The commander did not pursue this line of inquiry, supposing, perhaps, that a mess boy would not be informed as to such matters, but he catechised Tom about everything else, foiled at every other question by the stolid answer, “I ain’t supposed to tell you.” And he could not frighten or browbeat or shake anything out of him.
At length, he desisted, summoned a subordinate and poured a torrent of German gibberish at him, the result of which was that Tom’s wet clothes were taken from him and he was ushered to one of the berths along the aisle, presumably there to wait until they dried.
He was sorry that they would not let him accompany his wet clothing aft where the engines were, but he was relieved to find that he was evidently not going to be thrown back into the ocean.
CHAPTER XXI
HE IS MADE A PRISONER AND MAKES A NEW FRIEND
It was just another German mistake in diplomacy or strategy or browbeatery, or whatever you may call it. Tom had been rescued for the information which he might give, and he gave none. It was not that he was so clever, either. A fellow like Frenchy could have squeezed a whole lot out of him without his realizing it, but Captain von Something-or-other didn’t know how to do it. And having failed, perhaps it was to his credit that he did not have Tom thrown back into the ocean.
Tom would have liked to know whether the boat was still awash or completely submerged. Above all, he was anxious to know what they intended to do with him. The fact that the boat did not pitch or roll at all made him think that it must be far below these surface disturbances, but he did not dare to ask.
When his clothes were returned to him he was given a piece of rye bread and a cup of coffee, which greatly refreshed him, and he lay in one of the bunks along the long aisle watching two of the Germans who were playing cribbage. Once the commander came through like a conductor and as he passed Tom he said, “Vell, you haf’ more room soon.”