“Met Paquita?” I exclaimed, in surprise at Shelby’s secret meeting after his public ignoring of the little adventuress.
“On the beach, alone,” reiterated Riley, pleased at retailing even this apparent bit of scandal.
“What then?” demanded Craig.
“They strolled off down the shore together.”
“Have you followed them?”
“Yes, confound it, but it’s low tide and following them is difficult, without their knowing it. I told the men to do the best they could, though—short of getting into another fight. Mito may be about, and, anyhow, Shelby might give a very good account of himself.”
“You’re not sure of Mito, then?”
“No. No one saw him again after he threw my operative. He may have disappeared. However, I took no chance that Shelby was alone.”
For a moment Kennedy seemed to consider the surprising turn that Shelby’s secret meeting with the little dancer might give to the affair.
“Walter,” he said at last, turning to me significantly, “would you like to take a stroll down to the dock? This matter begins to look interesting.”