Dave spread it on the desk before him,
“Phelps, you read German better than I do, I believe.”
“I can make a stagger at it, sir.”
“Look this through and translate for me,” Darrin requested.
Slowly, and with a good deal of care, Phelps translated in these words:
“U. S. Destroyer ‘Logan.’ 8.15 P. M. (Date) Longitude ——; latitude ——. Course, west by southwest. Carries three times usual amount of ammunition. Speed, eight knots.”
The actual date was given; longitude and latitude were correct enough.
When Phelps had finished reading Dave Darrin leaned back in his chair, pain expressed in his face and eyes.
“A traitor on board! An American on this craft who has sold himself to the Huns! In the name of mercy how can such a thing be?”