“Guff!” growled Dick. “Hear him talk—and all for effect.”
“You’re wrong, Dick,” said Bob. “The poor fellow means every word he says.”
“And he say dot it vas good to die for vone’s country!” murmured Carl. “I don’d agree mit dot. I vould radder lif for my gountry. A deadt hero don’t amoundt to nodding, but a live feller is aple to do t’ings vat count. Yah, id is pedder to lif for vone’s gountry as to die for id.”
“There’s a whole lot of sense in that, Mr. Pretzel,” said Glennie.
“T’ank you!” returned Carl, with mock politeness. “I know dot before you shpeak id oudt, Misder Glennie.”
The ensign looked at Carl in a disappointed way, for it must have been plain to him that he was not breaking the ice any, so far as Carl and Dick were concerned.
“You pretended to be Ah Sin just so you could get aboard this boat, and destroy it, didn’t you?” Glennie pursued, again focusing his attention on the prisoner.
“I am saying nothing,” was the reply in calm, even tones.
“Why did you and your companions make an attack on this boat?” put in Bob curiously.
There was no response.