“Is that so?” smiled Merry.  “Queer, I never heard of him.  I suppose he told you this?”

“Oh, yes.  He is a very fine—­gentleman.  Ah—­did Mr. Bloodgood invite—­er—­any of you to come into the—­ah—­game?”

Frank fancied he saw a sudden light.  Was it possible Mr. Slush was looking for “suckers?”

Was it possible he had been sent there to inveigle them into the party, so that some sharp might “skin” them?  It did not seem improbable.

Harry seemed to catch onto the same idea, for he popped up in his bunk suddenly, but a sudden roll of the steamer caused him to sink down again with a groan.

Diamond’s eyes began to glitter.  He, too, fancied he saw the little game.

“No,” said Merry, slowly, “he did not invite any of us to come in.”

The little man seemed relieved.

“I—­I didn’t know,” he faltered.  “If he had—­I—­I was going to say something.  Perhaps it is not—­necessary.”

“Perhaps not,” said Frank; “but it may not do any hurt to say it.”

“And it may do some hurt—­to you,” muttered Diamond under his breath.  “I will kick this fellow!”

But, to the surprise of all, the superstitious man cackled out a short, broken laugh, and said: 

“Oh, I was going to—­to warn you—­that’s all.  It—­it’s liable to be a pretty—­stiff game.  I thought it would be a—­good thing for you to—­keep out of it.  It started—­light, but it’s working—­up—­right along.  Almost any time somebody is liable to—­to propose throwing off the—­the limit, and then somebody is going to get—­hurt.  If you are—­not in it, why you won’t be in any—­danger.”

There was a silence.  The four youths looked at the visitor and then at each other.

What did it mean?

If he was playing them for “suckers,” surely he was doing it in a queer manner.

“Thank you,” said Frank, stiffly.  “You are kind!”

“More than kind!” muttered Diamond.

“Don’t mention it,” said the little man, trying to look pleasant, but making a dismal failure.  “I—­I dont’ like to see respectable young men caught in a—­trap.  That’s all.  Thought I’d tell you.  Didn’t know that you would—­thank me.  Took my chances on that.  Well, I think I’ll—­be going.”

He turned, falteringly, seemed about to say something more, opened the door part way, hesitated, then said “good-day,” and went out.

CHAPTER VI.

The cargo of the “Eagle.”

“Well?”

“Well!”

“Well!”

The same word, but from three different persons, and spoken in three different inflections.

“Will somebody please hit me with something hard!” murmured Jack.

“What does it mean, Merry?” asked Rattleton.

“You may search me!” exclaimed Frank, in rather expressive slang, something in which he seldom indulged, unless under great provocation.