“Look out, chief!” whispered Patsy. “He may be waiting for us. You don’t want to run right into a gun before you know it.”
“I don’t think he would dare to shoot just now,” smiled Nick. “When he is cornered, Rayne knows enough to give in. He depends on his cunning to escape later.”
“That may be all so,” admitted Patsy grudgingly. “But you’d better let me go first. If he plugs me, it won’t matter, because I ain’t of any importance. It’s different with you. If he got you, where would we find another to take your place. So——”
Patsy was surging ahead, to go into the narrow corridor, without waiting for permission.
Nick caught him by the shoulder and swung him aside, with playful sternness.
“You rat!” he laughed. “Get out! I’m going in myself. You and Chick keep watch on deck. You never know what Rayne will do. Get out of the way!”
The detective had got into the corridor, and had his eye on the door of the stateroom that had been pointed out to him as Portersham’s, when he was startled by a loud shout from Patsy, echoed by Chick and Paul Clayton.
He understood at once that the disturbance had been caused by some act of Rayne’s, but he did not know what it was.
It would not be safe for him to go out of the corridor now, leaving a free route for Rayne to liberty.
“They may have seen him at a window,” he muttered. “Anyhow, he can’t get away so long as we have him on the ship.”