potzfeldt had ordered her to keep trying to find out all about our mission to France. More than that, she was to manage in some way to turn the conversation when with you around to your father, whose name as an inventor is widely known. She was to ask questions about his work, and in every way possible try to discover whether it was in his interests you were not really heading for France.”
Tom was startled.
“Well, one thing good about it,” he hastened to say. “From now on we know where this Carl Potzfeldt stands. He may pose as a loyal American citizen, but deep down in his heart he is for the Kaiser. Whether he is a spy, as that Adolph Tuessig surely is, we can’t be positive; but I wouldn’t trust him a minute.”
“Tom, the girl was almost broken hearted. She isn’t the kind to fancy playing a double part, and deceiving other people. Any one must see her eyes are as frank and truthful as can be.”
“Did she tell you anything about her guardian, Jack—whether he might really be a naturalized citizen of Uncle Sam, or just sailing under false colors and a borrowed passport?”
“I wanted to ask her that, but say, I didn’t have the nerve, she seemed to feel so unhappy. Then, as if she couldn’t stand it any longer, she rushed away from me and descended to the other deck. When I followed she had disappeared from view, and I suppose had sought refuge in her stateroom, for she has one, you know, shared by that Red Cross nurse over yonder.”
“Now, I’ve got something to tell you that may be of interest,” remarked Tom, in turn. “You remember that we marked the stateroom occupied by that mysterious sick passenger who has never come on deck in the daytime since boarding the boat?”
“Yes,” Jack instantly snapped, “it was Number Seventy-seven, for I made a mental note of it. And a dozen times I’ve passed out of my way just to stare at the closed door, thinking how much I’d like to see what lay on the other side, and if that man could really be your Adolph Tuessig.”
“Well, a little while ago, after you left me to go up and walk the hurricane-deck with Bessie Gleason, I had occasion to go to our stateroom for my binoculars, and who should I see coming out of Number Seventy-seven but Potzfeldt!”