Captain Carter banged the slide upon us. The chart room was insulated. The hum of the current was obvious. Johnson noticed it. He stared at the hostile faces of the surgeon and Balch. And he tried to bluster.
"What's this? Something wrong?"
Carter wasted no words. "We have information, Johnson, that there's some undercover plot aboard. I want to know what it is. Suppose you tell us."
The purser looked blank. "What do you mean? We've gamblers aboard, if that's—"
"To hell with that," growled Balch. "You had a secret interview with that Martian, Set Miko, and with George Prince!"
Johnson scowled from under his heavy brows, and then raised them in surprise. "Did I? You mean changing their money? I don't like your tone, Balch. I'm not your under-officer!"
"But you're under me!" roared the Captain. "By God, I'm master here!"
"Well, I'm not disputing that," said the purser mildly. "This fellow—"
"We're in no mood for argument," Dr. Frank cut in. "Clouding the issue...."
"I won't let it be clouded," the Captain exclaimed.