“Phalos,” interrupted Don. “That’s another Egyptian that’s on the ship. Kind of an old man, a pretty good kind of a scout, it seems to me.”
“I guess that’s the one, then,” said Teddy. “I hadn’t listened long before I knew that they were trying to put something over on this Phalos, as you call him. Then I lifted up the edge of the tarpaulin a bit, and took a peep at them. The moon was up, so I had a good look, and I knew them again the minute I saw them at the table.”
“What were they trying to put over on him?”
“Seems he’s got some papers they want to get. I couldn’t get just the rights of it, but it seemed mighty important to them. Heard one of them say it would make them rich if they could cop them. And I don’t think they’d stop at anything to get them. I heard one of them say something that means about the same thing as our ‘dead men tell no tales.’”
Just at this moment the two men they were talking about passed them. They were not sauntering, in the manner of most of the passengers, but moved as though they were bent on a purpose, like hounds on a trail.
“Look like a pair of pirates,” snorted Teddy.
“They wouldn’t take any prizes at a beauty show,” agreed Don. “Wonder what they’re up to now.”
“Something they wouldn’t want any one to know about, I bet,” Teddy conjectured.
Suddenly a thought struck Don, and he started up.
“I didn’t see Phalos at the table to-night!” he exclaimed. “He sits near us, and is usually there.”