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"I say what I think about spies and fellows who would steal other men's secrets," retorted the young submarine captain. "You will hold tongue better, if you please," snapped Kamanako. "I? Hold my tongue for any scamp like you?" taunted Jack Benson. The taunt had the effect for which Jack wished. Kamanako, looking furious, dropped his dress suit case and ran angrily forward.
For the Japanese, wholly absorbed in his present task, had deftly removed the gauge from the midships submergence apparatus, and was now dissecting the gauge itself, eyeing the parts with the knowing look of an expert. At sound of the captain's voice Kamanako wheeled calmly about, holding up the gauge. The smile on the face of the Japanese was childlike and bland.
"Kamanako is my name, honorable sir," replied the Japanese, with three more bows. "Take a seat, won't you, Mr. Kamanako?" Mr. Farnum invited him again. "It is much better, honorable sir, that I stand." "Why?" "Because I am servant." "Not here, surely," replied the shipbuilder. "All the waiters here are negroes."
"Gunpowder and smoke!" ejaculated the carroty-topped boy. "It's little chocolate drop!" "Are you going up on deck quietly and in an orderly way?" demanded Benson, a resolute glitter in his clear, blue eyes. "I please myself," retorted Kamanako, defiantly. At that Jack Benson promptly forgot the warning he had given Eph, and sprang at the inquisitive steward. "You'll go " began Benson.
"That's a Japanese insult," grinned young Somers. "Do you think Kamanako understands it?" queried Hastings. "If he doesn't then what good does it do him to be Japanese?" Eph demanded. Jacob Farnum listened with great interest to what his young captain had to tell him. David Pollard, being still asleep, had no notion, as yet, of what had happened.
Williamson, the machinist, took in the whole scene instantly. Hardly a full step forward he took when his fist landed between the shoulders of Kamanako, sending that young Japanese through the air, to land sprawling. As Kamanako leaped to his feet he found himself blinking at the muzzle of a revolver that the machinist held in his right hand.
Packwood admitted them. "Step right into the next room," advised Mr. Packwood. "You'll find some one there you know." A the submarine folks entered the room they saw Trotter seated at a table on which were writing materials. At the other side of the table standing very erect, and in a very respectful pose, was the Japanese, Kamanako.
He was in error, though. It was he himself who "went." As he reached out with his right hand to seize Kamanako something happened. Exactly what it was the young submarine captain never quite knew. But he found himself sprawling under the seat at the opposite side of the cabin. "Hi, yi! Wow!" exploded Eph, darting down the stairs. "Save some of that for me!" It was ready and waiting.
Nadiboff," he sent back to her, "I trust you will never want for the most reliable friends." He turned down the veranda to go toward the office door, when he encountered another surprise. Leaning against one of the posts stood Kamanako, as natty and trim as though he had come from the tailor's. Looking up with a most friendly smile, the little Japanese saluted. "Why, how do you do?"
Dimly, down at the bottom, he could make out Kamanako, standing in slimy water that reached nearly up to his arm-pits. "Is the water fine, eh?" Jack called down, laughingly. "I show you some time!" came the answer, in smothered rage. "You showed me Japanese jiu-jitsu," mocked Benson "so I had to do something to return your courtesy. What I have just shown you is called American strategy!"
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