"You have me at your mercy if you wish to sell me a lamp," he went on, with a smile and a shrug of his shoulders, not unlike that of Lieutenant Secor.
"Hasn't your friend a spare light?" asked Joe quickly.
"My friend?" repeated the German, as though surprised. "You mean——?"
"I mean Lieutenant Secor."
"Oh, him!" and again came the deprecatory shrug of the shoulders. "He is an acquaintance, not a friend. Besides, he has but one lamp, and he needs that. So, also, will you need yours. But as there are three of you together, I thought perhaps——"
"We each have a light," said Blake, interrupting the rather rapid talk of Labenstein. "In fact, I have two, and I'll let you take one."
"That is very kind of you. Ah, it is like mine!"
The visitor was watching Blake eagerly as he brought forth one of the flat, three-cell nickel-plated holders of tiny batteries, with the white-backed and tungsten-filamented incandescent light set in a depressed socket.
"Yes, this is the best type," Blake said. "You may have this."
"And the price?" asked Labenstein, as his hand quickly went into his pocket.