"There is a stranger about the shop,
and my father never allows that. I'll be back in a minute."
"Take your time," advised the somewhat eccentric Mr. Damon. "I find
my legs are a bit weaker than I suspected, and I will be glad to
rest a while longer. Bless my shoelaces, but don't hurry!"
Tom went into the rear yard, where the shops, in a small cluster of
buildings, were located. He saw his father confronting the man with
the black mustache, and Mr. Swift was saying:
"What do you want? I allow no people to come in here unless I or my
son invites them. Did you wish to see me?"
"Are you Mr. Barton Swift?" asked the man.
"Yes, that is my name."
"The inventor of the Swift safety lamp, and the turbine motor?"
At the mention of the motor Mr. Swift started.
"I am the inventor of the safety lamp you mention," he said stiffly,
"but I must decline to talk about the motor. May I ask where you
obtained your information concerning it?"
"Why, I am not at liberty to tell," went on the man. "I called to
see if we could negotiate with you for the sale of it. Parties whom
I represent--"
At that moment Tom plucked his father by the sleeve.
"Dad," whispered the youth, "I saw him in Mansburg. I think he is
one of several who have been inquiring in Mr.
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