“I couldn’t,” said Dulcie. “I knew all the time that you are a prince.”
“Is it so?” said Red, his blue eyes dancing. “Well, ’twould have been a pity not to have been recognized by a lady in one’s own rank. And,” he added, “don’t think it strange that I have not lavished gifts on you like those others. Truth is, I’m havin’ some stars taken down, very careful, with some chunks of that Japanese moon, and set for your wearin’, in bracelets of platinum dug in the Urals. All of which takes time.”
David and Van Arden joined in the laugh. Red sauntered away, but an hour later he was back, a troubled look on his face.
“There’s no use trying to make better time,” he said gloomily. “Those engineers are doing their best, and so are the engines, but they have their limitations. Gosh, how I hate to disappoint the Big Fella!”
They sauntered back to David’s stateroom.
“I wish I had my accelerators. They are so simple that we might have had a set made in Tokio. I bet they would have speeded us up ten miles an hour.”
“I wish the plans were in a safe,” said Red uneasily. “Where are they now?”
“In that suitcase.”
“In that suitcase!” repeated Red loudly. “My Lord, anybody could lift ’em! And you’ve nothing on earth but my word to prove they are yours! It has taken two years to perfect them, and before you could reconstruct them, the other fellow could get the prize, or market them somehow. You are crazy to leave them there.”
“Don’t be such an old woman, Red! No one knows about them, and if they did, no one on this ship would take them. However, I wish we had a set installed. As the engines are now, we simply can’t make better speed. But with that friction removed and all the rest of it, there ought to be a great difference.”