The porter had received handsome pay for his silence, and Patsy knew he could be trusted.
He dressed and went forward to the dining car.
As he passed Snell’s stateroom, he listened for the sound of voices, but none came.
The detective wondered if there was one man in that room who couldn’t speak.
Having plenty of time to kill, he spent an hour at the breakfast table.
Before he was ready to go, in came Snell and the stranger.
They sat at the same table and appeared to be in good spirits—at least, the stranger was.
Snell looked rather haggard, but he talked with his companion, and without any apparent fear of him.
“Strange!” thought Patsy; “but I’m glad my man is still alive. I want to find out what it all means.”