“I did,” said Dick, concealing a smile behind his hand. “That sort of Bostonese has carried the old boy off his feet. Brad, the professor has lost his head over the lady from Boston, and it is up to you and me to rescue him from the peril that threatens him. He is in danger, and we must not falter.”
The steamer was swinging in to her mooring, but Professor Gunn was now too absorbed in Miss Ketchum and her talk to tell the boys anything about the two cities, that of the “Infidel” and that of the “Faithful,” which lay before them.
A man with a decidedly Oriental cast of countenance, but who wore English-made clothes, paused near the professor and Miss Ketchum, seemingly watching the boats which were swarming off to the steamer.
“Look, pard,” whispered Buckhart. “There’s the inquisitive gent who has bothered us so much—the one we found in our stateroom one day. He’s listening now to the professor and the Boston woman. I’ll bet my life on it.”
“I see him,” said Dick, yet without turning his head. “Brad, the man is spying on us.”
“I certain reckon so, and I’m a whole lot sorry we let him off without thumping him up when we found him in our stateroom.”
“He protested that he got in there by accident.”
“And lied like the Turk that he is!” muttered the Texan. “I’d give a whole bunch of steers to know what his name is.”
“He’s up to something. I found his name on the list of passengers.”
“What is it?”