In silence she went to the door. In silence Barry watched her, realizing anew what a striking looking young woman she was.
The door closed, the spring-latch clicked into place, and she was gone. Gone without locking him in with his keys as she had promised.
Barry lowered his hands and stepped toward the door. He didn’t think she would shoot him if he looked out after her. If she did, she’d probably miss. He’d take the chance at any rate. He jerked open the door and looked out.
The corridor was empty.
Barry glared up and down, and then stepped out. She had not been out of his sight many seconds. Certainly not long enough to get out of the corridor. And yet she was gone. It could only mean that she had gone into one of the staterooms along the corridor. In that case she might have been telling the truth.
But, if she had been telling the truth, what had she drawn the automatic on him for? Why had she been so eager to get away? And why had she lied about her room? There was no chance of her being in with the hardware man from Chicago. Barry had been in that cabin himself. There was never a trace of perfume there, never a chance that a woman could be traveling with the fellow.
Barry turned back, biting his lip thoughtfully, frowning. What could it mean?
Chapter II
More Mystery
He went over his luggage to see if she had been in it. The two kit bags had been locked. They were still locked.
As Barry bent over the kit bags, the sheen of light on metal, in the corner where the girl had been standing, caught his eye. It was a small safety-razor blade, lying there on the rug where she had dropped it. And she had dropped it. The room had been freshly cleaned when he went out. In addition, the blade was a different brand than he used.
He picked it up with thumb and forefinger, and smiled slightly as he saw that the sheen of the metal was marked plainly with finger prints. The girl in black had slipped up on one point. She had left behind as evidence of her visit, proof more damning than the word of half a dozen witnesses.
Barry found a small match box in one of the bureau drawers, and emptied it, and carefully dropped the blade inside. He had no definite plans as to what he would do with it, wanted only to have it safe if he did need it.
And as he closed the match box and laid it on the top of the bureau, he puzzled over the use the girl in black could have had for that razor blade. It was the last thing in the world he would have looked for her to leave. What had she been doing with it, or what had she intended to do?
Cut the kit bags open?
She had evidently had plenty of time to do so if she cared to — and had not.
Steps sounded outside in the passage. Some one knocked on a door. Voices followed. There was more knocking, more talking. It moved nearer.
Barry took notice after a few minutes, during which he had been sitting on the edge of the bed, thoughtfully smoking, pondering. Something was up out in the corridor. He opened his own door and looked out. Three men were standing before a door, on which one had just knocked.
Two of the men were ship’s officers — the mate and the purser. The other man was a short, unassuming, grizzled person, in the fifties. He wore a black derby, striped suit, in a style decidedly too young for his age, and chewed a dead cigar, that had never been lighted.
This man looked around as Barry’s door opened. He spoke without taking the cigar from the corner of his mouth. “Want to see you, mister, wait a minute.”
The mate knocked several more times on the door, but no one came out. The purser made a mark on the list that he carried.
The short grizzled person came to Barry, biting on the end of the dead cigar. “Looking for a young woman dressed in black,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. “Seen her any time during the trip?”
Barry was startled, but he managed to cover most of it, although he had a feeling that the other was looking past all barriers and seeing what was down in his thoughts. “Woman in black?” Barry asked in genuine surprise.
The other nodded. His eyes narrowed a trifle. “That’s right,” he assented. “Young woman in black. Where did you see her?”
By that time Barry had control of his emotions. He said with a poker face: “What makes you think I saw a young woman in black? I didn’t say so.”
The mate and the purser had come over also, and were standing behind the grizzled man, watching. Barry looked at the mate. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked coolly.
“There seems to be a young woman on board who is wanted at the captain’s cabin,” the mate replied noncommittally. “She was seen in this passage a short while ago. We are making a check of the cabins to see if she is in them, or has been seen.”
“Hasn’t she paid her fare?” Barry asked.
“I can’t say,” the mate replied.
The purser said nothing.
The small, grizzled man tipped his derby back a little farther and shifted the dead cigar to the other corner of his mouth. He seemed to be getting bored with the matter. “Well, have you seen her?” he asked.
Barry had made up his mind in the few moments he had sparred with them. She had been a plucky girl, able to take care of herself. If they wanted her, let them get her, especially since they wouldn’t tell him why they wanted her.
One of the three knew, probably all. Certainly the short grizzled man, who was not even a member of the crew, or at least did not function so. Barry had seen him several times since the boat sailed, sitting around, chewing a dead cigar, saying nothing, seemingly bored with life.
“I can’t tell you where to find such a young woman,” Barry told them truthfully. “And I certainly haven’t seen such a one in this passage. I’ll keep an eye out for her.”
“Thanks,” said the other. He turned away to the next door, where the mate was already knocking.
Barry stood there and watched with interest.
The two ladies who had the next cabin were in their forties, modishly dressed always, great bridge players. One of them was in. Her voice sounded plainly. “No, I have not seen such a person.” The door closed with a little slam.
The next door was opened by a man. He, too, disclaimed any knowledge of the girl. The hardware salesman from Chicago was in the third. “Me?” he said loudly. “No! I haven’t seen a young woman in black — and I hope to the good Lord I don’t. Is there anything else you want?”
The mate answered him politely while the purser made another check on the list he carried. The third man chewed on the end of the cigar in silence.
At that moment the second door down, on the other side, opened. The young woman in black stood there, eyeing the three men.
The grizzled man took the cigar from his mouth for the first time. “Hello, Olga,” he said with a distinct air of satisfaction in his voice. “I thought we would root you out of one of these cabins.”
Olga looked, as he spoke, down the hall and saw Barry standing in his doorway. No expression appeared on her face at all. She might never have seen him before. But their eyes locked together for an instant. Barry had a distinct feeling that she was smiling inwardly at him. Then she turned the same blank gaze on the man who had addressed her.
“Do I understand that you want to see me, Harris?” she asked crisply, and not at all uncomfortably. Barry was interested to note that she seemed as much master of the situation as any of the three men who faced her.
Harris put the cigar back in his mouth, and nodded.
“Captain wants to see you in his cabin,” he said.
She looked for the briefest moment down the hall again, as though she was studying Barry. Harris noted it with his sharp, shrewd eyes. “You seem kind of interested in the young man,” he observed. “Is he with you?”