"Well, Tom Swift, I don't believe you will make any mistake if
you buy that diamond," said the jeweler to a young man who was
inspecting a tray of pins, set with the sparkling stones. "It is
of the first water, and without a flaw."
Tom Swift, seated in his laboratory engaged in trying to
solve a puzzling question that had arisen over one of his
inventions, was startled by a loud knock on the door. So
emphatic, in fact, was the summons that the door trembled,
and Tom started to his feet in some alarm.
"An electric locomotive that can make two miles a minute over a
properly ballasted roadbed might not be an impossibility," said
Mr. Barton Swift ruminatively. "It is one of those things that
are coming," and he flashed his son, Tom Swift, a knowing smile.
It had been a topic of conversation bet ...
"Have you anything special to do to-night, Ned?" asked Tom Swift,
the well-known inventor, as he paused in front of his chum's window,
in the Shopton National Bank.
"Now, see here, Mr. Swift, you may think it all a sort of
dream, and imagine that I don't know what I'm talking about; but
I do! If you'll consent to finance this expedition to the extent
of, say, ten thousand dollars, I'll practically guarantee to give
you back five times that sum.
"Where are you going, Tom?" asked Mr. Barton Swift of his son as
the young man was slowly pushing his motor-cycle out of the yard
toward the country road. "You look as though you had some object
in view."
There was a rushing, whizzing, throbbing noise in the air.
A great body, like that of some immense bird, sailed along,
casting a grotesque shadow on the ground below. An elderly
man, who Was seated on the porch of a large house, started
to his feet in alarm.
"Tom, this is certainly wonderful reading! Over a hundred
million dollars' worth of silver at the bottom of the ocean! More
than two hundred million dollars in gold! To say nothing of fifty
millions in copper, ten millions in--"
Ceasing his restless walk up and down the room, Tom Swift
strode to the window and gazed across the field toward the
many buildings, where machines were turning out the products
evolved from the brains of his father and himself. There was
a worried look on the face of the young inventor, and he ...
Tom Swift stepped from the door of the machine shop, where he was at
work making some adjustments to the motor of his airship, and
glanced down the road. He saw a cloud of dust, which effectually
concealed whatever was causing it.
Tom Swift, who had been slowly looking
through the pages of a magazine, in the contents
of which he seemed to be deeply interested,
turned the final folio, ruffled the sheets back
again to look at a certain map and drawing, and
then, slapping the book down on a table before
him, with a noise no ...