Speake took the wheel for a while, and the three chums were able to enjoy a quiet little talk together. While they were at it, the door of the prison room opened and Ysabel Sixty stepped out. Carl almost fell off his seat.
"Iss dot a shpook vat I see?" he mumbled, staring at the girl, "oder iss id Miss Sixdy, der peaudiful maiten vat I know so vell?"
"Don't be foolish, Carl," smiled Ysabel.
"Foolishness iss natural mit me—I vas porn dot vay. I see somepody on der teck oof der supmarine, ven ve first come glose, und I t'ought id looked like you in der face, aber dose poy's clothes make some greadt shanges. How id vas, anyhow?"
"Look here, Carl," said Matt, "did you borrow a guitar from a fellow at the hotel the night the submarine left Belize?"
Carl proceeded to work up quite a temper.
"You bed you!" he cried, "und vat you t'ink? Dot feller vas some shkinflinds. He make me pay six tollar for dot kiddar! Yah, so helup me! Vy, I ged him for two tollar by any shdore in der Unidet Shdates vat I know. Dot's right. Six tollar! Dot's vat he make me pay."
"What happened to the guitar?"
"Vell, I hit some pulltogs mit id ofter der headt, und dot kiddar vas proke in a lod oof bieces."
"How did you come to smash the guitar like that?"