“He seems to have taken a great fancy to draw poker.  ‘Pocaire’ is what he calls it.  He pretended at first that he didn’t know much of anything about the game, but, if I am not mistaken, he’s an old stager at it.  I watched the party playing in the smoking-room last night.”

“Who played?” asked Bruce.

“The Frenchman, a rather sporty young fellow named Bloodgood, a small, bespectacled man, well fitted with the name of Slush, and an Englishman by the name of Hazleton.”

“That’s the crowd that played in the Frenchman’s stateroom to-day,” groaned Rattleton from his berth.

“Played in the stateroom?” exclaimed Frank.  “I wonder why they didn’t play in the smoking-room?”

“Don’t know,” said Harry; “but I fancy there was a rather big game on, and you know the Frenchman has the biggest stateroom on the boat, so there was plenty of room for them.  They could play there without interruption.”

“There seems to be something mysterious about that Frenchman,” said Frank.

“I think there’s something mysterious about several passengers on this boat,” grunted Browning.  “I haven’t seen much of this young fellow Bloodgood, but he strikes me as a mystery.”

“Why?”

“Well he seems to have money to burn, and I don’t understand why such a fellow did not take passage on a regular liner.”

“As far as that goes,” smiled Merry, “I presume some people might think it rather singular that we did not cross the pond in a regular liner; but then they might suppose it was a case of economy with us.”

While they were talking there came a rap on their door which Frank threw open.

Just outside stood a young man with a flushed face and distressed appearance.  He was dressed in a plaid suit, and wore a red four-in-hand necktie, in which blazed a huge diamond.  There were two large solitaire rings on his left hand, and he wore a heavy gold chain strung across his vest.

“Beg your pardon, dear boys,” he drawled.  “Hope I’m not intruding.”

Then he walked in and closed the door.

“My name’s Bloodgood,” he said—­“Raymond Bloodgood.  I’ve seen you fellows together, and you seem like a jolly lot.  Heard you singing, you know.  Great voices—­good singing.”

Then he stopped speaking, and they stared at him, wondering what he was driving at.  For a moment there was an awkward pause, and then Bloodgood went on: 

“I was up pretty late last night, you know.  Had a little game in the smoking-room.  Plenty of booze, and all that, and I’m awfully rocky to-day.  Got a splitting headache.  Didn’t know but some of you had a bromo seltzer, or something of the sort.  You look like a crowd that finds such things handy occasionally.”

At this Frank laughed quietly, but Diamond looked angry and indignant.

“What do you take us for?” exclaimed the Virginian, warmly.  “Do you think we are a lot of boozers?”