“Well, of all the precious hypocrites,” gasped Bill under his breath.
“He takes the grand trophy,” breathed Jack, who had been told of the cleverly arranged story of his death that had been circulated.
“There is not a question but that he is drowned, I’m afraid,” came from Schultz the next minute. Then was heard the captain’s voice.
“Why, yes, gentlemen, there is,” he said; “in fact, there is every question for here he is!”
As if he had been an actor answering his “cue,” Jack stepped into the lighted doorway. At the sight of him, the two miscreants shrank back as if they had seen a ghost.
“Oh, I’m real enough, Messrs. Radwig and Schultz,” smiled Jack, as the others crowded in behind him.
“And it will be my duty to hand you both over to the British authorities,” snapped the captain to the speechless pair.
Radwig made a sudden dart for the valise full of documents. His move was so unexpected that before they could stop him he had hurled it out through the open porthole. Then, with a snarl of rage, he flung himself at Jack. But the captain’s erect figure interposed.
“Stand where you are,” he ordered, and Radwig found himself looking into the muzzle of a revolver.
“Hold out your hands,” he ordered and cringing, the two miscreants obeyed.