William Johnston: Sorry, Chief…

“Gangway? We’re in no hurry,” Max said. “We’ll just toddle, if you don’t mind.”

“He means the stairway is that way,” 99 explained.

“Oh.” He scowled. “I thought the stairway was called the ladder on a ship.”

“It probably is,” the officer said. “I never learned much seafaring talk. I specialized in ticket-taking.”

Bumped from behind by an impatient passenger, the trio moved on.

“Gee, Deck C-that must be pretty close to the top,” 99 said enthusiastically. “I think there’s A Deck, then B Deck, then C Deck. That’s pretty luxurious-considering that Control is on an economy kick.”

“First Class, all the way,” Max said. “Control may not pay well, but the fringe benefits make up for it.”

“Oh… here’s the gangway… or ladder…” 99 said. “See, it says ‘stairway’ above it.”

They started the descent down the stairs, with Max leading and 99 and Fang following, in that order.

“We were on A Deck,” 99 said. “So B Deck must be the next one, and then C Deck will be next.”

But when they reached the next deck it was marked “A-1”.

“Well, the next deck must be B Deck,” 99 said.

But the next deck down was “A-2”.

“As I calculate it,” Max said, “C Deck will be three decks lower than a submarine.”

They continued downward, past decks A-3, A-4, A-5, B, B-1, B-2, B-3, B-4, B-5, until they finally reached C Deck.

“The breathing is a little touch-and-go down here,” Max panted. “I wonder how far below sea level we are?”

“I don’t know,” 99 said. “But one thing- don’t open a porthole!”

They walked along the corridor, checking stateroom numbers, until finally they found their own.

“Isn’t that cozy,” 99 said. “We’re side by side. You and Fang have Stateroom C-12, and I have Stateroom C-13.” She pushed on the door of her stateroom. But it opened only a crack. “There must be something against it,” she said.

“Let me put this attache case in my own room, then I’ll help you,” Max said. He pushed open his own door and peered into the room. “I think I know what it is that’s against your door,” he said. “I think it’s the opposite wall.”

99 stood on tip-toe and looked over his shoulder. “It is little, isn’t it?” she said sadly.

“Well… it’s bigger than a breadbox-but that’s about all I can say for it,” Max replied. He stepped into the room. “Come on in.”

Fang trotted in after him.

“You, too, 99,” he said.

“If I do,” she said, “I’ll be riding Fang bareback.”

Max looked back over his shoulder. “Oh, yes, I see. With Fang and me in here, there isn’t any room for anyone else.”

“There isn’t even room for you and Fang,” 99 said. “His tail hangs out.”

“He can sleep in the corridor and keep watch,” Max said.

“Rorff!”

“All right, all right, we’ll take turns. But, right now, let’s see what we can do about getting 99’s door open.”

Fang backed out, and Max emerged behind him-or in front of him.

Max put his weight against the door of 99’s stateroom. But it refused to budge. “I think I see what the trouble is,” he said. “If your stateroom is like my stateroom, then the door to the bathroom is directly behind the entrance door. Except, of course, on the adjoining wall. Which means that when the bathroom door is open, it’s impossible to open the entrance door-because it strikes against the bathroom door. Do you see what I mean? In other words, if you’re in the bathroom and someone opens the entrance door, you’re stuck in the bathroom until whoever it is closes the entrance door so that you can open the bathroom door. Or, to put it another way-”

“I think I understand, Max,” 99 said. “But how will I get into my room?”

“Simple,” Max said. “Go in and close the bathroom door, then- Oh, yes, I see that does make it difficult, doesn’t it?”

“Rorff!” Fang barked.

“Excellent idea, Fang!” Max said. “Go to it!”

Fang squeezed in through the narrow opening. A moment later there was the sound of a door being closed inside the stateroom. Then the entrance door swung open, revealing Fang.

“Lucky you didn’t close yourself into the bathroom,” Max said to him. “If you had, we might have had to do without your valuable services on this mission. As I calculate it, once you go into a bathroom in one of these staterooms, there is no way out. Unless you escape by way of the drain.”

“My luggage is here, Max,” 99 reported from inside her room. “Is yours?”

“No, mine’s in my stateroom,” Max replied. “Why would it be in yours?”

“That’s what I meant.” She poked her head out. “I want to change. Then we better get started on our mission. What do we do first, Max?”

“According to the schedule the Chief acquired for me,” Max replied, “there is a ‘welcome aboard’ party for the touring scientists on A Deck in half an hour. I think we ought to attend. If we keep a sharp eye out, we may be able to identify the diabolical Dr. X.”

“See you in half an hour, Max,” 99 said, closing her door.

Max went to his own stateroom. Pausing in the doorway, he said to Fang, “I want to change, too. So you take the first watch.”

“Rorff!”

“Don’t be difficult!” Max snapped. “That’s utterly ridiculous! What could you change to?”

Fang growled peevishly. But then he accepted his fate and stretched out in the corridor.

“You might as well make your peace with the fact,” Max said sympathetically. “You’re a dog, and you’re going to live a dog’s life.”

Then he closed the door.

A half-hour after the ‘welcome aboard’ party for the scientists was scheduled to begin, Max, 99 and Fang began the slow and laborious climb from C Deck to A Deck. They had decided to arrive late so that, in the crowd, they would not be especially noticed.

“When you’re working undercover, it’s always best not to be the first one to arrive at a party,” Max explained. “If you are, the host or hostess feels compelled to introduce you to every blessed soul who arrives after you. And, after a while, after remembering all those names, he or she gets a little groggy. And he or she is just liable to introduce you as Secret Agent such-and-such. There is nothing that will uncover an undercover as quickly as that!”

“But that couldn’t happen to us,” 99 said. “Nobody on board knows that we’re secret agents.”

“And let’s keep it that way,” Max said. “That’s why it’s important that we arrive late at the party. You see, when you’re working undercover- Oh, I explained that, didn’t I?”

However, when they reached the lounge where the party was to be held, they found it vacant, except for one young man in a ship’s uniform who was standing at the doorway. The young man welcomed them exuberantly.

“Where are the others?” Max asked.

“Oh, it’s too early,” the young man replied. “The party was only scheduled to begin forty-five minutes ago. No one wants to be the one to arrive first at a party, you know. So, it will be at least another half-hour before the others begin to arrive. But you’re here-so we can start.”

“Actually,” Max said, “we’re not here. We were just passing by, on our way to take a half-hour stroll on deck.” He motioned to 99 and Fang. “Come along. We’re a bit early for the party.”

“But you’re not early, you’re late,” the young man protested.

“Late, yes-but early late,” Max corrected. “We’ll come back when we can be late late like everyone else.”

They walked out onto the deck. The liner was moving smoothly through the water, and the Manhattan skyline could be clearly seen in the near distance.