"Die? Nonsense!" exclaimed the doctor heartily. "He's not dead yet, at
all events, and while there's life there's hope. I'll soon have him out
of this spell."

It was some little time, however, before Mr. Swift again opened his
eyes, but he seemed to gain strength from the remedies which Dr. Gladby
administered, and in about an hour the inventor could sit up.

"But you must be careful," cautioned the physician. "Don't overdo
yourself. I'll be in again in the morning, and now I'll leave you some
medicine, to be taken every two hours."

"Oh, I feel much better," said Mr. Swift, and his voice certainly seemed
Stronger. "I can't imagine what happened. I came upstairs, after Tom had
received a visit from the minister, and that's all I remember."

"The minister, father!" exclaimed Tom, in great amazement. "The minister
wasn't here this evening! That was Mr. Gunmore, the aviation secretary.
Don't you remember?"

"I don't remember any gentleman like that calling here to-night," Mr.
Swift said blankly. "It was the minister, I'm sure, Tom."

"The minister was here last night, Mr. Swift," said the housekeeper.

"Was he? Why, it seems like to-night. And I came upstairs after talking
to him, and then it all got black, and--and--"

"There, now; don't try to think," advised the doctor. "You'll be all