"Wasn't it the same boy who came here again this morning?" asked Mr. Merriman. "He had discovered Olly on the 'Old Cow,'—though nobody knew it was Olly; and he came to get oars and a spy-glass."
"Yes," said one of the other ladies; "and he came upstairs to look from the windows. He might have gone into your room then, Mr. Hatville."
"But if he had stolen the watch the night before, would he have shown his face here again this morning?" argued the landlady, who had been too much bewildered by what had occurred in her house, to take much part in the previous conversation.
"He might have done just that thing," Hatville replied, "in order to brazen it out, and make a show of innocence. But most likely he saw the chronometer then, and, having had time to think about it, he watched for a chance to take it this morning, when it was supposed I might have been lost in the yacht."
That seemed very probable; and Mrs. Murcher was obliged to admit that there had been no other stranger about the place, to her knowledge, except the messenger who brought Mr. Hatville's telegram. He, however, had not got out of his buggy.
"That same boy is on the beach now, gathering seaweed," said Mrs. Merriman. "At least, he was there a short time ago."
"That's good news!" cried Hatville, gayly. "Who'll go with me and point him out? We'll interview this seaweed-gatherer, who does a little side business in other people's watches!"
And Olly could hear his boots departing in haste through the corridor and descending the stairs. One or two ladies went with him to identify the supposed culprit; while others remained to discuss this last exciting revelation.
"Such a bright, interesting boy!" said one; "I shouldn't have believed it of him!"
"I thought him a young hero!" cried another, "to leave his work and start off to the rescue!"