"Oh, do you know him?"
"I think I do," answered Dave, in a suppressed but intense tone.
"Likely. He's been haunting the harbors here for several days. I happened to see the two sitting on that bench in front of the pilot's shanty, and took a shot."
Dave, looking worried and hopeful, in doubt and suspicious, by turns, kept scanning the photograph.
"Who is the man, anyhow?" he asked, placing his finger on the pilot's companion.
"Schmitt-Schmitt, he calls himself--from the Dutch West Indies, he says."
"He calls himself that, does he?" said Dave thoughtfully, "and he is a Dutchman?"
"All I know is that he got onto the island here somehow--I believe from a tramp steamer a few days ago. He's close up to the governor and the pilot. Every craft that touches here, he visits its captain and wants to charter the ship."
"He wants to charter a ship," repeated Dave--"what for?"
"Mysterious cruise. He has discovered an island full of diamonds, or a mountain of gold, or some such thing," replied Adair. "He makes fabulous offers to any captain who will take a thirty-day cruise on the speculation. When he turns out all promises and no ready cash, of course the captains laugh at him. Been to you to join in his speculation, eh?"