silent.

And all the rest of that night Tom Slade, whose hand had extinguished
the guiding light, perhaps, to some lurking submarine; who had had to
"think quick and all by himself," and had decided for his Uncle Sam
against his brother Bill, sat there upon the leather settee, feeling
guilty and ashamed. He knew that he had done right, but his generous
heart could not feel the black, shameless treason of his brother because
his own smaller treason stood in the way. He could not see the full
guilt of that wretched brother because he felt mean and contemptible
himself. Truly, the soldier had hit the nail on the head when he said,
"You're all right, Whitey!"

And now, suspected, shamed, sworn at and denounced, even now, as his
generous nature groped for some extenuation for this traitor whose
scheme he had discovered and exposed, he found it comforting to lay the
whole blame and responsibility upon the missing Adolf Schmitt.

"Anyway, he tempted you," he said, though he knew his brother would
neither listen nor respond. "Maybe you think I don't know that. He's
worse than anybody--he is."

_You're all right, Whitey!_

CHAPTER XVI

HE SEES A LITTLE AND HEARS MUCH

Toward morning, he fell asleep, and when he awoke the vibration of the
engines had ceased, and he heard outside the door of his prison a most
uproarious clatter which almost drowned the regular footfalls of the
soldier.

He had heard linotype machines in operation--which are not exactly what
you would call quiet; he had listened to the outlandish voice of a
suction-dredge and the tumultuous clamor of a threshing machine. But
this earsplitting clatter was like nothing he had ever heard before.

The door opened and he was thankful to see that the soldier outside was
not one of his particular friends. He was silently escorted to the wash
room, in the doorway of which the guard waited while Tom refreshed
himself after his sleepless night with a grateful bath.

The vessel, as he could see, was moored parallel with the abrupt brick
shore of a very narrow canal, with somber, uninviting houses close on
either hand. It was as if a ship were tied up along the curb of a
street. Up and down the gang planks and back and forth upon the deck
hurried men in blouses with great, clumsy wooden shoes upon their feet
and now Tom saw the cause of that earsplitting clatter; and he knew that
he had reached "over there."

Down on the brick street below the ship, a mu