“You’re lying!� snapped Fay.
“I’m not, pal. I wouldn’t lie to you. Cocky has the glasses.�
“What’s the trick? How do you read the cards with them?�
The sharper hesitated. He was on the point of speaking when a third shot echoed through the fog. A solid projectile screeched over the white boats on the hurricane-deck of the ship. A shudder passed from stem to stern. The great vessel had reversed its propeller. Saidee leaned aft and Fay was thrown against the side of the cabin. Shouting and the hoarse orders of the mates resounded. The fog was ripped in one place to port. Through the gap the fine prow and the belching funnels of a British destroyer of the superclass leaped. She bore down and rounded the ship’s bow like a skater on ice. Four flags were flung to her bridge signal-halliards. A callow lieutenant-commander in oil-skins and a sou’wester held a battered speaking-trumpet to his beardless lips. Beside him stood a man in a plaid overcoat and cap.
The ship came to a stop with a popping of safety-valves and steam pluming from the pipe aft her funnel. The captain leaned from the ledge of the wheel-house, grasped a stay, and shouted to the lieutenant who had skillfully maneuvered the destroyer to a point on the port waist after rounding the ship’s stern.
“What do you want?� rolled over the waves.
The lieutenant lowered his speaking-trumpet and turned to the man in the plaid overcoat. They both were bathed in the yellow light which streamed from the actinic fog-projector mounted on top of the pilot-house of the ship.
The commander of the destroyer turned, wiped the dripping end of his trumpet with a bare palm, and shouted:
“We want two of your passengers. You got our wireless? We had hell—finding you. You know the two?â€�
“The woman is here!� hoarsely boomed the captain. “We can’t find the man, yet.�