d of my turbine motor, Tom. You
know I told you that the financiers were disappointed in the turbine
motor they bought of another inventor. It does not work. To get back
the money they spent in building an expensive plant they must have a
motor that is successful. Hence their efforts to get control of
mine. I don't know whether I told you or not, but some time ago I
refused a very good offer for certain rights in my invention. I knew
it was worth more. The offer came through Smeak & Katch, the
lawyers, and when I refused it they seemed much disappointed. I
think now that this same firm, and the financiers who have employed
them, are trying by all the means in their power to get possession
of my ideas, if not the invention and model itself."

"What can you do, dad?"

"Well, I must think. I certainly must take some means to protect
myself. I have had trouble before, but never any like this. I did
not think those men would be so unscrupulous."

"Do you know their names?"

"No, only from that telegram we found; the one which the first
stranger dropped. One of them must be Anson Morse. Who the others
are I don't know. But now I must make some plans to foil these
sharpers. I may have to call on you for help, Tom."

"And I'll be ready any time you call on me, dad," responded Tom,
drawing himself up. "Can I do anything for you right away?"

"No; I must think out a plan."

"Then I am going to change my motor-cycle a bit. I'll put some more
improvements on it."

"And I will write some letters to my lawyers in Washington and ask
their advice." It took Tom the remainder of that day, and part of
the next, to arrange the gasolene and spark control of his machine
to his satisfaction. He had to make two small levers and some
connecting rods. This he did in his own particular machine shop,
which was fitted up with a lathe and other apparatus. The lathe was
run by power coming from a small engine, which was operated by an
engineer, an elderly man to whom Mr. Swift had given employment for
many years. He was Garret Jackson, and he kept so close to his
engine and boiler-room that he was seldom seen outside of it except
when the day's work was done.

One afternoon, a few days after the unsuccessful chase after the
fugitive had taken place, Tom went out for a spin on his
motor-cycle. He found that the machine worked much better, and was
easier to control. He rode about fifteen miles away from home, and
then returned. As he enter