me of the blocks, thinking he had the one with the diamond in
it, but the fact of Tom changing them, and painting the compartment
deceived him. The gang hoped to get some valuables from Mr. Swift's
shops, and, to a certain extent, succeeded after hanging around for
several nights and following him to Sandport, but Tom eventually proved
too much for them. Even stealing the Arrow, which was taken to aid the
gang in robbing Mr. Swift, did not succeed, and Boreck's plan then to
get possession of the diamond fell through.

It was thought that the gang would get long terms in prison, but one
night, during a violent storm, they escaped from the local jail and
that was the last seen of them for some time.

A few days after the capture as Tom was in the boathouse making some
minor repairs to the motor he heard a voice calling:

"Mistah Swift, am yo' about?"

"Hello, Rad, is that you?" he inquired, recognizing the voice of the
colored owner of the mule Boomerang.

"Yais, sa, dat's me. I got a lettah fo' yo'. I were passin' de
post-office an' de clerk asted me to brung it to yo' 'case as how it's
marked 'hurry,' an' he said he hadn't seen yo' to-day."

"That's right. I've been so busy I haven't had time to go for the
mail," and Tom took the letter, giving Eradicate ten cents for his
trouble.

"Ha, that's good!" exclaimed Tom as he read it.

"Hab some one done gone an' left yo' a fortune, Mistah Swift?" asked
the negro.

"No, but it's almost as good. It's an invitation to take part in the
motor-boat races next week. I'd forgotten all about them. I must get
ready."

"Good land! Dat's all de risin' generation t'inks about now," observed
Eradicate, "racin' an' goin' fast. Mah ole mule Boomerang am good
enough fo' me," and, shaking his head in a woeful manner, Eradicate
went on his way.

Tom told Mr. Sharp and his father of the proposed races of the Lanton
Motor-boat Club, and, as it was required that two persons be in a craft
the size of the ARROW, the young inventor arranged for the balloonist
to accompany him. Our hero spent the next few days in tuning up his
motor and in getting the ARROW ready for the contest.

The races took place on that side of Lake Carlopa near where Mr.
Hastings lived, and he was one of the officials of the club. There
were several classes, graded according to the horsepower of the motors,
and Tom found himself in a class with Andy Foger.

"Here's where I beat you," boasted the re