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Page 30
"That's eight bells, too; so is twelve o'clock midnight.
Eight bells is as high as they go on a ship. But I guess
I'll go down and see if I can meet the captain. It will soon
be ten o'clock, or four bells, and he must be hungry for
breakfast. By the way, is that Mr. Berg still here?"
"No; he went away early this morning. He and Captain
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
telescope, and then he replied softly:
"That's my name. Who are you, if I may ask?"
Tom was struck, more than by anything else, by the gentle
voice of the seaman. He had prepared himself, from the
description of Mr. Sharp, to meet a gruff, bewhiskered
individual, with a voice like a crosscut saw, and a rolling
gait. Instead he saw a man of medium size, with a smooth
face, merry blue eyes, and the softest voice and gentlest
manner imaginable. Tom was very much disappointed. He had
looked for a regular sea-dog, and he met a landsman, as he
said afterward. But it was not long before our hero changed
his mind regarding Captain Weston.
"I'm Tom Swift," the owner of that name said, "and I have
been sent to show you the way to where our ship is ready to
launch." The young inventor refrained from mentioning
submarine, as it was the wish of Mr Sharp to disclose this
feature of the voyage to the sailor himself.
"Ha, I thought as much," resumed the captain quietly.
"It's a fine day, if I may be permitted to say so," and he
seemed to hesitate, as if there was some doubt whether or
not he might make that observation.
"It certainly is," agreed the lad. Then, with a smile he
added: "It is nearly eight bells."
"Ha!" exclaimed the captain, also smiling, but even his
manner of saying "Ha!" was less demonstrative than that of
most persons. "I believe I am getting hungry, if I may be
allowed the remark," and again he seemed asking Tom's pardon
for mentioning the fact.
"Perhaps you will come back to the cabin and have a little
breakfast with me," he went on. "I don't know what sort of a
galley or cook they have aboard the Beach Hotel, but it
can't be much worse than some I've tackled."
"No, thank you," answered the youth. "I've had my
breakfast. But I'll wait for you, and then I'd like to get
back. Dad and Mr. Sharp are anxious to meet you."
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