CHAPTER VIII
PUZZLED
Whistler Morgan's three chums had by this time become somewhat interested in the bearded man, who called himself Blake and who worked in the laboratory of the Elmvale munition factory.
They were not at all as sure as Whistler seemed to be that the man was an alien enemy, and dangerous; for one reason they did not know all that Whistler had discovered up by the dam. It was only to Ensign MacMasters that their leader had told of the water wheel under the rock.
Frenchy began to grin when he saw how Whistler hesitated about entering the restaurant in Rivermouth.
"What's the matter? You so mad with that fellow that you won't eat at Yancey's because he does?" he asked.
"I'd like to get in there," said Whistler, "without attracting his attention and that of the man with him. I know he's the skipper of that oil boat."
"How are you going to do that?" demanded Torry. "They'll spot our blouses and caps in a minute."
"That's just it. Wish we didn't have 'em on," grumbled his friend.
"Good-night! We'd make a nice fumble, wouldn't we, if we didn't wear the uniform? What would it be—a month in the brig on hard tack and water?"