"It's just like being in another country," Walter whispered to his chum.
"Yes, but I don't like the attention we seem to receive," Charley replied. "Those fellows are staring at us as though there was something wrong in our being here."
The Greeks gathered around the other tables indeed seemed more than casually interested in the little party. They stared frequently at them and their new acquaintance, and exchanged significant glances and low words with each other.
"I guess we appear as odd to them as they do to us," Walter said, carelessly. "There is a man who is not a Greek. That fellow leaning against the end of the counter in the corner."
The man indicated was unmistakably an American. He was short, heavily-built and had a determined, aggressive face. He was engaged in a heated discussion with the proprietor of the cafe and his heavy face was flushed with anger. As the boys gazed curiously, he brought down his clenched fist on the counter with a force that shattered some of the dishes piled upon it.
"You needn't smirk, grin, and make excuses," he thundered at the suave, smiling Greek. "You've got to pay me that bill you owe me. It's been standing for months and I happen to know that you are making money all the time, hand over fist. It's no use pretending you don't understand me," he shouted, as the smiling Greek shrugged his shoulders. "You know what I say. If you don't come up with the money by to-morrow night I'll close up this place and have you prosecuted for obtaining goods under false pretences. And it will not be any use for you to try your nice little Greek trick of a knife in my back in the dark. I go heeled and I don't go to sleep when I walk this street. The fellow who tries that trick on me will stop enough lead to start a cartridge factory."
He turned and was walking towards the door when his glance rested for a moment on the boys and their companions. His glance swept swiftly over each member of the little party. He paused, hesitated a moment, then turning, walked swiftly towards their table.
Captain Roberts rose hastily at his approach. "There's a friend of mine over there," he said hurriedly, "who I want to speak to. I'll be back in a minute."
The approaching stranger noted his departure with a grim smile. He stopped beside the Captain and stood gazing down for one brief minute.
"Are you fools or strangers?" he demanded, crisply.