Clarence Clayton never entered the hotel now. Rupert wondered what had become of him. But one Thursday afternoon—his afternoon off—he strayed down to the Battery.
Seated on one of the benches, looking out towards Governor's Island, Rupert's attention was drawn after a while to two men who occupied a neighboring bench. One of those he recognized at once as Clayton. The other he also recognized as a guest at the Somerset Hotel, a new arrival. He was a man of middle age who had the appearance of a Westerner. Rupert now remembered that he had entered himself on the hotel register as from Colorado.
"I wonder what mischief Clayton is up to now?" Rupert asked himself.
The benches were so near that he was able to hear the conversation between the two men. Clayton had a showy gold watch in his hand which he was endeavoring to sell to his new acquaintance.
"The fact is, my friend," Rupert heard him say, "I am awfully hard up. I need money badly, and that is why I offer you such a bargain. This watch is nearly new and cost me one hundred and fifty dollars in cold cash. I offer it to you for fifty."
"How did you get so hard up?" asked the stranger.
"I took a flyer in Wall Street. I have a friend who is a broker, and he gave me a pointer. I don't blame him, for he believed it, and invested himself. However, things didn't turn out as we expected, and I was cleaned out."
"How about him?"
"He lost a good deal more than I did, but he could stand it and I couldn't."
The Western man took the watch in his hand.