"You say you were coming over to see me, when you ran into my
wireless aerials?" asked Tom, curiously, when he had introduced
his father to the birdman.
"Yes," went on Mr. Halling. "I have been having some trouble with
my motor, and I thought perhaps you could tell me what was wrong.
My friend, Mr. Wakefield Damon, sent me to you."
"What! Do you know Mr. Damon?" cried Tom.
"I've known' him for some years. I met him in the West, but I
hadn't seen him lately, until I came East. He sent me to see you,
and said you would help me."
"Well, any friend of Mr. Damon's is a friend of mine!" exclaimed
Tom, genially. "I'll have a look at your machine as soon as Koku
gets it down. How is Mr. Damon, anyhow? I haven't seen him in over
two weeks."
"I'm sorry to say he isn't very well, Mr. Swift."
"Is he ill? What is the trouble?"
"He isn't exactly ill," went on Mr. Halling, "but he is fretting
himself into a sickness, worrying over his lost fortune."
"His lost fortune!" cried Tom, in surprise at the bad news
concerning his friend. "I didn't know he had lost his money!"
"He hasn't yet, but he's in a fair way to, he says. It's something
about bad investments, and he did speak of the trickery of one
man, I didn't get the particulars. But he certainly feels very
badly over it."
"I should think he would," put in Mr. Swift.
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