Mr. Illingway wrote his letter he
didn't really think I'd take him up, and make the search. I'm going
to write and ask him if he can't get me a better map, and also learn
more about the location of the city. Mexico isn't such a very large
place, but it would be if you had to hunt all over it for a buried
city, and this map isn't a lot of help," and Tom who had shown it to
his father and Mr. Damon looked at it closely.

"If we're going, we want all the information we can get," declared
the odd man. "Bless my gizzard, Tom, but this may mean a lot to us!"

"I think it will," agreed the young inventor. "I'm going to write to
Mr. Illingway at once, and ask for all the information he can get."

"And I'll help you with suggestions," spoke Mr. Damon. "Come on in
the house, Tom. Bless my ink bottle, but we're going to have some
adventures again!"

"It seems to me that is about all Tom does--have adventures--that
and invent flying machines," said Mr. Swift with a smile, as his son
and their visitor left the shop. Then he once more bent over his
gyroscope model, while Tom and Mr. Damon hurried in to write the
letter to the African missionary.

And while this is being done I am going to ask your patience for a
little while--my old readers, I mean--while I tell my new friends,
who have never yet met Tom Swift, something about him.

Mr. Swift spoke truly when he said his son seemed to do nothing but
seek adventures and invent flying machines. Of the latter the lad
had a goodly number, some of which involved new and startling ideas.
For Tom was a lad who "did things."

In the first volume of this series, entitled "Tom Swift and His
Motor Cycle," I told you how he became acquainted with Mr. Damon.
That eccentric individual was riding a motor cycle, when it started
to climb a tree. Mr. Damon was thrown off in front of Tom's house,
somewhat hurt, and the young inventor took him in. Tom and his
father lived in the village of Shopton, New York, and Mr. Swift was
an inventor of note. His son followed in his footsteps. Mrs. Swift
had been dead some years, and they had a good housekeeper, Mrs.
Baggert.

Another "member" of the family was Eradicate Sampson, a colored man
of all work, who said he was named "Eradicate" because he
"eradicated" the dirt. He used to do odd jobs of whitewashing before
he was regularly employed by Mr. Swift as a sort of gardener and
watchman.

In the first book I told how Tom bought the motor cycle from M