Peters. He had no rose in his buttonhole now.
"Well, you have me, I see," he said, coolly. "I was afraid we were
playing for too high a stake."
"Yes, we've got you," replied Tom,
"But you can't prove much against me," went on Peters. "I'll deny
everything."
"We'll see about that," added the young inventor, grimly, and
thought of the picture in the plate and the record on the wax
cylinder.
"We've got to get Mr. Damon to some place where he can be looked
after," broke in Mr. Halling. "Then we'll hear the story."
A passing farmer was prevailed on to take the party in his big
wagon to the nearest town, Mr. Hailing going on ahead in his
airship. Tom's craft could not be moved, being badly damaged.
Once in town Peters and Boylan were put in jail, on the charges
for which Tom carried warrants. Mr. Damon was taken to a hotel and
a doctor summoned. It was as Mr. Halling had guessed. His friend
had been ill, and so weak that he could not get out of bed. It was
this that enabled the plotters to so easily keep him a prisoner.
By degrees Mr. Damon told his story. He had rashly allowed Peters
to get control of most of his fortune, and, in a vain hope of
getting back some of his losses, had, one night--the night he
disappeared, in fact--agreed to meet Peters and some of his men to
talk matters over. Of this Mr. Damon said nothing to his wife.
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