acted so suspiciously. He came back here, I'm telling you, while you were running down the street, and spoke to me."
"Oh, then you know him?" The jeweler's voice was suspicious.
"I didn't at first," admitted Tom. "But when he said he was Mr. Barcoe Jenks, I remembered that I had met him when I was cast away on Earthquake Island."
"And he says he can make diamonds?" asked Mr. Track.
"Yes."
"What did he want of you?" and the jeweler looked at Tom, quizzically.
"He wanted to have a talk with me," replied the lad, "and when he saw me in your store, he tried to attract my attention by knocking on the glass."
"That's a queer way to do," declared Mr. Track. "What did he want?"
"I don't know exactly," answered Tom, not caring to go into details just then. "But I'm sure, Mr. Track, that you've got the wrong person there. That lad never looked in the window, nor knocked on the glass."
"That's right—I didn't," asserted the captive.
The jeweler looked doubtful.
"Why did you run?" he asked.
