"Monte Carlo is one of the noted spots of the world," Dave responded slowly, "and I shall be glad to see a place of which I have heard and read so much. But I shall not gamble at Monte Carlo. I can make better use of my money and of my character."
"Bravo!" agreed Totten.
"How long is that strip of beach, the Riviera?" asked one officer of Lieutenant Commander Wales, the navigating officer.
"From Nice to Genoa, which is what is commonly understood as the real Riviera," replied the navigating officer; "the distance is one hundred and sixteen miles. But, beyond Genoa, on the other side, the beach continues for fifty-six miles to Spezia. On the strip from Genoa to Spezia the shore is so rocky that it has been found necessary to construct eighty-odd tunnels through the headlands for the railway that runs the whole length of the Riviera."
Most of the talk, during that breakfast hour, was about the Riviera, and much of that had to do with Monte Carlo.
"For years I've wanted very particularly to see that town of Monte Carlo," Danny Grin confessed.
"Not to gamble, I hope," replied Dave.
"Millions for sight-seeing, but not a cent for gambling," Dalzell paraphrased lightly.
"Gentlemen," warned Mr. Wales, "don't be too certain that you'll see Monte Carlo on this cruise. Often the weather is too rough for a landing in that vicinity."
"And in that case?" queried Lieutenant Totten.
"In that case," replied Wales, "the usual rule is for the ship to go on to anchorage in the harbor at Genoa."
"Any one know whether the barometer is talking about a storm?" Dalzell asked.
"That's a foolish question," remarked Lieutenant Barnes grouchily.
"Hello!" said Danny Grin, turning half around and eyeing the last speaker. "You here?"
"As usual," nodded Barnes gruffly.
"What was that you said about a foolish question?" demanded Dan.
"I was referring to your habit of asking foolish questions," retorted Barnes.
"Do I ask any more of them than you do?" Dalzell retorted, a bit gruffly.
"You do," Barnes declared, "and that's one of them."
"If I thought I asked more foolish questions than you do, sir," Dan rejoined, laying down his coffee cup, "I'd—"
Here Dalzell paused.
"What would you do?" Barnes insisted.
"On second thought," Dan went on gravely, "I don't believe I'll tell you. It was something desperate that I was thinking of."
"Then drop the idea, Dalzell," scoffed Lieutenant Barnes lightly. "You're hardly the fellow we'd look to for desperate deeds."
"Oh, am I not?" demanded Dan, for once a bit miffed.
Several of the officers glanced up apprehensively. From necessity, life in the ward-room is an oppressively close one at best. A feud between two officers of the mess is enough to make all hands uncomfortable much of the time.
"Cut it, Barnes," ordered the officer sitting on the right-hand side of Lieutenant Barnes. "Don't start any argument."
"Gentlemen," broke in the paymaster, anxious to change the topic of conversation, "have you gone so far with your meal that a little bad news won't spoil your appetites?"
Most of those present nodded, smilingly.
"Then," continued the paymaster, "I wish to bring up a matter that has been discussed here before. You all know that in some way, owing to the carelessness of some one, there is an unexplained shortage of thirty-three dollars in our mess-fund. You appointed Totten and myself a committee to look into the matter. We now beg to report that the thirty-three dollars cannot be accounted for. What is your pleasure in the matter?"
"I would call it very simple," replied Lieutenant Commander Wales. "Why not levy an assessment upon the members of this mess sufficient to make up the thirty-three dollars? It will amount to very little apiece."
That way of remedying the shortage would have been agreed to promptly, had not Lieutenant Barnes cut in eagerly:
"I've a better plan for making up the shortage. One man can pay it all, as a penalty, and there will be a lot of fun in deciding which member has to pay the penalty."
"What's the idea, Mr. Barnes?" asked the executive officer.
"It's simple enough," Barnes went on, grinning. "Let us set apart the dinner hour on Tuesday evening, say. Every time this mess gets together we hear a lot of foolish questions asked. Now, on Tuesday evening, if any member of this mess asks a question that he can't answer himself, let it be agreed that he pay into the mess a fine of thirty-three dollars to cover the shortage."
"It won't work," objected Totten. "Every officer at this table will be on his guard not to ask any questions at all."
"In that case," proposed Barnes, "let the rule hold over on each successive Tuesday evening until the victim is found and has paid his fine."
"It sounds like sport," agreed Dave Darrin.
"It will be sport to see the victim 'stung' and made to pay up," grinned Dan Dalzell.
"And I think I know, already," contended Lieutenant Barnes, "which officer will pay that shortage."
"Are you looking at me with any particular significance?" demanded Danny Grin.
"I am," Barnes admitted.
"Oh, well, then, we shall see what we shall see," quoth Dalzell, his color rising.
The scheme for fixing the thirty-three-dollar penalty was quickly agreed upon. In fact, the plan had in it many of the exciting elements of a challenge.
Darrin left the mess to go on duty. Dan found him presently.
"Say," murmured Danny Grin, in an aside, "do you think Barnes will be very angry when he pays over that thirty-three dollars?"
"I haven't yet heard that he is to pay it," Dave answered quietly.
"But he is," Dalzell asserted.
"How's that?"
"I'm going to make it my business," Dan went on, "to see that Barnes is the victim of the very scheme that he proposed. He will ask a question that he can't answer, and he'll do it when Tuesday evening comes around."
"Don't be too sure of that," Dave warned him. "Barnes may not be exactly the most amiable officer aboard, but at least he's a very keen chap. If you are forming any plans for making Barnes pay, look out, Dan, that your scheme doesn't recoil upon yourself!"
"Wait and see," Dalzell insisted. "I tell you, Barnes is going to pay that thirty-three dollars into the mess treasury!"
CHAPTER III
THE STARTLER AT MONTE CARLO
The frowning crags of Monaco confronted the United States battleship "Hudson."
Here and there the rocky eminences were broken by tiny strips of white beach. In comparison with the crags the great, floating fighting machine looked like a pigmy, indeed.
It was toward evening, and the day was Tuesday. Darrin and Dalzell, both off duty for the time being, strolled along the battleship's quarter-deck, gazing