“Well, I must say I——”
“Don’t go any further,” interrupted the angry young wireless boy, “and now ‘Mr. Johnson,’ or Herr Radwig, I’ll ask you to leave.”
Radwig looked for a moment as if he was about to choke. His face turned purple and his hands clenched and unclenched nervously. The sweat stood out in tiny beads on his forehead.
“What do you mean——?” he began.
Jack leaned forward and looked at him significantly.
“Just this, Herr Professor, that in spite of that fake beard and your dyed mustache, I know you. Your reason for being disguised and going under a false name is no business of mine now. See that you don’t make it so.”
“You—you——” sputtered the man who was startled in the extreme.
“And furthermore,” continued Jack, “we are likely to run across some more British ships. If you annoy me any more, I shall point you out for what you are. That will be all. Now go.”
Utterly bereft of words, Radwig turned heavily and half fell out of the cabin. He collided with Bill Raynor, who was just coming in. He fairly snarled at Jack’s chum, who airily remarked:
“Don’t slam the door when you’re going out!”