Part 33

"Agree with anything he says. You know!" he muttered.

The Duke was beside himself with rage.

"Answer my question! Is this man Warren the Ghost Breaker?"

"Aw, Dook, old top, that's all right. Don't worry about it!... Sure he's a ghost breaker, ain't he, Jim?"

"Best bet you know," replied obliging Jim. "He's the prince of all ghost breakers!"

The Duke smote his breast furiously, while the detectives smiled sympathetically into Jarvis' serious face.

"Sacristi! Am I Carlos Hernando, Duke of Alva, to be mocked at by two grinning bull-necked scullions?"

"Whatever you say goes, Dook!" amiably replied the first detective.

A ship's officer appeared on the promenade deck and called through the open door at them.

"Hurry up, if you're going ashore with the pilot, officers."

The two men bowed with their best imitation of gallantry, to the Princess Maria Theresa of Aragon. Nita, standing in the vestibule, sent a melting glance at the faithful Jim, who stumbled over the treacherous cabin threshold.

The superior of the two shook hands pompously with Jarvis, whose left hand was still in his pocket.

"Be kind to the little rascal, Doc. He might not get such good treatment from them Scotland Yard bulls, on the other side. They don't understand human nature like us fellers--they ain't got no education over there. Good-by, Doc! Don't let your foot slip!"

He turned toward the Duke, as he passed through the door.

"You're all right, Dook, old boy, if you do have fits! Ghost Breaker--ha, ha!"

Carlos started toward the other door, with a bound.

"It's not too late. I'll see the captain."

Jarvis, sitting on the trunk, whistled with typical American lack of reverence. As the nobleman turned about, he found himself looking into the barrel of the revolver. A quizzical smile played about the firm lines of the Kentuckian's mouth.

"Don't be in too big a hurry, your Excellency. The captain is apt to be busy just now. And besides, he may not believe in ghosts!"

A WAGER WITH THE DUKE

What a curious sea voyage!

The Duke's attempt to warn the captain of the nature of this one particular passenger never eventualized. When the Mauretania had finally left behind all sight of America, Jarvis relaxed his severity.

"You may enjoy yourself, Excellency," he said, as he put away the revolver. "But I would like to speak to you alone. As the representative of the Princess, on a most important mission, I am compelled to look after her interests in a definite manner."

He faced the girl meaningly.

"Will you excuse us for a moment's interchange of pleasantries?"

She nodded, and retired to her bedroom with Nita.

"What do you want, you scoundrel? I know that you are an impostor--a make-believe, and worse!"

"Take it easy, Duke. I'm really not too enthusiastic over you. But this Colt revolver is not a make-believe. I am only going to bother your aristocratic memory with this one little idea--that if there is any reporting to the captain or ship's officers, to interfere with my services as Ghost Breaker for the royal house of Aragon, there is going to be a nice band concert in the public square of your native town--and the special number on the programme will be the 'Dead March from Saul,' with pretty black crêpe on the ducal doorknob! Do you catch my meaning?"