It was then that they became aware of a figure moving in the shadows aft. Hal jumped from his chair and was after it in a flash. However, the figure eluded him, and though he searched the deck and near saloon for a full five minutes he returned without a clue.

“Not a soul anywhere, Unk,” he announced breathlessly, “I circled the whole blame deck too. Didn’t even run into a sailor. Funny. Were we talking very loud that time?”

“Not above a whisper. Hardly that. I dare say one would have had to come right up to our chairs to catch a word. Regardless of your hunches, Hal, I never take chances in talking—not anywhere.”

“I know—I just thought maybe ... say, Unk, is the Brazil-nut’s cabin the fourth one from ours?”

“I believe so. Why?”

“Just that there wasn’t a light or anything. But then, maybe he went to bed.”

“Even a Brazilian like Señor Goncalves has to go to bed, you know.”

Hal smiled good-naturedly at the playful thrust and shook back an errant lock of hair from his forehead.

“Even so, Unk, my impression of him is that he goes to bed when other people don’t. Don’t ask me why I think it. I couldn’t tell you. That bird is a riddle to me.”

“And you’re going to solve him yourself, I suppose?”

“Me?” asked Hal. He laughed. “I’d like to, but, who knows?”

Who, indeed!

CHAPTER II AN INTRUDER

AN INTRUDER

As they undressed for bed they heard the throb of the engines cease and, after the captain gave some orders in blatant Portuguese, the boat slowed down and stopped. An obliging steward informed Hal that they were anchoring at the entrance to the Narrows, waiting for daybreak before they dared pass through its tiny channels.

“Then that means we’ll have a nice, quiet night to sleep,” said Denis Keen, stifling a yawn. “Those engines are the noisiest things in Christendom.”

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