“It seems to clinch my argument,” Ruth said. “There is something underhanded going on—some plot—some mystery. This Dykman must be in it.”
“By Jove!”
“Have you known the man long?”
“He is a new member of the ship’s company—as I am,” admitted Dowd.
“He may be ‘Boldig,’” said Ruth, smiling faintly.
“I will find out what is known of him,” the first officer promised. “Meanwhile do you think you would like to look over the seamen and other members of the crew?”
“I do not think there would be any use in my doing so—not at present. They probably know what we are after and the flaxen-haired man will remain hidden. The boat is large.”
“True,” Dowd agreed thoughtfully. “And as we do not know his name it would be difficult to find him on the ship’s roster. Besides, I do not believe that Captain Hastings would allow further search. You see what kind of a man he is, Miss Fielding.”
“Make no excuse, Mr. Dowd,” she said hastily. “You have done all you can. I am sorry I started this in the first place. I merely considered it my duty to do so.”
“I quite appreciate your attitude,” he said, bowing over her hand. “And I think you did right. There is something on foot that must be investigated, Captain Hastings, or no Captain Hastings!”