red upholstery on
their chins," averred Rector.

"I know that, but this one is the fellow, all right," declared Tad in a
confident tone.

"You know something!" exclaimed Ned.

"I do. Don't speak so loudly. Someone might hear. I heard someone
passing along the deck just below us a moment ago."

"No one down there could distinguish what we were saying," answered Ned,
as the two drew back farther between the steel bases of the two funnels.

"Well?" urged Ned.

"The man referred to by Captain Petersen is Sandy Ketcham, the tall,
lank fellow, with the squinty eyes and the stoop shoulders. He has a
trick of peering up from under his eyelids when he looks at you."

"Oh! I know the one you mean, and I don't like his looks. How did you
know?"

"Since the Captain made that remark about 'Red Whiskers' I have been
taking an interest in every man on the boat who wore red whiskers," said
Tad. "I tried to decide, in my own mind, which of them was the right
one."

"So did I," admitted Ned. "But I got all mixed up. If you succeeded in
picking out the right one you are mighty sharp. I wish I were as keen as
you."

"Keen? Not a bit of it! It was a pure accident that I found out. I just
blundered on the truth last night. The man I had picked out wasn't the
fellow at all. I had the wrong man, so you see I am not so smart as you
thought. You remember you left Stacy and myself sitting on a bale of
freight at the rear end of the boat when you went down late last
evening?"

"Yes. Chunky was half asleep."

"Exactly. Well, I shook him up a few moments later and he went below
grumbling because I wouldn't let him sleep when he was so comfortable.
He was liable to catch cold in the damp air. Then I went to sleep
myself," admitted Butler. "I'm not much of an adviser, am I?"

"Go on," urged Rector.

"Something awakened me. Two men were talking nearby. I couldn't see
them, but could hear every word they said. One of the two I recognized
by his voice. The other I was unable to place. I got him placed right
to-day though, when I heard him talking on deck. They are a precious
pair of rascals, Ned. Perhaps it is considered fair enough up here to do
those things, but I just can't hold myself when I see crookedness going
on."

"You haven't said what it was about yet," reminded Ned.

"They were plotting against Darwood."

"You don't say?"

"Yes, they were."

"How?"

"I am not going to tell you now. The question is, ought I to tel