“Very good, von Bechtold; will you stand back a bit and not bother the corporal?”
Dave bent over to stir the charred, smoking heap of paper with his foot. But the job had been too thoroughly done. Not a scrap of white paper could be found in the heap.
“Of course you do not object to telling me what papers you succeeded in burning,” Darrin bantered.
Ober-Lieutenant von Bechtold smiled.
“You wouldn’t believe me, if I told you, so why tax your credulity?” came his answer.
“Perhaps you didn’t have time to destroy all your records,” Dave went on. “Under the circumstances I know you will pardon me for searching the boat.”
Thrusting aside a curtain, Dave entered a narrow passageway near the stern. Off this passageway were the doors of two sleeping cabins on either side. Dave opened the doors on one side and glanced in. Dan opened one on the other side, but the second door resisted his efforts.
“This locked cabin may contain whatever might be desired to conceal,” Dan hinted.
Turning quickly, Darrin saw that von Bechtold had followed. This the corporal had permitted, but he and a marine private had followed, to keep their eyes on the prisoner.
“If you have the key to this locked door, Captain, it will save us the trouble of smashing the door,” Dave warned. He had followed the usual custom in terming the ober-lieutenant a captain since he had an independent naval command.