Mr. Swift,
who was feeling pretty good, and who expressed his pleasure in seeing
his old friend again.

"Can't you stay for a few days?" asked Tom, when Mr. Sharp was about to
leave. "If you wait long enough you may be able to help me work up the
clues against Andy Foger, and also witness a trial flight of the
Humming-Bird."

"I'd like to stay, but I can't," was the answer. "The committee will be
anxious for me to get back with my report. Good luck to you. I'll see
you at the time of the race, if not before."

Tom resolved to get right to work seeking clues against his old enemy,
Andy, but the next day Mr. Swift was not so well, and Tom had to remain
in the house. Then followed several days, during which time it was
necessary to do some important work on his craft, and so a week passed
without any information having been obtained.

In the meanwhile Tom had made some cautious inquiries, but had learned
nothing about Andy. He had no chance to interview Pete or Sam, the two
cronies, and he did not think it wise to make a bald request for
information at the Foger home.

Ned Newton could not be of any aid to his friend, as he was kept busy
in the bank night and day, working over a new set of books.

"I wonder how I can find out what I want to know?" mused Tom one
afternoon, when he had done considerable work on the Humming-Bird. "I
certainly ought to do it soon, so as to be able to stop Andy if he's
infringing on my patents. Yet, I don't see how--"

His thoughts were interrupted by hearing a voice outside the shop,
exclaiming:

"Bless my toothpick! I know the way, Eradicate, my good fellow. It
isn't necessary for you to come. As long as Tom Swift is out there,
I'll find him. Bless my horizontal rudder! I'm anxious to see what
progress he's made. I'll find him, if he's about!"

"Yes, sah, he's right in dere," spoke the colored man. "He's workin' on
dat Dragon Fly of his." Eradicate did not always get his names right.

"Mr. Damon!" exclaimed Tom in delight, at the sound of his friend's
voice. "I believe he can help me get evidence against Andy Foger. I
wonder I didn't think of it before! The very thing! I'll do it!"

Chapter Eight

The Empty Shed

"Bless my dark-lantern! Where are you, Tom?" called Mr. Damon as he
entered the dim shed where the somewhat frail-appearing aeroplane
loomed up in the semi-darkness, for it was afternoon, and rather
cloudy. "Where are you?"

"Here!" called the young invent