"Won't talk, eh? Oh, well, then, perhaps we can find out a few things
without any very especial help from you."

Millard bent over, thrusting his hand into one after another of young
Benson's pockets. In so doing he brought to light the envelope in the
lad's inner coat pocket. 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!"