Chapter X. Mysterious Passengers

Ned and Tom did not escape the usual commotion that always attends the sailing of a large steamer. The people on the dock were waving farewells to those on the boat, and those on the deck of the Maderia shook their handkerchiefs, their steamer rugs, their hands, umbrellas--in short anything to indicate their feelings. It was getting dark, but big electric lights made the dock and the steamer's deck brilliantly aglow.

The big whistle was blowing at intervals to warn other craft that the steamer was coming out of her slip. Fussy little tugs were pushing their blunt noses against the sides of the Maderia to help her and, in brief, there was not a little excitement.

"Bless my steamer chair!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "We're really off at last! And now for the land of--"

"Hush!" exclaimed Tom, who stood near the odd gentleman. "You're forgetting. Some one might hear you."

"That's so, Tom. Bless my soul! I'll keep quiet after this."

"Mah golly!" gasped Eradicate as he saw the open water between the ship and the deck, "I can't git back now if I wanter--but I doan't wanter. I hope yo' father takes good care ob Boomerang, Massa Tom."

"Oh, I guess he will. But come on, Ned, we'll go to the purser's office now."

"What for? Is something wrong?" asked Mr. Damon.

"No, we just want to see if--er--if some friends of ours are on board," replied the young inventor, with a quick glance at his chum.

"Very well," assented Mr. Damon. "I'll wait for you on deck here. It's quite interesting to watch the sights of the harbor."

As for these same sights they possessed no attractions for the two lads at present. They were too intent on learning whether or not their suspicions regarding the Fogers were correct.

"Now if they are on board," said Tom, as they made their way to the purser's office, "it only means one thing--that they're following us to get at the secret of the city of gold," and Tom whispered this last, even though there seemed to be no one within hearing, for nearly all the passengers were up on deck.

"That's right," agreed Ned. "Of course there's a bare chance, if those two were the Fogers, that Mr. Foger is going off to try and make another fortune. But more than likely they're on our trail, Tom."

"If it's them--yes."

"Hum, Foger--no, I don't think I havs any passengers of that name," said the purser slowly, when Tom had put the question. "Let's see, Farday, Fenton, Figaro, Flannigan, Ford, Foraham, Fredericks--those are all the names in the 'Fs'. No Fogers among them. Why, are you looking for some friends of yours, boys?"

"Not exactly friends," replied Tom slowly, "but we know them, and we thought