"There is!" cried Ned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean there may be something like them--soon."

"There may? Say, Tom--"

"Now don't ask me a lot of questions, Ned, for I can't
answer them. When I say there may be something like them, I
mean it isn't beyond the realms of possibility that some
one--perhaps the Germans--may turn out even bigger and
better tanks."

"Oh!" And Ned's voice showed his disappointment. "I
thought maybe you were in on that game yourself, Tom. Say,
couldn't you get up something almost as good as this?" and
he indicated the picture in the paper. "Isn't that
wonderful?"

"Oh, well, it's good, Ned, but there are others. Yes, Dad,
I'm coming," he called, as he saw his father beckoning to
him from a distant building.

"Well, I've got to get along," said Ned. "But I certainly
am disappointed, Tom. I thought you'd go into a fit over
this picture--it's one of the first allowed to get out of
England, my London friend said. And instead of enthusing
you're as cold as a clam;" and Ned shook his head in puzzled
and disappointed fashion as he walked slowly along beside
the young inventor.