“No, nothing but dust,” Max reported.
“Max! I’ve found them!” 99 cried.
Max leaped to his feet and rushed to her side. He peered into the suitcase that lay open on the floor.
“Empty as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard!” he said. “This just might be it, 99!”
“How can we be sure?”
“By feel. That’s the only way.”
Max reached a hand into the empty suitcase and squeezed.
But there was no response.
Max sighed. “No, 99, I’m afraid that’s not it. Until we find an empty suitcase that squeals, we’ll just have to keep looking.”
“Sorry, Max,” 99 said, closing the suitcase.
“It could happen to anybody.”
99 took another suitcase from the closet.
Max kneeled again and, this time, peered under the chest of drawers.
“Rorff!”
“Same old dust,” Max reported.
At that moment, another voice was heard-a challenging, gutteral, masculine voice.
“Vot you doink in mine staderoom?”
99 turned. Max looked up. Fang ducked under the bed.
A large, dark man with a long dark beard was standing in the doorway. The door was nowhere to be seen.
“Hi, there,” Max said cheerily, getting to his feet. “Dr. Zee, I presume.”
“Vot you doink in mine staderoom?” Dr. Zee repeated, a touch more belligerently.
Max’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I should have said, ‘Dr. X, I presume’,” he said. “That is your true identity, isn’t it, Doctor?”
“Vot you doink in mine staderoom?” the man persisted.
“That’s right, play it cool,” Max snapped. “But it won’t wash, Doctor. It so happens that we’re on to you. So, just hand over that formula, and, I might add, those half-dozen invisible guinea pigs, and let’s get this over with.”
The man glared at him. “Vot you doink in mine staderoom?”
“Pret-ty clever,” Max said. “Won’t give us anything but your name, rank and serial number, eh? It just so happens, however, that this case is not covered by the Geneva Convention. There are no rules in the game of espionage, Doctor. It’s every man for himself.”
“Rorff!”
“Dogs, too,” Max added. “And come out from under that bunk!”
The man tried once more. “Vot you doink in mine staderoom?”
“So, that’s your story, and you’re going to stick to it, eh? Well, Dr. X, we have ways…”
The man backed out of the doorway and disappeared.
“Max, shouldn’t we stop him?” 99 cried.
“Why? He’ll have to come back here eventually,” Max said. “He didn’t even take his toothbrush with him.”
“What shall we do now, Max?”
“Keep searching. Those invisible guinea pigs are here somewhere.”
“Rorff!” Fang barked, crawling out from under the bunk.
“Dust yourself off,” Max commanded.
“Max…” 99 said.
He turned to her. “Yes? What now?”
She pointed toward the doorway.
Max looked-and saw Dr. Zee (or Dr. X) and a steward standing in the opening.
“A-ha, went to get your confederate, eh?” Max said. “Well, it won’t do you any good. You’re still outnumbered. Three of us to two of you.”
Fang ducked under the bunk again.
“All right, let’s just say that it’s even-Steven,” Max said. “But that still gives us the edge. Because we’re the Good Guys.”
“Excuse me, sir,” the steward said. “I’m not sure what this is all about, but Dr. Zee, here, wants to know-”
“Vot you doink in mine staderoom?” Dr. Zee said, breaking in.
“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.
