“Not that exactly,” replied Don. “I was restless, and thought that a change might make me drowsy enough to make it worth while to go back to bed. I’m glad you came along, Mr. Maitland. Did you hear those splashes in the water?”
“Splashes!” exclaimed the officer, alert on the instant. “No. Where were they?”
“Rather close to the stern,” replied Don. “One followed close upon another. I know that one was made by a man, for I saw him, and I suppose the other one was too.”
The officer unslung his night glasses and looked in the direction of the shore, but could make out nothing.
“What do you suppose they were?” inquired Don. “Could they have been deserters, do you think?”
“That’s possible, I suppose,” replied Mr. Maitland, with a perplexed air, as he put up his glasses. “Though I don’t know of any dissatisfaction among the crew. And, anyway, sailors usually wait until they reach some port before they take French leave. By Jove! I have it,” he cried. “It’s those scoundrels that tried to rob the Egyptian.”
Don jumped to his feet.
“Do you think so?” he cried.
“That’s it, for a thousand dollars!” declared the officer emphatically. “They’ve managed somehow to find a hiding place in a hold, though I don’t see for the life of me how they did it. They probably knew that we’d pass close to the shore when we got to the Straits, and they decided to make a swim for it.”
“Couldn’t you get out a boat and capture them?” asked Don, chagrined at the thought of the rascals’ escape.