As far as they were able the crew of the airship did indeed keep a very watchful eye upon the portly frame of Mr. Carl Reitberg. He never left his cabin to pace the deck but some bare-footed sailor followed, or met him by accident as it were, or made pretence to be on watch, and paced the deck within easy distance. Down below, too, there was the Sergeant. As we have narrated, he claimed an old acquaintance with the magnate, though he was careful to keep that fact to himself, merely repeating his warning to his employers. He even went so far as to inspect Carl Reitberg's baggage, a task of no great difficulty since he acted as valet as well as mess sergeant.
"Any particular wishes, sir?" he asked politely, soon after Carl's arrival on board. "If you will kindly hand me your keys I will unpack and stow your things in the wardrobe."
The lordly magnate handed them over instantly, with a curt nod of approval. He was even pleased to hand the Sergeant a golden coin on his return to the cabin. For his trunk was unpacked and removed to the baggage apartment, while his clothes were laid out in the drawers of the wardrobe.
"Keys, sir," said the Sergeant, handing them to him. "What about this box, sir," and he pointed to the one which had accompanied Carl, and of which he had been so careful. "Shall I take it to the baggage room?"
"Certainly not! Er—no, thank you," exclaimed the magnate promptly, and with some acerbity. "Er—leave it there. It's full of—er—valuables, things I wish to show to Mr. Provost. I had it sealed, and would have brought the things in a safe but for the fact that it would have been so heavy, too heavy for this vessel."
"She'll carry tons and tons, sir," came the respectful answer. "A dozen safes wouldn't make any difference. So I'm to leave the box, sir?"
"Decidedly! Ah! I see that the seals are unbroken. That's satisfactory."
It may have been satisfactory to Mr. Reitberg, but it was anything but that to Sergeant Evans.
"Don't I know his foxy ways, too," he told himself, when ensconced in the privacy of his pantry diligently cleaning silver. "I haven't served with the military police in South Africa without learning something, and there's things I remember. For instance, this Carl Reitberg was someone else out there, and not half so fine and mighty. I.D.B. they called him, which means illicit diamond buyer. And there were other things he was suspected to be, things that people forget when they see him dressed so fine and know that he's as wealthy as they make 'em. I know—foxy! That's him—I'm watching!"