Agilely a fair-haired unter-leutnant boarded the smack, followed by three of his men. Giving a cursory glance at the fish-well, he said something in German to one of the seamen. In less than a minute the night's haul had been transferred to the captor.
"Low-down robbers!" muttered Old Garge under his breath, but the unter-leutnant caught the imprecation.
"Have a care," he said sternly, "or we sink your boat. What these men? You carry a large crew for a little ship, Captain."
"They are my men," declared Old Garge loyally.
"Perhaps," drawled the German, then, suddenly turning, he strode up to Sefton and his brother.
"Hold your hand out!" he ordered.
Leslie sniggered. In his opinion the uniformed Hun ought to have added the words "Naughty boy". The lad was enjoying the novel experience. His one regret was that George Crosthwaite was not present to share in the adventure.
Critically the unter-leutnant examined Jack's extended hand. In spite of the fact that it was discoloured with tar, and reeked of fish, the sub's hand showed that it belonged to a person not of the ordinary working class. The long, tapering fingers, manicured nails, and absence of horny protuberances on the palm "gave him away".
"What is your name?" demanded the German.
"Smith," replied Sefton promptly.