"What is it?" asked Tom.
"Something bright and shining!" said his companion. "I saw it gleam in the light of the lamps. You nearly put your foot on it, Tom. Just step back a moment."
Tom did so, and the eccentric man, with another exclamation, this time of satisfaction, reached down and picked something up from the dusty road.
"It's a watch!" he exclaimed. "A gold watch! And it's been stepped on, evidently, or run over by an auto. Not much damaged, but the case is a bit bent and scratched. It's stopped, too!" he added as he held it to his ear.
"What time does it show?" asked Tom.
"Eight forty-seven," answered Mr. Damon, as he consulted the dial. "Why, Tom, that was just about when we heard the cries for help!"
"Yes, it must have been. Let me see that watch."
No sooner had the young inventor taken the timepiece into his hands than he, too, uttered a cry of amazement.
"Do you recognize it?" asked Mr. Damon, in great excitement.
"It's Mr. Nestor's watch!" cried Tom. "He must have fallen here, and been hurt. It was Mr. Nestor who cried for help, and who was taken away by the autoists. They've probably taken him to some hospital. There's been an accident all right."