“And like enough they are watching that room.”
“Well—see there!”
The person they were following suddenly wheeled around and saw them. Ruth and Helen were so startled that they stopped, too, and stared in return. The face of the person in which they were so interested was a rather grim and unpleasant face. The cheeks were hollow, the short hair hung low on the forehead and reached only to the collar of the jacket behind. There were two deep wrinkles in the forehead over the high arched nose. Although the person had on no spectacles, the girls were positive that the eyes that peered at them were near-sighted.
“Why we should refer to her as she, when without doubt she is a he, I do not know,” said Helen, in a whisper, to Ruth.
The Unknown suddenly walked past them and sought a seat on one of the divans. The girls sat near, where they could keep watch of her, and they discussed quite seriously what they should do.
“I wish I could hear its voice,” whispered Ruth. “Then we might tell something more about it.”
“But we heard him speak on the dock—don’t you remember?”
“Oh, yes! when he almost knocked that poor colored man down.”
“Yes. And his voice was just a squeal then,” said Helen. “He tried to disguise it, of course.”
“While now,” added Ruth, chuckling, “he is as silent as the Sphinx.”