just now?" added Ned.
[Illustration: "Come in and Tell us the News!"]
"I'll tell you," said the rather eccentric man, for once forgetting to bless
something. "I'm in trouble, boys, and I need your help."
"You know we'll do anything we can, Mr. Damon," Tom assured him.
"Just what is the difficulty?"
"My wife," said the caller glumly. "She's the trouble."
[Illustration: "I'm in Trouble, Boys."]
On hearing this both boys experienced no little difficulty in keeping
their faces straight. Although Mrs. Damon was a fine woman in many
ways, she was inclined to be very domineering where her husband was
concerned. Ever since Tom Swift had rescued the man from a band of
kidnapers, Mrs. Damon had had a great liking for the youthful scientist.
Yet she felt that her husband should remain quietly at home with her
and not go off on any wild trips, as the good lady called them.
"But I don't see--well, suppose you explain," suggested Tom.
[Illustration: "Bless My Headache Pills!"]
"My wife wants me to go on a week-end house party with her next
Friday and I detest 'em. Bless my headache pills, but it's enough to
drive a man distracted. Now, I heard you boys talking about South
America as I came in and I want to go along!"
"Well, Mr. Damon, if we were going South you know I'd be only too
pleased to have you a member of the party. But Ned and I were merely
talking about a shipment of freight I'm expecting from Giant Land."
"Koku's country?" asked Mr. Damon, somewhat astonished. "I thought
Ambolata was still unknown to commerce. Bless my bill-of-lading, if
the world isn't moving faster than I thought!"
[Illustration: Some Freight From Giant Land]
Tom smiled. "I had to arrange for an expedition through the consular
office at Buenos Aires to get what I want. It seems we didn't receive all
of that strange meteorite even with the help of your magic wig."
[Illustration: Tom Smiled and Explained]
Even Mr. Damon had to laugh when he recalled the ludicrous situation
in which he had been placed in the jungles of South America.
Surrounded by savages, he had absent-mindedly taken off his wig,
thereby frightening the simple natives half out of their wits. They had
thought he could scalp himself at will. Nevertheless, this action had
saved the lives of Tom Swift and his party, ultimately enabling them to
escape when the giants turned against them.
[Illustration: They Thought He Could Scalp Himself]
"Ah, those were the days, Tom," sighed the eccentric man, "those were
the days! Even if you're not going off to the wilds, maybe you might
give me some kind of a job here so that my wife can't drag me off to
that house party. I feel it in my very bones that old Hiram Leatherby
will be there and he ALWAYS singles me out to talk about his fossil
collection!"
"I can sympathize with you," muttered Ned. "Mr. Leatherby used to be
a director in the bank where I worked before Tom made me his
business manager, and I've often thought he was a bit fossilized
himself!"
[Illustration: "I'll See What Can Be Done."]
"Well, Mr. Damon, I'll see what can be done," promised Tom.
"Good!" came an enthusiastic exclamation. "Bless my cup of tea, I'm
counting on you!"
"In the meantime, why don't you go up to the house and have our
housekeeper, Mrs. Baggert, make you a cup of tea? Stop in the library
and see Dad. He's been working too hard lately on his electrical book
and he needs company."
[Illustration: "Stop in and See Dad."]
"I will, Tom. Your father is a mighty fine man. Oh, my goodness! Bless
my poor memory, Tom, but I had some news for you. Good or bad I
don't know, but I feel uneasy about it."
"Tell us what it is," suggested the young inventor.
[Illustration: "Two Men Called on Me."]
"It's a rather odd thing. You see, last evening I was reading my paper
on the porch when two men called on me. Said they were long-lost
relatives--cousins, or something of the sort--just back from a stay in
South Africa. They seemed nice enough fellows, but bless my family
tree, I had never heard of 'em! At any rate, they seemed to know a good
deal about the Damon family and so I asked them to dinner. What got
me thinking something might not be right was the way those chaps
tried to pump me about you, Tom."
"Pump you?" asked young Swift, a puzzled look on his face. "About
what?"
"Glass," said the eccentric character promptly. "Some kind of glass.
Bless my windshield-wiper, what was it? Oh, yes! Flexible glass, that
was it."
[Illustration: "They Tried to Pump Me."]
Tom and
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