Part 12 (1/2)
”You may get into trouble.”
”Oh, I guess not. If I do I can stand it. I want to solve this mystery.” Tom did put his question to one of the dining saloon stewards and it created no suspicions.
”Ah, yes, I guess you must mean Mr. Wilson and his son.” spoke the steward when he had referred to a list that corresponded with the numbers of the vacant places at the table. ”They have their meals served in their stateroom.”
”Why?” asked Tom, ”are they ill?”
”I really couldn't say, sir. They prefer it that way, and the captain consented to it from the first.”
”But I should think they'd want to get out for a breath of air,” put in Ned. ”I can't stay below decks very long.”
”They may come out at night,” suggested the steward. ”Some of our travelers think they are less likely to be seasick if they come out at night. They don't see the motion of the waves then.”
”Guess that's it,” agreed Tom with a wink at Ned. ”Much obliged.
Glad we're not seasick,” and he linked his arm in that of his chum's and marched him off.
”Why the wink?” asked Ned, when they were out of earshot of the steward.
”That was to tip you off to say nothing more. I've got a plan I'm going to work.”
”What is it?”
”Well, we know who the mysterious ones are, anyhow--at least we know their names--Wilson.”
”It may not be the right one.”
”That doesn't make any difference. I can find out their stateroom by looking at the pa.s.senger list.”
”What good will that do.”
”Lots. I'm going to keep a watch on that stateroom until I get a good look at the people in it. And if they only come out at night, which it begins to look like, I'm going to do some night watching.
This thing has got to be settled, Ned. Our trip to the city of gold is too important to risk having a mysterious couple on our trail--when that same couple may be the Fogers. I'm going to do some detective work, Ned!”
CHAPTER XI
THE MIDNIGHT ALARM
”Whew! What a lot of 'em!”
”Bless my fish line! It's a big school!”
”Look how they turn over and over, and leap from the water.”
”By golly, dere is suttinly some fish dere!”
These were the exclamations made by our four friends a few days later, as they leaned over the rail of the Maderia and watched a big school of porpoises gamboling about in the warm waters of the gulf stream. It was the second porpoise school the s.h.i.+p had come up with on the voyage, and this was a much larger one than the first, so that the pa.s.sengers crowded up to see the somewhat novel sight.
”If they were only good eating now, we might try for a few,”