Just an instant later, the wretch snatched
the folded sheet from the envelope, spread the paper open and held
it up to the light.
"Ho-ho!" sneered the rascal, "an order authorizing you to cause my
arrest? This disposes of your case, then, young Mr. Benson!"
CHAPTER VII
A LESSON IN SECURITY AND INFORMATION
Despite the savageness of his utterance Millard continued to gaze
thoughtfully, for a few moments, at the submarine boy's face.
As the rascal gazed, however, a grayness came into his cheeks that,
somehow, smote Captain Jack with secret terror.
"I--I don't see how it can be helped," gasped Millard, at last, in an
altered tone that came as another dash of ice water over the submarine
boy. "Benson, I hate to do it. I'd hate to use a dog in such a way,
but--but there's no help for it!"
A long-drawn-out sigh, a still queerer look in his face, then the
scoundrel broke forth again:
"It's your own fault, after all, boy, and there's no help for it."
"By and by I suppose you'll enlighten me as to what 'it' means?" hinted
Jack, trying hard to bolster up a courage that, none the less, would
ooze and drop.
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