“And do you really believe he would destroy the Red Cloud?” asked Mr. Parker.

“I think that all he is waiting for is a favorable chance,” declared the diamond seeker.  “He would destroy the craft, and us too, if he could prevent us from discovering the secret of Phantom Mountain, I believe.”

“Then we must get ahead of him,” decided Tom, quietly.  “I have just flashed to dad a message, telling him that we will heed his warning.  Now to capture the stowaway!”

“And while we’re about it, give him a good scare when we do get him,” suggested Mr. Jenks.

“How?” asked Tom.

“Threaten to drop him overboard.  Perhaps that will make him tell how he happened to get in our ship, and what are the plans of the gang of diamond makers.  We may get valuable information that way.”

“I don’t believe you can scare such fellows much,” was Tom’s opinion, but it was agreed to try.

“How are you going to capture him?” asked Mr. Parker.  “If he has a gun it won’t be any too easy to go in the storeroom, and drag him out.”

“We’ll have to use a little strategy,” decided Tom, and then they discussed several plans.  The one finally adopted was that Tom and Mr. Damon should enter the storeroom, casually, as if in search of food to cook for supper.  They would discuss various dishes, and Mr. Damon was to express a preference for something in the food line, the box containing which, was well hack in the room.  This would give the two a chance to penetrate to the far end of the apartment, without arousing the suspicions of the hidden man, who, doubtless, would be listening to the conversation.

“And as soon as we get sight of him, you and I will jump right at him, Mr. Damon,” said Tom.  “Jump before he has a chance to use his gun.  Mr. Jenks and Mr. Parker will be waiting outside the room, to catch him if he gets away from us.  I’ll have some ropes ready, and we’ll tie him up, and—­well, we’ll decide later what to do with him.”

“All right.  I’m ready as soon as you are, Tom,” said the eccentric man.  “Come ahead.”

They went softly to the storeroom, and listened at the door.  There was no sound heard save that made by the machinery.

“I wonder if he’s really here?” whispered Mr. Damon.

“We’ll soon find out,” answered Tom.  “Let’s go in.”

They entered, and, in pursuance of their plan, Tom and his friend talked of various foods.

“I think I’d like some of that canned lobster, with French dressing on,” spoke the eccentric man.

“That’s away in the back end of the room,” said Tom, in a loud voice.  “It’s under a lot of boxes.”

“Then I’ll help you get it out!  Bless my frying pan! but I am very fond of lobster!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, in as natural tones as was possible under the circumstances.

He and Tom moved cautiously back among the boxes and barrels.  They were glancing about with eager eyes.  Tom switched on an electric light, and, the instant he did so, he was aware of a movement in a little space formed by one box which was placed on top, of two others.  The lad saw a dark figure moving, as if to get farther out of sight.