"You think, then, that the Japs have secret agents keeping track of us?" was Frank's next question.
The captain's reply was cut short by a loud crash. They all started up at the interruption. So intent had they been in their conversation that they had not noticed the Jap steward standing close behind them and his soft slippers had prevented them hearing his approach. The crash had been caused by a metal tray he had let drop. He now stood with as much vexation on his impassive countenance as it ever was possible for it to betray.
"What on earth are you doing, Oyama?" sharply questioned Captain
Hazzard.
"I was but about to inquire if the cap-it-an and the boys would not have some refreshments," rejoined the Jap.
"Not now, we are busy," replied Captain Hazzard, with what was for him some show of irritation. "Be off to your pantry now. I will ring if I want you."
With an obsequious bow the Jap withdrew; but if they could have seen his face as he turned into his small pantry, a cubby-hole for dishes and glasses, they would have noticed that it bore a most singular expression.
"It seems curious that while we were talking of Jap secret service men that your man should have been right behind us," commented Frank. "I don't know that I ought to ask such a question—but can you trust him?"
The captain laughed.
"Oh, implicitly," he said easily, "Oyama was with me in the Philippines, and has always been a model of all that a good servant should be."
Soon after this the conference broke up, the boys having promised to have their aeroplane on board early the next day. Frank explained that the machine was all ready and in shape for shipping and all that remained to do was to "knock it down," encase it in its boxes and get a wagon to haul it to the pier.