“Max,” 99 said, “do you know what I think?”
“Yes,” Max replied, “and I’m beginning to think the same thing.”
“That Dr. Zee is really Dr. Zee?”
“Yes, that just about sums it up.” He addressed the steward. “Steward, there’s been a slight mistake,” he said. “You see, my friends and I were looking for the, uh, main ballroom-we heard the music and it set our toes to tapping-and, inadvertently, we wandered into Dr. Zee’s stateroom.” He turned back to 99. “See? A logical, wholly-believable explanation will do it every time.”
“How do you explain the door?” the steward asked. “It looks like it’s been blown right off the hinges.”
“Rorff!” Fang barked from beneath the bunk.
“Yes, of course,” Max smiled. “There’s the explanation right there-we didn’t have a key.”
“Vot you doink in mine staderoom?” Dr. Zee asked again.
“Sorry-that’s classified information,” Max replied.
“I’ll have to take you to the Captain,” the steward said.
“Yes, I understand that-that’s your duty,” Max said. He gestured to 99. “Come along.” Then he bent down and called to Fang. “You, tool”
The three stepped out into the corridor, joining the steward.
Max frowned at the door, which had been leaned against the wall. He turned back to Dr. Zee. “Sorry about that,” he said.
“Vot you doink in mine staderoom?” Dr. Zee growled.
The steward led Max, 99 and Fang away.
As they moved along the corridor, Max fell in beside the steward. “This is going to be a lot of fuss and bother for you,” he said. He reached into a pocket and brought out a ten-dollar bill. “Couldn’t we settle it among ourselves?”
“I couldn’t accept a bribe, sir,” the steward replied.
“A bribe? Bribe? Of course not. I had no intention of bribing you.” He smiled slyly. “But, you could accept a little gift, couldn’t you?”
“I don’t think that would be improper,” the steward said, smiling slyly in return.
“Good, good.” Max pressed the ten-dollar bill into the steward’s hand. “We’ll call it a Christmas gift-and just say that Santa came a little early this year,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” the steward said. He stopped at a door. “Right in here, sir.”
“Where is this?” Max asked.
“The Captain’s quarters, sir.”
“Now, wait a minute-what about that bribe!”
The steward looked hurt. “But you said that was a gift, Santa.”
Max glared at him. “All right, steward. But just don’t be surprised next Christmas when you get lumps of coal in your stocking.”
The steward opened the door and ushered the trio inside.
The Captain, a large, rotund man, was seated at his desk. He looked up as they entered. His face was pinched in an expression of indecision. “Tell me again, steward,” he said, “which is left-port or starboard?”
“Port, sir.”
“Thanks.” He smiled at Max. “I can never get that straight,” he said. “And it’s important to know when you’re in command of a ship. We have rules of the road, you know-just like on land. We have to keep to the starboard. Except, of course, when making a port turn.” He got to his feet. “Now… what is it, steward?”
“I found these people-and this dog-looting another passenger’s stateroom, sir.”
“Oh… petty thieves, eh?” He nodded cordially. “Welcome aboard.”
Max stared at him blankly. “Welcome aboard?”
The Captain spoke to the steward. “That will be all,” he said. “I’ll handle this.”
The steward departed.
“Welcome aboard?” Max said again.
“Yes, of course,” the Captain replied.
“But the steward referred to us as looters. And you yourself called us petty thieves.”
The Captain shrugged. “Business is business. You paid your fare, didn’t you? As a matter of fact, most of our passengers are looters, petty thieves and card sharks. They’re on board to take advantage of the few passengers who aren’t in the trade-the rich tourists. But, if we depended on rich tourists, we’d go broke in a week. You looters, petty thieves and card sharks make up the bulk of our passenger list. We appreciate the patronage.”
“I see,” Max said dimly.
“However, there are limits to our appreciation,” the Captain went on. “If you get caught too often, I’m afraid I’ll have to get nasty about it. It’s bad for business.”
Max nodded. “Bad for business.”
“Yes. You see, if we catch too many looters, petty thieves and card sharks on board our reputation will suffer. Bad public relations. And that will chase away the rich tourists. And, if we don’t have a lot of rich tourists aboard, we’ll lose all the business we get from looters, petty thieves and card sharks. So… be careful. One hand washes the other, you know.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Max said foggily. “Let’s see… wash my hands…”
“You may go now,” the Captain said. “But stay out of the way of that nosy steward. He’s the conscientious type-no feel for public relations at all. Keeps bringing looters, petty thieves and card sharks in here, expecting me to do something about it.”
“Yes, he isn’t very likeable,” Max agreed.
“ No body likes him,” the Captain said. “Last Christmas, he got coal in his stocking.”
Max, 99 and Fang backed toward the door. “We’ll be careful,” Max promised.
“Oh… before you go,” the Captain said. “How does it go again? Starboard is left? Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s left-starboard is right,” Max replied.
“Thanks. I can never-”
Max closed the door.
“What now, Max?” 99 said.
“Back to looting-that is, searching-staterooms,” Max replied. “Who’s next on the list?”
“It’s getting a little late, Max. The staterooms will probably be occupied. I imagine the scientists are all in bed by now.”
“That’s a thought,” Max replied. “All right, we’ll knock off for the night, hit the sack ourselves, and get an early start in the morning. To paraphrase a wise old saying-it’s the early secret agent who catches the invisible guinea pig.”
They left the main deck and trudged wearily down the stairway toward C Deck. When they finally reached there, Max and Fang said good-night to 99, and she disappeared into her stateroom.
Max and Fang squeezed into their own room.
“Well, old buddy, who gets the top bunk and who gets the lower bunk?” Max said to Fang.
“Rorff”
“That sounds fair-we’ll flip for it.” He reached into a pocket and brought out a coin. “Call it, Fang.”
“Rorff!”
“Heads you win, tails I lose? Sorry, old buddy. You don’t expect me to fall for that old ruse, do you? I couldn’t possibly win that way. Now, which do you want-heads or tails?”
“Rorff!”
“Okay.”
Max tried to flip the coin. But there wasn’t space enough to maneuver. “Well, that’s out,” he said. “This stateroom isn’t even large enough to flip a coin in.”
“Rorff!”
Max brightened. “Yes, that’s a good way to settle the matter. Okay-first one into his jammies gets the bottom bunk. On your mark, get set-”
“Rorff!” Fang barked-from under the covers in the lower bunk.
“No fair” Max complained. “I hadn’t even got to ‘Go’ yet!”
“Rorff!”
Max sighed resignedly. “I guess you’re right. When you’re in a jammy race against an adversary whose overcoat serves as his business suit, bathing suit, tennis togs, tuxedo and jammies too-you can’t win!”
5
Early the next morning, Max, Fang and 99 met in the dining room for breakfast and to plan the day. After eating, Max and 99 had a second glass of milk, and Fang had a second bowl of coffee.
“That’s quite unusual,” the waiter said, placing the bowl of coffee in front of Fang.
“Yes, it is,” Max admitted. “Normally, he drinks it out of a cup. But, today, I asked him to have it in a bowl-like any other dog. We’re trying not to draw attention to ourselves.”
“That’ll do it,” the waiter said. “Who would pay any attention to a dog having his morning coffee out of a bowl?”