"We may as well drop this line of talk," hinted Jack Benson. "You were
good enough to offer me a ride back to town, I believe?"

"Yet the price? Let us settle that first," begged the Frenchman.
"Captain Benson, I will make you one more offer--but it must be the
last. Listen!"

Yet that word was followed by three or four utterly mysterious words,
uttered in a low voice in Arabic.

"Yes," nodded Mlle. Nadiboff, as Jack glanced from one to the other,
"but this must be the last offer."

"The last, the only, the highest offer," muttered Gaston, who had
recovered from the blow Captain Jack had given him.

"Well, then, Captain Benson, bring me your plans within three days, with
all the other data needed for the construction of one of your submarine
boats, and I will hand you, in exchange, the sum of twenty thousand
dollars. There you are, my good friend! Twenty thousand dollars. Now
you are ours, are you not?"

Disgusted, yet crafty, Jack Benson pretended to hesitate.

"You must give me your answer at once," demanded M. Lemaire. "I cannot
be played with any longer."

Captain Jack drew himself stiffly erect, looking the Frenchman full in
the eyes.