But dinner has been waiting
some time. We'll go in now, or Mrs. Baggert will be out after us."
Father and son were soon at the table, and Tom was explaining what
he meant to do to improve his motor-cycle. His father offered some
suggestions regarding the placing of the gasolene lever.
"I'd put it here," he said, and with his pencil he began to draw a
diagram on the white table cloth.
"Oh, my goodness me, Mr. Swift!" exclaimed Mrs. Baggert. "Whatever
are you doing?" and she sprang up in some alarm.
"What's the matter? Did I upset my tea?" asked the inventor
innocently.
"No; but you are soiling a clean tablecloth. Pencil-marks are so
hard to get out. Take a piece of paper, please."
"Oh, is that all?" rejoined Mr. Swift with a smile. "Well, Tom, here
is the way I would do that," and substituting the back of an
envelope for the tablecloth, he continued the drawing.
Tom was looking over his father's shoulder interestedly, when Mrs.
Baggert, who was taking off some of the dinner dishes, suddenly
asked:
"Are you expecting a visitor, Mr. Swift?"
"A visitor? No. Why?" asked the inventor quickly.
"Because I just saw a man going in the machine shop," went on the
housekeeper.
"A man! In the machine shop!" exclaimed Tom, rising from his chair.
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