Tom Swift in the City of Gold | Page 4

help you when I come back, dad. I want to get some of this gold."
"But we are rich enough, Tom."
"It isn't so much the money, dad. Listen. There is another part to the
letter. Mr. Illingway says that in that underground city, according to the
rumor among the African natives, there is not only gold in plenty, and a
number of small gold statues, but one immense big one--of solid gold,
as large as three men, and there is some queer mystery about it, so that
white traveler said. A mystery he wanted to solve but could not."
"So, dad, I'm going to search for that underground city, not only for the
mere gold, but to see if I can solve the mystery of the big gold statue.
And if I could bring it away," cried Tom in great excitement as he
waved the missionary's letter above his head, "it would be one of the

wonders of the world--dad, for, not only is it very valuable, but it is
most beautifully carved."
"Well, I might as well give up my gyroscope work until you come back
from the city of gold, Tom, I can see that," said Mr. Swift, with a faint
smile. "And if you go, I hope you come back. I don't want that
mysterious image to be the undoing of you."
"Oh, I'll come back all right!" cried Tom confidently. "Ho! for the city
of gold and the images thereof! I'm going to get ready to start!"
"And so am I!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my shoe strings, Tom, but I'm
with you! I certainly am!" and the little man excitedly shook hands with
Tom Swift, while the aged inventor looked on and nodded his head
doubtfully. But Tom was full of hope.
CHAPTER II
AN UNSUSPECTED LISTENER
For a few moments after Tom Swift had announced his decision to start
for the city of gold, and Mr. Damon had said he would accompany the
young inventor, there was a silence in the workshop. Then Mr. Swift
laid aside the delicate mechanism of the new model gyroscope on
which he had been working, came over to his son, and said:
"Well, Tom, if you're going, that means you're going--I know enough
to predict that. I rather wish you weren't, for I'm afraid no good will
come of this."
"Now, dad, don't be talking that way!" cried Tom gaily. "Pack up and
come along with us." Lovingly he placed his arm around the bent
shoulders of his father.
"No, Tom, I'm too old. Home is the place for me."
"Bless my arithmetic tables!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, "you're not so
much older than I am, and I'm going with Tom. Come on, Mr. Swift."

"No, I can't put up with dangers, hardship and excitement as I used to.
I'd better stay home. Besides, I want to perfect my new gyroscope. I'll
work on that while you and Tom are searching for the city of gold. But,
Tom, if you're going you'd better have something more definite to look
for than an unknown city, located on a map drawn by some African
bushman."
"I intend to, dad. I guess when Mr. Illingway wrote his letter he didn't
really think I'd take him up, and make the search. I'm going to write and
ask him if he can't get me a better map, and also learn more about the
location of the city. Mexico isn't such a very large place, but it would
be if you had to hunt all over it for a buried city, and this map isn't a lot
of help," and Tom who had shown it to his father and Mr. Damon
looked at it closely.
"If we're going, we want all the information we can get," declared the
odd man. "Bless my gizzard, Tom, but this may mean a lot to us!"
"I think it will," agreed the young inventor. "I'm going to write to Mr.
Illingway at once, and ask for all the information he can get."
"And I'll help you with suggestions," spoke Mr. Damon. "Come on in
the house, Tom. Bless my ink bottle, but we're going to have some
adventures again!"
"It seems to me that is about all Tom does--have adventures--that and
invent flying machines," said Mr. Swift with a smile, as his son and
their visitor left the shop. Then he once more bent over his gyroscope
model, while Tom and Mr. Damon hurried in to write the letter to the
African missionary.
And while this is being done I am going to ask your patience for a little
while--my old readers, I mean--while I tell my new friends, who have
never yet met Tom Swift, something about him.
Mr. Swift spoke truly when he said his son seemed to