"My son! You have come to arrest my son?" he stammered.
The chief nodded grimly.
"Upon what charge?" faltered the father.
"On a charge of breaking into the Shopton National Bank last night, and stealing from the vault seventy-five thousand dollars in currency!"
"Seventy-five thousand dollars! Tom accused of robbing the bank!" faltered Mr. Swift.
"That is the charge, and we've come to arrest him," broke in Constable Higby.
"Where is he?" added the chief.
"This charge is false! Absolutely false!" shouted the aged inventor.
"That may be," admitted the chief shaking his head. "But the charge has been made, and we hold the warrant. The courts will settle it. We must now arrest Tom. Where is he?"
"He isn't here!" cried Mr. Swift, and small blame to him if there was a note of triumph in his voice. "Tom sailed away not half an hour ago in the airship Red Cloud! You can't arrest him!"
"He's escaped!" shouted the constable. "I told you, chief, that he was a slippery customer, and that we'd better come before breakfast!"
"Dry up!" commanded the chief testily. "So he's foiled us, eh? Run away when he knew we
