He went up the bank steps three at a time, like some boy
instead of an elderly man. Tom looked after him for a second and
then got down to oil up his car, and make some adjustments that
had rattled loose from the rough road. Unmindful of the curious
throng that gathered he crawled under the machine with his oil-can.

He had finished his work, and was back in his seat, ready to
start, but Mr. Damon had not reappeared.

"It's taking him a good while to get that cash," thought Tom.
"Maybe the securities were no good."

But, a few minutes later, Mr. Damon came hurrying from the
bank. The valise he carried seemed much heavier than when he went
in.

"It's all right, Tom," he said. "I've got it. Now for the trip
home, and I hope we don't have any accidents. It took longer than
I thought to check over the bonds and receipt for them. But I've
got the cash. Now to save the bank!"

He took his place beside the young inventor, holding the valise
between his knees, while Tom turned on the power and sent his car
dashing down the street, and toward the road that led to Shopton.




CHAPTER XIX STOPPED ON THE ROAD