Earl Derr Biggers

“ He had agreed to assume the role of detective and his course was clear. He must discover the owner of that disappearing shirt.
He rang for Tatu and, while he waited, rattled at the door leading to the bath. Not that he expected to gain anything by it, but it relieved his feelings.
Tatu entered, minus his accustomed smile. The boy was worried; there could be no mistake about that.
“Very much trouble today,” he announced. “Dollar gone. All Japanese boys catch hell. You want something, please?”
“How about taking back that shirt?” asked Bill, looking at him keenly.
“Yes-s,” said Tatu. ”

“ Tatu laid down the coat.
“Mr. Frost have plenty collar,” he said.
“Oh, he did?” Bill sought to appear casual. “I guess I didn't get it straight then. Well supplied with collars, was he?”
“Very big box. Maybe ten. Maybe twelve. Plenty.”
“You don't tell me!”
“I lay him out. I know.”
Bill turned away lest his face betray him. Here was news! Henry Frost's story disproved already. It certainly began to look as though this Hammond boy was a born detective.
The ownership of the shirt was of no importance now.
“The morning is O.K., Tatu,” he remarked, staring out the port-hole. ”

“ Tatu explained. “Put key in pocket.”
Smiling to himself, Bill went to the dining saloon, where his employer sat alone at his breakfast.
“Good morning, sir,” said Bill.
“Good morning. You breakfast late.” Frost's tone implied that it was a bad sign.
“I've had my breakfast, Mr. Frost. I want to speak to you, if you don't mind.”
“And if I do mind?”
“I'd have to speak anyhow,” said Bill firmly. Henry Frost looked up sourly from his grapefruit.
“I'll say this for you: You're the most offensive man on my pay-roll.” ”

“ You went there for a dollar.”
Henry Frost rose and tossed down his napkin.
“Will you come with me?” he said.
“Certainly, sir.” Bill followed his employer on deck. “This is all very painful for me, Mr. Frost.”
“Yes, more so than you think. Do you happen to know where Jim Batchelor is?”
“He's on the after deck.”
Henry Frost turned in that direction.
“Regarding that interview with Mikklesen, you needn't trouble. You're not on the paper any more.”
“Just as you say, sir,” Bill replied smilingly.
But his heart sank. In love and out of work—a great combination. ”

“ I'm only trying to do the right thing.”
“People who are only trying to do the right thing generally make fools of themselves. What is it now?”
“Last night I told you I didn't intend to go to Mr. Batchelor with certain information I had picked up. I've been forced to change my mind.”
“Really? What forced you?”
“That story of yours about the collars. I've found out it wasn't true.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, sir. You say you went to Jim Batchelor's room for a collar. I say that's a typographical error. ”

“ I give you my word, it was all a joke.”
“A joke! You old simpleton! Getting funny at your age! Well, hand it over!”
“I want you to understand how it was,” Frost continued. “I was determined to take you out and trim you at golf today. ”

“ Besides”—he glanced about him—“it's rather a hard thing to say about one's guests; but—well, I trust you, my boy.” The emphasis on the “you” was marked.
“That's very kind of you, sir. May I ask what steps you have taken in the matter?”
“You a Detective! You're a Defective, That's What Ails You! You Get My Hopes Way Up, and Then You—You—You——”
“The servants and the crew have all been questioned. ”