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Updated: May 15, 2025
The officer looked at him sharply and said, "Well, you'd better learn to keep your mouth shut. This is no place for amateurs and Boy Scouts to practice their games." "Y-yes, sir," said Tom, greatly frightened. The next morning, when the sea was quieter, they rowed his new boss over in a small boat. That was a good lesson for Tom and a practical demonstration of the wisdom of Mr. Conne's advice.
He was roused out of his abstraction by the fervid, jerky voice of Frenchy, talking about Alsace. Alsace was a part of Germany, whatever Frenchy might say.... Again Tom bethought him of Mr. Conne's very wise advice, and he went to the main saloon and posted the weather prediction. That same day something happened which shocked him and gave him an unpleasant feeling of loneliness. Mr.
Then there was signaling between the Montauk and her own neighbor destroyer about sailing formation in the danger zone. It was almost like A B C to Tom, but he remembered Mr. Conne's good advice and resolved not to concern himself with matters outside his own little sphere of duty. But a few days later he made a discovery which turned his thoughts again to Adolf Schmitt's cellar and to spies.
Tom knew that he was not being consulted. He had a feeling that his suggestion about breed marks and personal resemblances was not being taken seriously. He was glad that he had not put his foot too far in by telling of his other precious idea. But he was proud of Mr. Conne's companionable attitude toward him. He was proud to be the friend of such a man.
"And the expected or the unexpected has happened," he added, smiling, as he handed Mr. Conne's letter back to Tom. "It'll be all right, won't it?" Tom asked. "I suppose it will have to be, Tom," Mr. Burton said pleasantly. "That was our understanding, wasn't it?" "Yes, sir but I'm sorry kind of." "I'm sorry, kind of, too; but I suppose there's no help for it.
"Once a scout, always a scout," smiled Mr. Burton, using a phrase of which he was very fond and which Tom had learned from him; "and it wouldn't be Tom Slade if he didn't go about things in a way of his own, eh, Tom? Well, good luck to you." Tom went out and in his exuberance he showed Mr. Conne's letter to Margaret Ellison, who also worked in Temple Camp office.
For a moment he struggled, drawing a long breath in pitiful little gulps. If he had followed Mr. Conne's advice he would not be in this predicament. But where then might the great transport be? Who but he, captain's mess boy, had saved the ship and showed these people how the light "It makes me feel like " he began. "Can't I please can't I not be arrested please?" Neither man answered him.
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