"There, old man, what do you think of that?"
Smith puffed vigorously at his pipe for a minute or so. His knitted eyebrows showed that he was deep in thought.
"Fishy; decidedly fishy," he remarked. "Stirling, you stand a chance of pulling off your scoop after all. It is fishy—very. The Diomeda, lying here in Delfzyl, is supposed to be at Bremen for repairs. The German destroyer S174 is supposed to be sent to tow her back. I wonder whether that vessel that is persistently hanging about off the entrance to the Dollart is S174?"
"We'll find out," said Stirling decisively. "Come along. Van Wyk will be able to tell us."
They found the old harbourmaster in his office.
"The number of that German destroyer?" he repeated. "I know not; but since you are curious I can find out. Come with me to the quay; the Maas has just returned. It is possible that Captain Jan will be able to tell us."
Captain Jan van Hoes, the skipper of the botter Maas, was sitting on the brightly painted skylight of his craft. A long pipe was in his mouth; his hands were deep in his voluminous pockets; his legs, encased in stiff baggy, trousers, were thrust out straight in front of him.
"Passed that German craft, aye, that I did," said the old skipper, without removing either his pipe or his hands. "Steaming south-south-west about four miles outside Rottumeroog. S174 was her number. Saw it through my glass as plainly as I can see the town-hall clock."
"Thank you for your information," said Stirling, offering the old fellow a gulden. Captain Jan looked at the coin, began to draw one hand from his pocket, and then slowly thrust it back again.
"I want no money for doing nothing, Mynheer," he said. "You are welcome to what I have told you."