d news!" the balloonist cried. "Captain Weston will be with us
to-morrow. He will arrive at the Beach Hotel in Atlantis, and wants one
of us to meet him there. He has considerable information about the
wreck."

"The Beach Hotel," murmured Tom. "That is where Mr. Berg is stopping. I
hope he doesn't worm any of our secret from Captain Weston," and it was
with a feeling of uneasiness that the young inventor continued after
his father and Mr. Damon to where the submarine was.

Chapter Nine

Captain Weston's Advent

"Bless my water ballast, but that certainly is a fine boat!" cried Mr.
Damon, when he had been shown over the new craft. "I think I shall
feel even safer in that than in the Red Cloud."

"Oh, don't go back on the airship!" exclaimed Mr Sharp. "I was counting
on taking you on another trip."

"Well, maybe after we get back from under the ocean," agreed Mr. Damon.
"I particularly like the cabin arrangements of the Advance. I think I
shall enjoy myself."

He would be hard to please who could not take pleasure from a trip in
the submarine. The cabin was particularly fine, and the sleeping
arrangements were good.

More supplies could be carried than was possible on the airship, and
there was more room in which to cook and serve food. Mr. Damon was fond
of good living, and the kitchen pleased him as much as anything else.

Early the next morning Tom set out for Atlantis, to meet Captain Weston
at the hotel. The young inventor inquired of the clerk whether the
seafaring man had arrived, and was told that he had come the previous
evening.

"Is he in his room?" asked Tom.

"No," answered the clerk with a peculiar grin. "He's an odd character.
Wouldn't go to bed last night until we had every window in his room
open, though it was blowing quite hard, and likely to storm. The
captain said he was used to plenty of fresh air. Well, I guess he got
it, all right."

"Where is he now?" asked the youth, wondering what sort of an
individual he was to meet.

"Oh, he was up before sunrise, so some of the scrubwomen told me. They
met him coming from his room, and he went right down to the beach with
a big telescope he always carries with him. He hasn't come back yet.
Probably he's down on the sand."

"Hasn't he had breakfast?"

"No. He left word he didn't want to eat until about four bells,
whatever time that is."

"It's ten o'clock," replied Tom, who had been studying up on sea terms
lately. "Eight bells