hem out,
and he might have a chance to see who they were.

Tom thought quickly. He could take a turn, go through a short
passage, and run past the room of the mysterious passengers getting
on deck as quickly as if he went the usual way.

"I'll go look after Rad!" Tom shouted to Ned. "You go up on deck,
and I'll join you."

Eradicate's stateroom was on his way, after he had passed No. 27.
Tom at once put his plan into execution. As he ran on, the confusion
on deck seemed to increase, but the lad noted that the vessel did
not pitch and roll so much, and she seemed to be on an even keel,
and in no immediate danger of going down.

As Tom neared Stateroom No. 27 he heard voices coming from it,
voices that sent a thrill through him, for he was sure he had heard
them before.

"Where are the life preservers? Oh, I KNOW we'll be drowned! I wish
I'd never come on this trip! Look out, those are my pants you're
putting on! Oh, where is my collar? Hand me my coat! Look out,
you're stepping on my fingers!"

These were the confused and alarmed cries that Tom heard. He paused
for a moment opposite the door, and then it was suddenly flung open.
The lights were glaring brightly inside and a strange sight met the
gaze of the young inventor.

There stood Mr. Foger and beside him--half dressed--was his son--Andy!
Tom gasped. So did Andy and Mr. Foger, for they had both recognized
our hero.

But how Mr. Foger had changed! His moustache was shaved off, though
in spite of this Tom knew him. And Andy! No longer was his hair red,
for it had been dyed a deep black and glasses over his eyes
concealed their squint. No wonder the purser had not recognized them
by the descriptions Tom and Ned had given.

"Andy Foger!" gasped Tom.

"Tom--it's Tom Swift, father!" stammered the bully.

"Close the door!" sharply ordered Mr. Foger, though he and his son
had been about to rush out.

"I won't do it!" cried Andy. "The ship is sinking and I'm not going
to be drowned down here."

"So it was you--after all," went on Tom. "What are you doing here?"

"None of your business!" snapped Andy. "Get out of my way, I'm going
on deck."

Tom realized that it was not the proper time to hold a conversation,
with a possibly sinking ship under him. He looked at Mr. Foger, and
many thoughts shot through his mind. Why were they on board? Had it
anything to do with the city of gold? Had Andy overheard the talk?
Or was Mr. Foger merely looking for a new vent