you would like to
question the steward who found Mr. Clodis at the foot of the main
saloon companionway----"

"Have you made the investigation thoroughly, sir?"

"I think so--yes."

"Then nothing is likely to be gained, Captain, by my asking any
questions of a steward you have already questioned."

The mate came back to report that Mr. Clodis had been carried over
the side, and that his baggage had been taken aboard the "Restless."

"I know you don't want a liner held up," Tom went on, slipping Captain
Hampton's report of the accident into his pocket. "I'll go over the
side, sir, as soon as you can ascertain whether Mr. Clodis had any
papers that ought to be sent ashore with him."

"There are none in the injured man's pockets," replied the steamship's
sailing master, "and none were deposited with the purser. So, if there
are any papers, they must be in Mr. Clodis's trunk or bag."

"Thank you, sir. Then I'll bid you good-bye and hurry over the side,"
said Halstead, energetically.

As they stepped out of the stateroom a passenger who had been
lingering near stepped up.

"Oh, one moment," said Captain Hampton, suddenly. "Captain Halstead,
this gentleman is Mr. Arthur Hilton. Since leaving New York he has
received some wireless news that makes him anxious to return. He wants
to go ashore with you."

Arthur Hilton had stepped forward, holding out his hand, which Tom
took in his own. Mr. Hilton was a man of about thirty, smooth-faced,
with firm set jaws. Though evidently not a Spaniard, he had the
complexion usual to that race. His dark eyes were keen and sharp,
though they had a rather pleasant look in them. He was slender,
perhaps five feet eight inches tall, and, although his waist and legs
were thin, he had broad, rather powerful looking shoulders.

"You can set me ashore, can't you, young man, for a ten-dollar bill?"
inquired Hilton.

"Certainly, if Captain Hampton knows no reason why you shouldn't leave
the vessel," Tom answered.

"Mr. Hilton has surrendered his passage ticket, and there is nothing
to detain him aboard," replied the steamship's master.

"Your baggage ready, sir?" asked Tom.

"Nothing but this bag," laughed Hilton, stepping back and picking up
his hand luggage.

"Come along, then, sir."

As Tom Halstead pressed his way through the throng of passengers
gathered on deck, he heard several wondering, and some admiring,
remarks relative to the youthfulness of the skipper of so handsome