"I will," decided the young inventor.
The Bellaconda stopped at Panama and then kept on her way south. Soon after that she ran into a severe tropical storm, and for a time there was some excitement among the passengers. The more timid of them put on life preservers, though the captain and his officers assured them there was no danger.
Tom and Mr. Titus, descending from the deck, whence they had been warned by one of the mates, were on their way to their stateroom, walking with some difficulty owing to the roll of the ship.
As they approached their quarters the door of a stateroom farther up the passage opened, and a head was thrust out.
"Will you send a steward to me?" a man requested. "I am feeling very ill, and need assistance."
"Certainly," Tom answered, and at that moment he heard Mr. Titus utter an exclamation.
"What is it?" asked Tom, for the man who had appealed for help, had withdrawn his head.
"That—that man!" exclaimed the contractor. "That was Waddington, the tool of our rivals."
"Waddington!" repeated Tom, with a look at the now closed door. "Why, the bearded man has that stateroom—the bearded man who so nearly lost the steamer. He isn't Waddington!"
"And I tell you Waddington is in that room!" insisted the contractor. "I only saw the upper part of his face, but I'd know his eyes anywhere. Waddington is spying on us!"