“Then you think he will make another attempt?” asked Jack.
“I have not the slightest doubt of it. Whatever nation is paying him, it has set a high price on the successful issue of his venture; and he will stop at nothing to put it through, if I have any knowledge of the man,” was the response.
“I think the best thing we can all do now is to turn in,” said Dr. Flynn.
This was generally agreed and good-nights were said; but before Jack sought his cabin, he visited the doctor’s room, where his face was attended to so as to leave hardly any marks of his encounter with Jarrold.
The latter did not appear the next day, but his niece, radiant and smiling, was at breakfast as if nothing had occurred. Jack looked at her wonderingly. He had not the slightest doubt that her part in the plot had been the cry of “Fire”; but she appeared as carefree and debonair as if she had nothing more important on her mind than making a charming appearance.
Jack could not help grinning to himself when Jarrold did not come down.
“I guess I gave him something to think about,” he remarked with a chuckle to Sam, as the two discussed the subject.
Jarrold appeared the next day. A dark mark under his left eye was the only visible sign of the encounter in Colonel Minturn’s cabin. He studiously avoided the other passengers, however, and spent most of his time pacing the deck with his niece.
The weather was steadily growing warmer now. Porpoises appeared in rolling, leaping schools, and flying fish were stirred up in whole coveys by the ship’s bow. The officers donned white uniforms, as did our wireless boys, and everything indicated that the steamer was entering the tropics.
It was Jack’s first voyage into such regions, and both he and Sam thrilled with the anticipation of seeing the new sights and people. But all the time, Jack was aware that under their feet was a smoldering volcano. Covered for a time, and blanketed, it was still smoldering, of that he was certain. He caught himself wondering uneasily what form the next attempt would take.