"But they are all here," the bandmaster answered, glancing round the
poop.
"The man had a flute."
"But we have no flute-player."
"Then he must have been a passenger," said Dick, who hurried to the
gangway.
After hailing his fireman to bring the launch alongside, he threw a quick
glance about. The shore boatmen were pushing their craft abreast of the
ladder and shouting as they got in each other's way, but one boat had
already left the ship and was pulling fast towards the harbor. There
seemed to be only one man on board besides her crew, and Dick had no
doubt that he was the flute-player. He must be followed, since it was
important to find out whom he met and if, as Dick suspected, he meant to
send off a telegram. But the liner's captain must be warned, and Dick
turned hastily around. The windlass was rattling and the bridge, on which
he could see the captain's burly figure, was some distance off, while the
passage between the gangway and deckhouse was blocked by the departing
guests.
The anchor would probably be up before he could push his way through the
crowd, and if he was not carried off to sea, he would certainly lose
sight of the spy. Writing a line or two on the leaf of his pocket-book,
he tore it out and held it near a Creole steward boy.
"Take that to the sobrecargo at once," he cried, and seeing the boy stoop
to pick up the note, which fell to the deck, ran down the ladder.
He had, however, to wait a minute while the fireman brought the launch
alongside between the other boats, and when they pushed off Don
Sebastian, scrambling across one of the craft, jumped on board. He smiled
when Dick looked at him with annoyed surprise.
"I think my business is yours, but there is no time for explanations," he
said. "Tell your man to go full speed."
The launch quivered and leaped ahead with the foam curling at her bows,
and Dick did not look round when he heard an expostulating shout. Jake
and Bethune must get ashore as they could; his errand was too important
to stop for them, particularly as he could no longer see the boat in
front. She had crossed the glittering belt of moonlight and vanished into
the shadow near the mole. Her occupant had had some minutes' start and
had probably landed, but it might be possible to find out where he had
gone.
"Screw the valve wide open," Dick told the fireman.
The rattle of the engine quickened a little, the launch lifted her bows,
and her stern sank into the hollow of a following wave. When she steamed
up the harbor a boat lay near some steps, and as the launch slackened
speed Dick asked her crew which way their passenger had gone.