“Have you ever seen him before?” asked Frank.
“His face seemed familiar, but I cannot place him,” was Jack’s reply. “Hold on, though,” he exclaimed suddenly, “I know now who he is!”
“Who?” demanded Frank.
“He was one of the sailors aboard Lord Hastings’ yacht. I remember that long, sharp nose. Now what do you suppose he is following us for?”
“You’ve got me. However, I guess he is not following us any longer!”
But Frank was wrong.
The man who had been following the two boys had not been thrown off the trail by their ruse. He was too old a hand at the game to be shaken off so easily; but he had recognized the fact that the boys knew they were being shadowed. Now he kept farther in the background, well out of sight. As a result the lads, upon returning to the American hotel, where they had taken rooms, were not aware that their pursuer had followed them to its doors.
After dinner the boys sat down in the lobby of the hotel, awaiting the arrival of Hetherington, who had promised to meet them there at 8 o’clock. A taxi driver entered, approached the desk, and a moment later a page started through the lobby, calling:
“Mr. Templeton! Mr. Templeton!”
“Here,” said Jack, rising.