“Do so while you are having something to eat. I wish to think things over.” I left him at the work and going on deck nearly tumbled over Burroughs, who was staring intently at some object through the most powerful glass we had on the yacht. “Don’t show yourself, Ralph. Come here a moment,” and he pulled me under the lee of the pinnace behind which he was screening his action. “What is it?” “You’ve infected me with some of your suspicions, and as you said last night about yourself, I’m either a stupid ass or I’ve made a discovery which may be important. I’ve been watching the people on that boat there--the one with the grey hull and sharp lines. She’s called the _Rampallo_. She came in yesterday, and the old man tells me the whole of her crew were discharged soon after you sent for me.” “Well, what’s that to us? We don’t want any hands.” “But she hasn’t taken on another.” “I suppose her skipper or owner can please himself.” “But the skipper went with the crew as well. And when I came off this morning to fetch the launch, I saw that tall young dandy on board her--the fellow who was out with us.” “The devil you did!” I exclaimed, with suddenly roused interest. “There have been two or three boats out to her this morning, and what can any one be wanting in a yacht with no crew on board?” “Let me have a squint at her,” I said, taking the glass and training it on her. She was a nice craft, about 250 tonnage; her sharp lines suggested a good turn of speed; and everything about her was as smart as one expects to see it in a private yacht. “What drew my attention to her,” said Burroughs at my elbow, “was that I saw some one carefully scanning us through a glass, and I thought I’d return the compliment.” “What was he like?” The description he gave fitted no one whom I knew. “He’s been at it more than once since. The old man has noticed it too.” “Are you sure that you recognized that young fellow?” I asked as I handed him the glass, not having seen any one on the yacht. “I’d eat my sea-boots if it wasn’t.” “Well, keep an eye skinned for her. It’s very singular.” I took his advice not to show myself and sat down on the other side of the deck and lit a cigar to think things over. I recalled Vasco’s request for the loan of the _Stella_ and the hesitating way in which he had explained that he had abandoned the idea of taking his companions for a day’s cruise. Why was he on that other yacht? For a time my mind was so thronged with the crowd of suggestions arising out of Dagara’s statement, the events of the last few days, and now this enigma of a crewless yacht, that I had the greatest difficulty in picking a course. In my present mood I was ready to see matter for suspicion in anything, however trivial. Presently Burroughs called to me. “He’s there now, Ralph.” It was Vasco, sure enough. The glass showed his features plainly; and while I was watching, two other men came up on the deck and all three went ashore in a launch.