The others will follow.”
The two men separated. Motkin’s underling made his way to Waddell’s cabin. There, he knocked upon the door. Waddell opened it and looked at his visitor with some surprise.
“Just passing by, Mr. Waddell,” said the arrival. “Stopped to say good night.”
The millionaire gazed suspiciously at the stranger. The two had been companions at the poker table.
Waddell knew the man’s name was Baldridge. That was all. He wondered why this chance visitor had stopped with no apparent purpose.
Studying Baldridge, Waddell received a bad impression. The man had a foreign look. He appeared to be an adventurer. Waddell had encountered other individuals of his type. They were the class who tried to prey upon wealthy Americans.
“Very kind of you,” remarked Waddell testily. “Well, good night.”
Baldridge gave no sign of leaving. Instead, he gazed curiously about the stateroom.
“You are right, Mr. Waddell,” he said. “This is an excellent stateroom. By the way — where is that white elephant of which you were speaking?”
“In the other stateroom,” snapped Waddell. “My daughter is sleeping in there. Good night, Baldridge.”