"But this man may not be a subject of the Kaiser," said Blake.
"Sure he is!" declared Charlie. "He's no more a real Jew than I am! He's a Teuton! Germany has no love for the Jews, and they don't have any use for the Huns. Take my word for it, fellows, there's something wrong going on here."
"It may be," admitted Blake; "but does it concern us?"
"Of course it does!" declared Joe. "This Frenchman may be betraying some of Uncle Sam's secrets to the enemy—not only our enemy, but the enemy of his own country."
"Yes, I suppose there are traitorous Frenchmen," said Blake slowly, "but they are mighty few."
"But this means something!" declared Macaroni.
And Blake, slow as he was sometimes in forming an opinion, could not but agree with him.
In silence the boys watched the two men at their queer conference. The tilted mirrors—one in each stateroom—gave a perfect view of what went on between the Frenchman and the German, as the boys preferred to think Labenstein, but the watchers themselves were not observed. This they could make sure of, for several times one or the other of the men across the corridor looked up, and full into the mirror on their own wall, but they gave no indication of observing anything out of the ordinary.
The mirrors were fastened in a tilted position to prevent them from swinging as the ship rolled, and as they did not sway there was an unchanged view to be had.
"I wonder what they're saying," observed Blake.