"Oh!" said Tom, much relieved. "I was afraid you were ill again. Now, in
this model, as you will see by the plans, it is necessary--"

He paused, and looked over at the table where he had left the drawings.
They were not there!

"The plans, father!" Tom exclaimed. "The plans I left on the table!
Where are they?"

"I haven't touched them," was the answer. "They were on that table,
where you put them, when I closed my eyes for a little nap. I forgot all
about them. Are you sure they're missing?"

"They're not here!" And Tom gazed wildly about the room. "Where can they
have gone?"

"I wasn't out of my chair," said Mr. Swift, "I ought not to have gone to
sleep, but--"

Tom fairly jumped toward the long library window, the same one from
which he had leaped to pursue Andy Foger. The casement was open, and Tom
noted that the screen was also unhooked, It had been closed when he went
to get the model, he was sure of that.

"Look, dad! See!" he exclaimed, as he picked up from the floor a small
piece of paper.

"What is it, Tom?"