"I do. Stop it, at once, or we'll call it——"
"Ridiculous! What will you call it, sir?"
"Mutiny. The captain has so ordered—and arranged."
The inquirer drew breath, leaned forward on an elbow, and stared. The stare was returned. The senator began to smile. Hugh did not. The smile grew. Hugh's gaze was fixed. The smiler smiled yet more, but in vain. Abruptly he ha-haed.
"We'll call it that till you prove it's not," said Hugh.
"Did you ever hear of a poker face?" asked the senator.
"No, sir."
"You've got one, now; youngest I ever saw. I wish I had it—haw, haw! Where'd you find it? I doubt if ever in your life you've had any real contact with any real guile."
"I have," said Hugh, very quiet, very angry, yet with a joy of disclosure, communicative at last by sheer stress of so much kept unsaid. "And I've never got over it."
"Well, well! When was that?"