Over the countenance of the man came a tinge of fear, and Tom smiled grimly. He saw the features of the man as they had been on the day when he came aboard the Silver Star in such a hurry—a smooth-shaven face—the face on which Tom had seen the man adjusting a false beard in his stateroom that day.
The mysterious passenger gasped. Then he said:
“You—you here—Tom—Tom Fairfield?”
“Yes, I’m here, Professor Skeel,” announced our hero calmly, as he faced the former Latin instructor of Elmwood Hall—the teacher against whom he had led such a successful revolt. “I’m here, and I’m surprised to see you here.”
“No more—no more than I am to be here—and to see you,” came the grim answer. “It’s a mutual surprise I fancy.”
“Yes,” agreed Tom simply.
“Do you know this man?” asked Joe. “This Mr. Trendell?” for, somehow, the sailor had learned the name by which the renegade professor had gone.
“I don’t know him by that name,” spoke Tom, “but it doesn’t matter I fancy. We have other things to consider now.”
“All right,” agreed the sailor. “It’s none of my affair. Only when a man goes by two names—”