"
Tom Swift's face glowed. He realized that this offer was not
only generous, but that it made it worth his while dropping
everything else he had in hand and devoting his entire time and
thought for even six mouths to the proposition of developing the
electric locomotive.
He looked at his father and nodded. Mr. Swift said, calmly:
"We take you on that offer, Mr. Bartholomew. Tom has the facts
on paper, and we will hand it to Mr. Newton, our financial
manager, in the morning. If you will remain in town for twenty-
four hours, the contract can be signed."
"Suits me," declared. Richard Bartholomew, rising quickly from
his chair. "I confess I hoped you would take me up quite as
promptly as you have. I want to get back West again.
"We will see you in the office of the company at two o'clock
tomorrow," said Tom Swift confidently.
"Better than good! And now, if that trailer that I am pretty
sure Montagne Lewis sent after me does not get wise to the
subject of our talk, it may be a slick job we have done and will
do. I admit I am rather afraid of the enemy. You Swifts must keep
your plans in utter darkness."
After a little talk on more ordinary affairs, Mr. Bartholomew
took his departure. It was getting late in the evening, and Tom
Swift had an engagement. While old Rad, their colored servant,
was helping him on with his coat preparatory to Tom's leaving the
house, his father called from the library:
"Got those notes in a safe place, Tom?"
"Safest in the world, Dad," his son replied.
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