A man strolled along the deck and fell in at his side.
“Cleaned you out last night, didn’t they?” he asked sympathetically.
“Eh? Oh, yes, I believe they did. That red-haired man had all the luck and most of the cards.”
He smiled and Timothy had a swift, happy smile that brought tired little ridges under his eyes. He was not only good-looking and young, but he was interesting.
The man at his side took the cigar from his teeth and looked at it before he spoke.
“Of course, you know they were crooks—they work this coast line regularly.”
“Eh?”
Timothy looked round, shocked and pained.
“You don’t say? Crooks! What, that little red-haired fellow who has been trying to pick a quarrel with me all the voyage, and the tall, nice-looking Englishman?”
His companion nodded.