“At this rate, we’ll be admirals before long,” chortled Herc.
“You’ll have to get some of those freckles off your face first, then, and——”
He broke off abruptly, as he suddenly became aware that their conversation must have been audible to a man who was reposing in the sun on the other side of the cowl ventilator, in the shelter of which they had been talking. It was the smoke hour after dinner, and many men were lolling about the decks, but neither of the boys had noticed this particular fellow.
“What did you stop so suddenly for?” began Herc, with a blank look, but Ned cut him short.
“Hush,” he whispered, “don’t say any more. After all, he may be asleep.”
“Well, what on earth——”
“Come on and take a turn, Herc.”
Ned forcibly raised his chum to his feet and walked forward with him. Then they turned aft once more. They chose the other side of the Beale, however, so as to get a good view of the figure that Ned had spied on the other side of the ventilator. But in the brief interval they had had their backs turned the man had gone.
“That confirms my suspicions,” said Ned.
“Suspicions of what?”