"
But at the end of several days Tom's hopes did not seem in a fair
way to be realized. He and Ned followed one useless clue after
another. All the trails seemed blind ones. But Tom never gave up.
He was devoting all his time now to the finding of his friend Mr.
Damon, and to the recovery of his fortune. In fact the latter was
not so important to Tom as was the former. For Mrs. Damon was on
the verge of a nervous collapse on account of the absence of her
husband.
"If I could only have some word from him, Tom!" she cried,
helplessly.
To Tom the matter was very puzzling. It seemed utterly impossible
that Mr. Damon could be kept so close a prisoner that he could not
manage to get some word to his friends. It was not as if he was a
child. He was a man of more than ordinary abilities. Surely he
might find a way to outwit his enemies.
But the days passed, and no word came. A number of detectives had
been employed, but they were no more successful than Tom. The
latter had given up his inventive work, for the time being, to
devote all his time to the solution of the mystery.
Tom and Ned had been away from Shopton for three days, following
the most promising clue they had yet received. But it had failed
at the end, and one afternoon they found themselves in a small
town, about a hundred miles from Shopton. They had been motoring.
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