y their baggage at the door, while Jeremy made his way from one group
to another, inquiring for Captain Ghent of the _Indian Queen_. Several
of the mariners nodded at mention of the ship, but none could give him
word of the skipper's whereabouts.

As he was turning to go out he noticed a man drinking alone at a table
in the darkest corner. His eyes were fixed moodily on his glass and he
did not look up. Jeremy shivered, took a step nearer, and almost cried
out, for he had caught a glimpse of a livid, diagonal scar cutting
across the nose from eyebrow to chin. It was such a scar as could belong
to only one man on earth. Jeremy retreated to a darker part of the room
and watched till the man lifted his head. It was Pharaoh Daggs and none
other.

A moment later the boy had hurried to Bob outside and told him his news.
"If we can find Ghent," said Bob, "he will be able to summon soldiers
and have him placed under arrest."

They hastened along the river front for a hundred yards or more and came
to the "Bull and Fish." A man in a blue cloth coat was standing by the
door, looking up and down the street. He gave a hail of greeting as they
came up. It was Captain Ghent.

"I was just going down to the "Three Whales" thinking you might have
stopped there," he said. Bob told him their news and the skipper's face
grew grave. "Better leave the bags here for the present," he suggested
and then, after a moment's quiet talk with the landlord, he led the way
toward the other tavern. On the way he stopped a red-jacketed soldier
who was patrolling the dock. After a word or two had been exchanged the
soldier fell in beside them, and just as they reached the inn door two
more hurried up.

"Come in with me, Jeremy, and point out the man," said Captain Ghent.

The lad's heart beat like a triphammer as he entered the tavern once
more. A silence fell on the room when the three soldiers were observed.
Jeremy crossed toward the dark corner. The table was empty. He looked
quickly about at the faces of the drinkers, but Daggs was not there.
"He's gone," he said in a disappointed voice.

The innkeeper came forward, wiping his hands on his apron. "That fellow
with the scar?" he said. "He went out of here some five minutes ago."

"Which way?" asked Ghent. But no one in the room could say.

They passed out again, and Ghent smiled reassuringly at the boys.
"Well," he said, "like as not he'll never cross our path again, so it's
only one rogue th