Are you such an infant as to think yourself
the only spy in the field?"

"You would have to tell me about the others. Name them, or describe
them to me," urged the Frenchman. "Then I would know, if they are real
agents of any foreign government."

"I would tell you nothing of the sort," muttered Captain Jack. "I am
young, perhaps, yet I'm old enough to keep my own secrets."

"Then it is agreed, anyway," hastened on the Frenchman, "that, in three
days, you will have ready the plans and descriptions, and that I, after
I have looked them over and have found them satisfactory, will hand you
ten thousand dollars."

"If you've made any such agreement," laughed Benson, "then you've made
it with yourself only. You certainly haven't made it with me."

"Don't you agree, then?" asked M. Lemaire.

"No," said Jack, shortly, turning on his heel.

"Where are you going, Captain?"

"Back to Spruce Beach."

"On foot?"

"Yes, for I know your kind too well to suppose that you'll offer me a
ride back."

"Wait!" cried M. Lemaire, persuasively, and Benson, halted, looking at
him. "Of course I cannot offer you a lift back to town," continued
the Frenchman, smilingly, "for that would be ungallant. But Mlle.
Nadiboff, who had the pleasure of your company out here will, I know,
be most delighted at having your company on the return."

"Assuredly," added the young Russian woman, with one of those charming
smiles that had failed so utterly with the submarine boy. "I shall
feel most offended if Captain Benson does penance by walking all the
miles back to Spruce Beach."

"I'd be a fool, then, to take that long walk back, when I can ride,"
thought Captain Jack.

So he turned, retracing his steps and bowing to the young woman.

"Yet, before we start," proposed M. Lemaire, anxiously, "let us see,
Captain, if we cannot yet come to some arrangement."

"Well?" demanded Jack, for boyish curiosity tempted him to find how
far this Frenchman was willing to go.

"Captain Benson," proposed Lemaire, "let us say that the price for what
I ask shall be fifteen thousand dollars."

"You're not getting anywhere near my price, M. lemaire," laughed the
submarine boy, derisively.

"You are playing with me--laughing at me!" cried the Frenchman, yet he
spoke cheerily, for now he began to hope that this American boy might
yet be induced to sell himself, body, soul and honor.

"We may as well drop this line of talk," hinted Jack Benson. "You