Willie went straight to Simonski’s stateroom, and after listening intently at his door for a moment, knocked on it. There was no response. Willie turned the door-knob and pushed. The door opened. A man’s coat lay on the bed. Close beside the bed was a leather hand-bag. In a corner stood an umbrella. Evidently the occupant had everything prepared for a quick debarkation. That didn’t prove anything, of course, for every home comer was eager to get ashore. Yet the quicker one could have his luggage examined, the better was his chance of covering up any little irregularities. With such a great crowd of passengers to handle, the inspectors would do their work hastily. Willie fairly itched to open the bag, but he knew it would be dangerous to touch anything. Simonski might return and catch him in the act. Then his usefulness would be ended. So he withdrew from the room and shut the door. He had not touched a thing. He did not believe Simonski could have any possible way to tell whether or not any one had entered his room. He wondered if the reason Simonski had left his door unlocked was to give an investigator a chance to go through his baggage. A clever rogue might well do such a thing. Willie made his way forward, in search of Simonski. The ship was as busy as a beehive. Passengers were hastening back and forth along the corridors. Stewards and cabin boys were assisting with the final packing, and carrying luggage forward toward the gangway. Friends were calling to one another in loud tones or gathered in groups, chatting busily. Forward, both within the ship and on the decks, hundreds of passengers were massed. Willie moved about through the throng, looking for Simonski. Mr. King had given him a very clear description of the man, and Willie had no difficulty in recognizing him when at last he found him. At least, he saw a man who answered the description exactly. If Willie had hunted a week to find a word to describe the man, he could not have found one that better described Simonski than the Chief’s term, “slick.” It fitted the man in every particular. He had black, piercing eyes. His hair was carefully cut and slicked down as though it had been oiled and brushed tight to his scalp. He had had the cleanest of clean shaves. His hands were spotlessly white, and his nails were carefully manicured and highly polished. An enormous diamond sparkled on one finger. His clothes were loud. He wore a black and white checked suit, with a white edging about the vest, and a flaming purple tie, which was ornamented with another flashing diamond. A black, curved handled cane hung from the crook of his left arm.