spy, as that Adolph Tuessig surely is, we can't be positive; but I wouldn't trust him a minute."
"Tom, the girl was almost broken hearted. She isn't the kind to fancy playing a double part, and deceiving other people. Any one must see her eyes are as frank and truthful as can be."
"Did she tell you anything about her guardian, Jack—whether he might really be a naturalized citizen of Uncle Sam, or just sailing under false colors and a borrowed passport?"
"I wanted to ask her that, but say, I didn't have the nerve, she seemed to feel so unhappy. Then, as if she couldn't stand it any longer, she rushed away from me and descended to the other deck. When I followed she had disappeared from view, and I suppose had sought refuge in her stateroom, for she has one, you know, shared by that Red Cross nurse over yonder."
"Now, I've got something to tell you that may be of interest," remarked Tom, in turn. "You remember that we marked the stateroom occupied by that mysterious sick passenger who has never come on deck in the daytime since boarding the boat?"
"Yes," Jack instantly snapped, "it was Number Seventy-seven, for I made a mental note of it. And a dozen times I've passed out of my
