“I suppose you’ll be glad when this voyage is finished,” he said. “It hasn’t been full of fun all the time.”
“No, it hasn’t,” replied Gunseyt cheerfully. “But I don’t mind, now that the hardships are over. It’s been an experience I’ll never forget. And among the things I won’t forget is the manner in which I was treated on the iceberg.”
Guy did not wish to discuss this affair; so he merely remarked that it was “unfortunate” and continued:
“I’ve got a question to ask you, Mr. Gunseyt, and I hope you won’t think it impertinent. It’s caused a good deal of talk and we’re all curious to know what the answer is.”
“Fire away,” roared the other with comical explosiveness. “I don’t know of any question I’m afraid to hear, but I may not answer this one. I’ll either answer it or tell you it’s none of your business.” The last sentence was finished with a spasmodic high pitch that sounded uncanny to the boy, who returned:
“It isn’t any of my business. I come only as a curiosity seeker.”
“That’s fair enough. I like frank people. What’s your question?”
“What caused the change in your voice?”
“Oh, is that all?” laughed Gunseyt. “I’m glad it’s so easy to answer. It’s caused by an alteration of the acoustics of my mouth.”
Guy stared at the man with a puzzled look. He was uncertain whether the fellow was making fun of him.