A moment later they heard Mr. Swift letting Andy out of the front
door, and then the inventor rejoined his son and the others. He held
an open letter in his hand.

"This is strange--very strange," he murmured.

"What is it?" asked Tom quickly.

"Why. Mr. Foger has written to me asking to be allowed to sell some
of our patents and machines on commission."

"Sell them on commission!" exclaimed his son. "Why does a
millionaire like Mr. Foger want to be selling goods on commission?
It's only a trick!"

"No, it's not a trick," said Mr. Swift slowly. "He is in earnest.
Tom, Mr. Foger has lost his millions. His fortune has been swept
away by unfortunate investments, he tells me, and he would be glad
of any work I could give him. That's why Andy brought the letter to-
night. I just sent him back with an answer."

"What did you say, dad?"

"I said I'd think it over."

"Mr. Foger's millions gone," mused Tom.

"And Andy in there listening to what we said about the city of
gold," added Ned. "No wonder he was glad the door was open. He'd be