u don't get many
letters. But that one looks as if it had come quite a distance."

"So it does," agreed Tom, looking closely at the stamp and postmark.
"What do you make out of it, Mr. Wilson?" and then, just as many
other persons do when getting a strange letter, instead of opening
it to see from whom it has come, Tom tried to guess by looking at
the handwriting, and trying to decipher the faint postmark. "What
does that say?" and the young inventor pointed to the black stamp.

"Hum, looks like Jube--no, that first letter's a 'K' I guess," and
Mr. Wilson turned it upside down, thinking that would help.

"I made it out a 'G'," said Tom.

"So it is. A 'G'--you're right. Gumbo--Twamba--that's what it is--Gumba
Twamba. I can make it out now all right."

"Well, where, for the love of my old geography, is Gumba Twamba?"
asked the lad with a laugh.

"You've got me, Tom. Must be in Sweden, or Holland, or some of those
foreign countries. I don't often handle letters from there, so I
can't say. Why don't you open your letter and find out who its
from?"

"That's what I ought to have done at first." Quickly Tom ripped open
the much worn and frayed envelope, through the cracks of which some
parts of the letter already could be seen, showing that it had
traveled many thousand miles before it got to the village of
Shopton, in New York State.

"Well, I've got to be traveling on," remarked the postman, as Tom
started to read the mysterious letter. "I'm late as it is. You can
tell me the news when I pass again, Tom."

But the young inventor did not reply. He was too much engaged in
reading the missive, for, no sooner had he perused the first few
lines than his eyes began to open wide in wonder, and his manner
plainly indicated his surprise. He read the letter once, and then
over again, and when he had finished it a second time, he made a
dash for the house.

"I say dad!" cried Tom. "This is great! Great news here! Where are
you, dad? Say, Mrs. Baggert," he called as he saw the motherly
housekeeper, "where's father? I've got great news for him? Where is
he?"

"Out in the shop, I think. I believe Mr. Damon is with him."

"And blessing everything as usual, from his hat to his shoe laces,
I'll wager," murmured Tom as he made his war to the shop where his
father, also an inventor like himself, spent much of his time.
"Well, well, I'm glad Mr. Damon is here, for he'll be interested in
this."

Tom fairly rushed into the buil