Three whose dress proclaimed that they belonged to the land of the Nile particularly attracted his notice.
One was an elderly man of benevolent expression, with deep piercing eyes peering out from beneath shaggy eyebrows. He seemed a sage and a scholar, rich in wisdom and experience. Don instinctively liked him without exactly knowing why. His name, as the boy ascertained from one of the deck stewards, was Zata Phalos.
Two other Egyptians, who, as Don learned from the same source, bore the names of Tezra and Nepahak, aroused in Don a feeling of suspicion and distrust. They were always together, and usually conversing in low tones, as though fearing to be overheard. From glances they cast frequently at Phalos, accompanied by a vindictive glitter, Don judged that the latter was the subject of their conversation.
Tezra was tall and stoop-shouldered, while Nepahak was fat, short and oily. Don noticed that Tezra did most of the talking, while Nepahak assented by nods or objected in monosyllables. Tezra was apparently the dominant character of the two. To Don, the faces of both bore the stamp of evil.
“Those birds will bear watching,” Don muttered to himself. “I’d hate to be at their mercy if they had an object in injuring me.”
On the third afternoon out Don noticed a certain confusion about one of the hatchways. A number of the crew seemed to be hauling about rather roughly a figure that was obscured by the crowd.
“What’s the matter?” asked Don of a steward who came hurrying past him.
“They’ve nabbed a stowaway,” was the reply.
“Poor fellow,” thought Don. He knew that a stowaway was about as popular with a ship’s officers and crew as a rattlesnake at a picnic party. “I suppose they’ll make him work out his passage in the stokehole for the rest of the voyage.”
Just then a petty officer came up to where Don was seated in his deck chair between those occupied by the captain and the professor.