Your father has been working rather hard of late hasn't he?"

"Yes; on a new wireless motor."

"I thought so. Well, a good rest is what he needs, and then his mind and
body will be in tune again. I'll be around in the morning."

Tom was somewhat relieved by the doctor's words, but not very much so,
and he spent an anxious night, getting up every two hours to administer
the medicine. Toward morning Mr. Swift fell into a heavy sleep, and did
not awaken for some time.

"Oh, you're much better!" declared Dr. Gladby when he saw his patient
that day.

"Yes, I feel better," admitted Mr. Swift.

"And can't you remember about Mr. Gunmore calling?" asked Tom.

The aged inventor shook his head, with a puzzled air.

"I can't remember it at all," he said. "The minister is the last person
I remember calling here."

Tom looked worried, but the physician said it was a common feature of
the disease from which Mr. Swift suffered, and would doubtless pass
away.

"And you don't remember how we talked about me building a speedy
aeroplane and trying for the ten-thousand-dollar prize?" asked Tom.