Dudley Simms, who is
just appearin' from his stateroom, all dolled up complete in white
flannels.
"By Jove!" he sings out. "If it isn't Folly. How are you, old man?"
The lieutenant commander swings around with a pleased look.
"Why--er--that you, Dud, old chap? Say, what are you these days?
Blockade runner, smuggler, or what?"
"You're warm, Folly, you're warm!" says Dudley. "Hunting for buried
treasure, that's our game--pirate gold--all that sort of thing."
And say, in less than two shakes he's given the whole snap away, in
spite of Old Hickory scowlin' and Auntie glarin' like she meant to
murder him with her grapefruit spoon.
But the news don't seem to impress Lieutenant Commander Faulhaber very
serious.
"Not really?" says he, chucklin'. "Oh? Then that's the reason for all
this mystery? Treasure hunting! Well, well!" And he grins more
expansive than ever as he takes another look around.
Next he's introduced proper to everybody, and inside of ten minutes
we're all sitting down to breakfast together, while J. Dudley explains
how him and Folly has been lifelong chums.
So we didn't get pinched, after all.
"Although," says the lieutenant commander, as he starts back towards
the _Petrel_, "I suppose I ought to fine you for exceeding the speed
limit.
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