“No, but I’ve seen him in court; I’ve heard him testify. He’s an ocean ferret, spends most of his time on ocean liners. He’s hooked up several old pals of mine.”
“Is his name Watson?” inquired the voice that had startled Guy.
“You can bet it ain’t. He’s got a dozen names and two dozen disguises.”
“I’ve been suspecting him. I haven’t been asleep. Is he disguised now?”
“In his dress and manner, yes. That’s one of the best disguises ever heard of. False whiskers and a wig ain’t in it. A good actor can change his personality so you’d never know him, even if one eye’s in his chin and the other’s in his forehead. This fellow’s togged up like an American merchant and carries himself like the owner of the world. Very sarcastic and snaps you up with a wise grin every time he gets a chance.”
Guy had observed this peculiarity in Watson on some occasions, while on others it seemed entirely wanting. But if it was assumed with a purpose this variation was now explained.
The conversation of the two men now dropped to an undertone and the boys were unable to hear any more. They strained their ears unsuccessfully several minutes; then Guy arose and whispered to his companion:
“Come on.”
They stole softly away, and when at a safe distance, the younger boy said:
“I know one of those men, I’m sure. I want to tell you about him an’ then go back and see what kind o’ looking fellow he is.”