The stranger fell to, but there was a look of amazement in his face which no one there failed to observe. Case thought the look meant that he was astonished to find that the diamonds were not in the pot. Clay believed that the lad was upset by the courteous treatment he was receiving. Alex understood that it was because of Jule’s presence that the boy was so all at sea, mentally.
All the lads saw in the return of the boy some faint chance to solve the mystery of the loss of the money. “Perhaps,” hopeful Alex thought, “he has repented and brought the money back with him.” Clay watched the boy for a moment and said, tentatively:
“They didn’t keep you at the station very long?” “No,” was the confused reply. “I proved my innocence and they let me go. I came back here to let you know.”
“Why have you been hanging around the boat?” asked Case, leaning over the side of his bed. “You were out there by the warehouse a long time to-night, and someone from the boat called out to you.”
Jule looked up suspiciously, but Case went on:
“Then you came into the cabin.”
The stranger shook his head.
“You are mistaken,” he insisted.
“Let him alone!” Alex ordered. “Give him a chance to eat his supper, can’t you. What’s your name, kid?” he continued, forgetful of his own suggestion that the stranger be permitted to eat in peace.
“Frank Porter,” was the quick reply. “I was born near the headwaters of the Amazon, in Peru. I came to Chicago to attend to some business, and haven’t been able to get back.”