Kennedy smiled. Evidently Riley was unacquainted with the softer side of life.
“Where’s Shelby?” inquired Craig. “Have you seen him—or Mito?”
“Down in the café, the last I saw him,” replied Riley. “Shelby’s another nut. You know how much he loves the rest. Well, he came in all excited, too. And what does he do? Sees Johnson Walcott reading a paper, grabs him by the arm as though he was a long lost friend, and drags him down to the café. Say, I’ll be dippy, too, if this keeps on. They can’t even remember their own feuds!”
Kennedy glanced at me with an amused significance. I gathered that he meant to hint that Shelby was stopping at nothing to secure the aid of Johnson Walcott in smoothing affairs over with his sister, Winifred. Just how Walcott himself would look on such a match I had no idea and was rather glad when Kennedy suggested that we adjourn to the café ourselves to look them over.
In a leather-cushioned booth were Shelby and Walcott, Shelby doing most of the talking, while Walcott listened keenly. We could not very well deliberately take the next booth, but we did manage to find a corner where they were not likely to notice us.
We had not been there long before Mito came in, carrying a grip in which were the clothes and linen his master had ordered ashore. Shelby directed him where to take the things, and as the Jap stood there I saw that Walcott was watching him closely. Not once did Mito look at him, yet one could not help feeling that the Oriental knew that he was watched and that Walcott was absorbing something from Shelby.
Mito bowed as he received his orders. No sooner had he turned than I saw Walcott shoot a glance at Shelby. If I had been a lip-reader I might have been more certain of the words framed by his lips. As it was, I was ready to swear that Walcott asked, “Do you trust that fellow?” Shelby’s answer I could not guess, but his face showed no anxiety, and it seemed as though he passed off the remark lightly.
Though the others had not seen us, Mito spied us with his beady eyes, though he did not turn his head to do so. At the door he almost ran into Sanchez, who was engrossed in watching Shelby. Neither said a word, but the quick scowl of Sanchez spoke a volume. He hated Shelby and everything pertaining to him.
Whatever it was that Shelby and Walcott were discussing, it was apparent that Walcott was not at all enthusiastic. He did not betray any feeling in the matter other than coldness.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if they were discussing Winifred,” concluded Kennedy. “If that is what it’s about, it doesn’t look as though Johnson Walcott had any overburdening desire to have Shelby as a brother-in-law.”