the Kid saying:

"You can beat the game this way. Let John buy you a ticket to the
Piræus. If you go from one Greek port to another you don't need a
visé. But, if you book from here to Italy, you must get a permit
from the Italian consul, and our consul, and the police. The plot
is to get out of the war zone, isn't it? Well, then, my dope is to
get out quick, and map the rest of your trip when you're safe in
Athens."

It was no business of mine, but I had to look up. The stranger was
now pacing the floor. I noticed that while his face was almost
black with tan, his upper lip was quite white. I noticed also that
he had his hands in the pockets of one of John's blue serge suits,
and that the pink silk shirt he wore was one that once had
belonged to the Kid. Except for the pink shirt, in the appearance
of the young man there was nothing unusual. He was of a familiar
type. He looked like a young business man from our Middle West,
matter-of-fact and unimaginative, but capable and self-reliant. If
he had had a fountain pen in his upper waistcoat pocket, I would
have guessed he was an insurance agent, or the publicity man for a
new automobile. John picked up his hat, and said, "That's good
advice. Give me your steamer ticket, Fred, and I'll have them
change it." He went out; but he did not ask Fred to go with him.

Uncle Jim rose, and murmured something about the Café Roma, and
tea. But neither did he invite Fred to go with him. Instead, he
told him to make himself at home, and if he wanted anything the
waiter would bring it from the café downstairs. Then the Kid, as
though he also was uncomfortable at being left alone with us,