“Yais: you know ze name of ze river and ports?”
“Yes; Amsterdam, Rotterdam,” began Vince. “Are we going to one of those places?”
“Aha! ve sall see. You no ask questions. Some day, if you are good boy and can be trust, you vill know everysings. Perhaps ve go into ze Scheldt, perhaps ve make for ze Texel and ze Zuyder Zee, perhaps ve go noveres. Now you know.”
He gave them a peculiar look and left them, and as the rain came on in a drifting drizzle the boys made this an excuse for going below.
“Mike,” said Vince, as soon as they were alone, “got a pencil?”
“No.”
“And there is neither pen nor ink.”
“Nor yet paper.”
“Then we’re floored there,” said Vince impatiently.
“What did you want to do?”