on paper, and we will hand it to Mr. Newton, our financial
manager, in the morning. If you will remain in town for twenty-
four hours, the contract can be signed."

"Suits me," declared. Richard Bartholomew, rising quickly from
his chair. "I confess I hoped you would take me up quite as
promptly as you have. I want to get back West again.

"We will see you in the office of the company at two o'clock
tomorrow," said Tom Swift confidently.

"Better than good! And now, if that trailer that I am pretty
sure Montagne Lewis sent after me does not get wise to the
subject of our talk, it may be a slick job we have done and will
do. I admit I am rather afraid of the enemy. You Swifts must keep
your plans in utter darkness."

After a little talk on more ordinary affairs, Mr. Bartholomew
took his departure. It was getting late in the evening, and Tom
Swift had an engagement. While old Rad, their colored servant,
was helping him on with his coat preparatory to Tom's leaving the
house, his father called from the library:

"Got those notes in a safe place, Tom?"

"Safest in the world, Dad," his son replied. But he did not go
into details. Tom considered the "safest place in the world" just
then was his own wallet, which was tucked into an inside pocket
of his vest "I'm going to see Mary Nestor, Father," said Tom, as
he went to the front door and opened it.