lked for some time on the causes
which had brought the scum of the seven seas to the Isthmus, and then Ned
Nestor interrupted the talk by inviting them all to the stateroom he
occupied in common with Frank Shaw.

When all were seated on chairs and bunks Ned opened the door and looked
out on the passage which ran along in front of the apartment. When he
turned back into the room there was a humorous twinkle in his eyes.

"His Nobbs is in sight," he said.

"The same party?" asked Frank.

"The same dusky gentleman who has followed us since the night of the theft
of the emerald necklace," Ned replied.

"He ought to receive a Carnegie medal for always being on the spot," Frank
said.

"We ought to turn the hose on him," Jimmie corrected.

"We should feel lost without him," laughed George Tolford. "When I first
saw him in the newspaper building, while you were investigating the chaos
of papers in Mr. Shaw's rooms," he went on, "I had a hunch that we
shouldn't be able to lose him."

"Well, we haven't been able to lose him," Peter Fenton said. "He reminds
me, the way he floats about, of the ghost of some pirate who sailed about
the Spanish Main four hundred years ago in a long, low, rakish craft
adorned with a black flag."

"I saw him in the newspaper building that night," Jimmie said, "an' he
looked glad because we got no clues there."

"Why didn't Ned have him arrested in New York?" asked Jack Bosworth.

"What for?" demanded Jimmie.

"For making a nuisance of himself. Then he couldn't have followed us on
board the ship. Also, he might have been able to get a little sleep
nights."

"I reckon we have kept him going," Frank observed, with a laugh.

Ever since the night of the robbery the man called "His Nobbs" for want of
a better name had kept Ned Nestor in sight most of the time. He had
followed him home after the profitless visit to the newspaper office on
the night of the theft, had chased about after him while the details of
the trip to Panama were arranged the next day, and had turned up on the
ship after she was under way.

The fellow did not seem to be overly anxious to keep his watchfulness a
secret. He acted like any first cabin passenger on the ship. But, somehow,
he managed to keep Ned in view most of the time. Now and then he was
caught watching the door of Ned's stateroom. He never spoke to the boy,
and never even looked at him when the two passed one another.

Taking advantage of this preference