As he leaned over the rail he felt someone stir near him.
Glancing up quickly, the Circus Boy started almost guiltily.
There, beside him, sat Diaz on a camp stool with his feet on the
steamer's rail, calmly watching the loading operations on the
deck below.
"Good evening, Mr. Diaz," said Phil quickly recovering
his self-possession.
Diaz uttered an unintelligible grunt, but did not deign to turn
his head.
"Hey, Phil, is that you?" called the voice of Teddy from further
down the deck.
"Yes," answered Phil, rising and moving aft. "How long have you
been here?"
"About an hour."
"Do you know who is sitting over there?"
"Over where?"
"There by the rail?"
"Sure, I know. That's our old friend Diaz," grinned Teddy.
"How long has he been there?"
"He came in when I did."
"An hour ago?"
"Yes."
Phil was perplexed.
"I do not understand it at all."
"Don't understand what?"
"Something that occurred this evening."
Teddy's curiosity was aroused.
"What is it all about, Phil?"
"I should prefer not to talk about it here, Teddy.
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