They leaned over the rail. Soon the blue fires began to play about their mast head. Sogrange watched them thoughtfully.
“If one could only read those messages,” he remarked, with a sigh, “it might help us.”
Peter knocked the ash from his cigar and was silent for a time. He was beginning to understand the situation.
“My friend,” he said at last, “I have been doing you an injustice. I have come to the conclusion that you are not keeping me in ignorance of the vital facts connected with our visit to America, willfully. At the present moment you know just a little more, but a very little more than I do.”
“What perception!” Sogrange murmured. “My dear Baron, sometimes you amaze me. You are absolutely right. I have some pieces and I am convinced that they would form a puzzle the solution of which would be interesting to us, but how or where they fit in, I frankly don’t know. You have the facts so far.”
“Certainly,” Peter replied.
“You have heard of Sirdeller?”
“You mean the Sirdeller?” Peter asked.
“Naturally. I mean the man whose very movements sway the money markets of the world, the man who could, if he chose, ruin any nation, make war impossible; who could if he had ten more years of life and was allowed to live, draw to himself and his own following the entire wealth of the universe.”
“Very eloquent,” Peter remarked. “We’ll take the rest for granted.”