Sandy nodded. He knew that he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t help himself. He was not fond of Captain West.
The skipper’s eyes flashed and his face reddened and his hand came up involuntarily. But he held it back, and snarled, “When I ask a question, I want it answered out loud! And when you talk to me, you say ’Sir.’ Now, answer my question.”
“Yes, sir,” Sandy said evenly. “You saw us in front of my father’s testing station.”
“Your father’s testing—” Captain West began to repeat, puzzled. But then his face cleared, and he said, “So that’s it! Certainly, your name’s Steele, too.” Now, a look of cunning crept into his face. He softened his voice. “Young fellow, perhaps I was a bit hard on you last night. Step over here to the rail for a moment. I want to ask you a few questions.”
Sandy followed him.
“Well, well, well,” Captain West said, pretending to be jovial. “You certainly are a chip off the old block.”
Sandy flushed, and the skipper mistook it for a sign of pleasure. Actually, Sandy was disgusted by the man’s attempt to fool him.
“Now, my boy,” Captain West went on. “When did you see your old, ahem, see your father last?”
“Just before we came aboard,” Sandy said stiffly.
“Hmmm. Your father didn’t, ah, that is to say, did your father say anything about—”