"Feel wholly comfortable?" mockingly inquired the foreign agent, when he saw the boy's eyes open.
"Not especially, thank you," mumbled the boy, dryly.
Jack had discovered, by this time, that he was lying on a wooden floor, very likely in the basement of the house. The room contained no furniture, beyond an old table. Daylight was excluded by wooden shutters fastened into place over the windows. On the table a single candle burned in a candlestick.
"Why didn't you bring along with you, Benson," sneered the long fellow, "the property of mine that you stole from me?"
It was plain, then, that the foreign agent remembered the submarine boy well.
"Why are you playing this fool trick on me?" counter-questioned Captain Jack. "You knew I didn't have the—the things with me. You could see that."
"I put you to this inconvenience," replied the foreign agent, "because I wanted to know a few things. In the first place, why are you bothering with me, or with my plans?"
Jack remained silent.
"Won't talk, eh? Oh, well, then, perhaps we can find out a few things without any very especial help from you."
Millard bent over, thrusting his hand into one after another of young Benson's pockets. In so doing he brought to light the envelope in the lad's inner coat pocket. Just an instant later, the wretch snatched the folded sheet from the envelope, spread the paper open and held it up to the light.