With that Bob jerked the hat and queue out of the locker and hurled them across the room.
As he was about to return to the locker again and go on with his rummaging, Bob caught a gleam in the prisoner’s eyes that caused him to straighten up and watch Tolo more carefully.
Tolo’s gaze was on the hat. For once he was betrayed out of his grim passiveness, and there flamed in his eyes something unusual—and significant to Bob, who studied Tolo’s face keenly. The Jap’s eyes continued to rest on the hat until he saw that Bob was watching him; then the eyes turned away absently and lost their telltale gleam.
“Vat’s der madder mit der feller?” muttered Carl. “He seemed to vake oop, for a minid, und now he is like he alvays is. Vat ails him?”
“Queer he took on that sort of look, all of a sudden,” mused Glennie.
“Probably he t’ought of somet’ing mit a bomb in id,” suggested Carl. “I move ve tie somet’ing heafy aboudt his neck und make him shvim agross der Amazon. Hey?”
No one seconded Carl’s suggestion. Bob rose, walked over to the hat and queue, and picked them up. Tolo paid no attention, or did not seem to.
With the old slouch hat in his hand Bob sat down on a stool and began feeling of the crown with his fingers.
“Vat’s dot for?” chirped Carl.