"South America?" cried Tom, with a sudden look at Mr.
Titus.

"Yes, South America. Why, there isn't anything strange in
that, is there? You've been to wilder countries, and
farther away than that."

"Yes, I know--it's just a coincidence. Go on."

"Let me get where I can sit down," begged Mr. Damon. "I
think that crick in my back is running down into my legs,
Tom. I feel a bit weak. Let me sit down, and get me a glass
of water. I shall be all right presently."

Between them Tom and Mr. Titus assisted the horseman into
an easy chair, and there, under the influence of a cup of
hot tea, which Mrs. Baggert, the housekeeper, insisted on
making for him, he said he felt much better, and would
explain the reason for his call which had culminated in such
a sensational manner.

And while Mr. Damon is preparing his explanation I will
take just a few moments to acquaint my new readers with some
facts about Tom Swift, and the previous volumes of this
series in which he has played such prominent parts.

Tom Swift was the son of an inventor, and not only
inherited his father's talents, but had greatly added to
them, so that now Tom had a wonderful reputation.