“A half million dollars!” gasped the admiral.

“If this steward is the man we think he is, then his right name is Arthur Miller,” finished the boatbuilder.

“Why, I remember that case.  I read of it in the newspapers,” replied Admiral Bentley.  “Jove, gentlemen, but I hope your guess is a correct one.  There must always be a satisfaction in catching so great a rogue so easily.”

Only those at the admiral’s end of the table had heard this dialogue.  Other guests present continued eating, or chatting with their neighbors.  Other stewards were entering and leaving in the discharge of their duties.

Some time passed.  Farnum was fidgeting, though he strove to conceal the fact.  Jack looked quiet, but his heart was thumping.

“Steward Dugan!” called the admiral, rather sharply, and the man stepped over quickly.

“I sent Hecht after that new steward,” declared the admiral.  “Hecht hasn’t come back.  Find him on the jump and learn his reason for the delay.”

In something like a minute more both Dugan and Hecht returned.

“I couldn’t find Dudley, sir,” reported Hecht.  “I’ve looked for him everywhere that he ought to be.”

“Then find the first officer on duty that you can, and, with my compliments, ask him to report instantly,” ordered Admiral Bentley.

In barely more than a jiffy a young lieutenant of marine stepped into the room, saluting the admiral.

“Lieutenant, a new steward known as Dudley is being sought for.  Order the guard at the side gangway to let no one overboard, unless he is certain that the one seeking to pass is not Steward Dudley.  Then have the ship searched thoroughly for Dudley.  When found, bring him just outside that door, under guard, and send in word to me.”

Again the lieutenant saluted, then hurried from the room.  The whole thing had been, ordered so quickly that few of the lunchers guessed that anything out of the ordinary was taking place.  Admiral Bentley took up knife and fork, turning his attention to a dish that had just been laid before him.

The marine lieutenant was soon back.

“I regret to report, admiral,” he murmured, in a low voice, “that the sentry at the side gangway states that Steward Dudley went over the side and started off in a shore boat at least five minutes ago.  He displayed a paper which he said was a telegram you had ordered sent in a rush.”

“Great Scott!” uttered Jacob Farnum, laying down knife and fork in a tremble.  “Then, by flight, the fellow confesses his identity.  Admiral, we feel that we simply must get ashore without the loss of an instant.  That rascal must be found.”

“Certainly,” agreed Admiral Bentley, rising.  “Do not lose an instant.”

Turning to the marine lieutenant, he added: 

“My compliments to the officer of the deck, and ask him to see that these gentlemen have a shore boat placed at their disposal without any loss of time.  Or, that they have any facilities they may wish for going to any part of the fleet.  No thanks, gentlemen.  I appreciate your need of haste and wish you every success.”