“He did? He didn’t talk that way to me.”
“No. He said he was pretty angry at first, but he got over it when he found out who put the suspicion into your mind.”
“Nobody put the suspicion into my mind. I saw the man come out of mother’s stateroom and thought I recognized him. But who did Mr. Watson mean?”
“A man named Gunseyt. You know him, I suppose.”
“Yes, I know him in a way, about the same as I know you,” Guy explained. “I met him on the boat.”
“So did I. Odd chap, isn’t he?”
Meanwhile the boys made the course of the promenade once and doubled back, walking briskly and inhaling deep breaths of the keen air. Then they sat down on a bench near the open entrance of a sheltered corner. Neither spoke for several moments, and Guy had reason soon to be glad of their silence.
Presently they heard voices inside and a familiar name was uttered in a manner that caused them to be all attention in an instant.
“I tell you I know the fellow Watson,” said a voice that was strange to both listeners. “He’s a secret service man as sure as you’re a foot high.”
“Did you ever meet him before?” inquired another voice, the sound of which almost caused Guy to leap from his seat. Glennon caught him by the sleeve and implored silence in a low whisper. The first speaker was replying: