"Is he in his room?" asked Tom.
"No," answered the clerk with a peculiar grin. "He's an
odd character. Wouldn't go to bed last night until we had
every window in his room open, though it was blowing quite
hard, and likely to storm. The captain said he was used to
plenty of fresh air. Well, I guess he got it, all right."
"Where is he now?" asked the youth, wondering what sort of
an individual he was to meet.
"Oh, he was up before sunrise, so some of the scrubwomen
told me. They met him coming from his room, and he went
right down to the beach with a big telescope he always
carries with him. He hasn't come back yet. Probably he's
down on the sand."
"Hasn't he had breakfast?"
"No. He left word he didn't want to eat until about four
bells, whatever time that is."
"It's ten o'clock," replied Tom, who had been studying up
on sea terms lately. "Eight bells is eight o'clock in the
morning, or four in the afternoon or eight at night,
according to the time of day. Then there's one bell for
every half hour, so four bells this morning would be ten
o'clock in this watch, I suppose."
"Oh, that's the way it goes, eh?" asked the clerk. "I
never could get it through my head. What is twelve o'clock
noon?"
"That's eight bells, too; so is twelve o'clock midnight.
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