The lad broke off suddenly and laid a hand on his chum’s arm.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Frank.
For answer Jack pointed cautiously to a form at the far end of the room. The man’s back was turned and he had not seen the lads.
“Well?” said Frank inquiringly, after glancing at the man.
“Doesn’t he look familiar to you?” asked Jack.
“No; I can’t say that he does—not from the back, at any rate. Whom do you think he is?”
“Well,” said Jack, “I feel positive that he is none other than our old friend Count Blowinski.”
“What!” exclaimed Frank incredulously. “But Count Blowinski is in Siberia by this time.”
“He should be, I’ll admit,” agreed Jack. “But he can’t be in two places, and he’s here. Therefore, he can’t be in Siberia.”
“Pshaw!” said Frank. “Now that you have called my attention to the man I do see a certain resemblance in build, but I don’t believe he is Count Blowinski.”