Hello,
here I am carrying this diamond pin around. I might lose it.
Guess I'll put it back on the tray."
He replaced in the proper receptacle one of the pins he bad
been examining when the excitement occurred.
"I wonder if Mary will like that?" he said, softly. "I hope she
does. Perhaps it would be better if she could come here herself
and pick out one--"
Tom's musing was suddenly interrupted by a sharp tattoo on the
glass door of the jewelry shop. With a start, he looked up, to
see staring in on him the face of the man who had been there
before--the man of whom the jeweler was even then in chase.
"Why--why----" stammered Tom.
The man knocked again.
"Tom--Tom Swift!" he called. "Don't you know me?"
"Know you--you?" repeated the lad.
"Yes--don't you remember Earthquake Island--how we were nearly
killed there--don't you remember Mr. Jenks?"
"Mr. Jenks?"
Tom was so startled that he could only repeat words after the
strange man, who was talking to him from outside the glass door.
"Yes, Mr. Jenks," was the reply. "Mr. Barcoe Jenks, who makes
diamonds. I saw you in the store about to buy a diamond--I wanted
to tell you not to--I'll give you a better diamond than you can
buy--I just arrived in this place--I must have a private talk
with you--Come out--I'll share a wonderful secret with you.
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