Weston seemed to strike up quite an acquaintance, the night
clerk told me. They sat and smoked together until long after
midnight, or eight bells," and the clerk smiled as he
glanced down at the big diamond ring on his little finger.

"They did?" fairly exploded Tom, for he had visions of
what the wily Mr. Berg might worm out of the simple captain.

"Yes. Why, isn't the captain a proper man to make friends
with?" and the clerk looked at Tom curiously.

"Oh, yes, of course," was the hasty answer. "I guess I'll
go and see if I can find him--the captain, I mean."

Tom hardly knew what to think. He wished his father, or
Mr. Sharp, had thought to warn Captain Weston against
talking of the wreck. It might be too late now.

The young inventor hurried to the beach, which was not far
from the hotel. He saw a solitary figure pacing up and down,
and from the fact that the man stopped, every now and then,
and gazed seaward through a large telescope, the lad
concluded it was the captain for whom he was in search. He
approached, his footsteps making no sound on the sand. The
man was still gazing through the glass.

"Captain Weston?" spoke Tom.

Without a show of haste, though the voice must have
startled him, the captain turned. Slowly he lowered the