The man looked sharply at Roy. “Then what did you do it for?” he demanded.
Roy was rather nonplused. “Why, why—there wasn’t anything else to do,” he stammered. “You lost your letter; nobody else saw you lose it; and so there wasn’t anything else to do.”
The stranger laughed uproariously. Roy felt almost hurt. His face must have betrayed the fact, for suddenly the stranger checked his laugh. “You’re a fine lad,” he said. “A fine lad. And it’s plain as the Woolworth Building that you don’t belong in this town.”
Roy was astonished. “I don’t,” he assented, “but how did you know it?”
Again the man burst into laughter. “Listen to that, Lieutenant,” he chuckled. “Listen to that.”
Then, turning to Roy, he said, “Where do you come from, lad? I see by your uniform that you’re a wireless man.”
Roy glowed with pride. “My home is in Pennsylvania,” he replied. “I’m the wireless man on the Confederated liner Lycoming.”
“The deuce you are!” said the man. “The deuce you are!” And his eyes fairly danced. Then he added, with a chuckle, “Have you met Captain Lansford yet?”
Roy’s sober expression was answer enough for the stranger. He burst into another hearty laugh. Then he said; “See here, lad. Don’t you pay any attention to Captain Lansford. His bark is worse than his bite. You do your duty and you’ll make good with him.”
“Do you know him?” asked Roy incredulously.