"You are quite sure, of course, that they are officers of a transport?" said the elder, observing with attention.
"Quite, my commandant. From the Tanganyika, arrived to-day. The little one I know well. The other I observed upon the forecastle as she anchored."
"But what are they doing in company with him?"
The lieutenant raised his shoulders.
"I imagine, my commandant, that they do a little business in hashish. But in any case it is not what you imagine. The English do not spy."
"But Dainopoulos may use them, eh?"
"Impossible, my commandant. You do not know them. I do. As you are aware, I was in the Crédit Lyonnais in Lombard Street. If Mr. Dainopoulos attempted to enlist their services they would batter his head in with his own narghileh. They have no compunction about robbing their government by peculation, but treachery is not their métier. And our friend knows it quite well."
"Business," observed Mr. Dainopoulos suddenly, "is very bad."
Mr. Bates seemed very amused at this and leaned over the dirty marble-topped table.
"Count us both in, my friend here and me, for the same as last time. How about it, eh?"