"Did he warn the others?" inquired the aged inventor.
"Not all of them," answered the president. "Some received letters from a man signing himseld Addison Berg, warning them that our bank was likely to fail any day."
"Addison Berg!" exclaimed Tom. "That must have been the important business he had with Mr. Foger, the day I showed him the watch charm! They were plotting the ruin of our bank then," and he told his father about his disastrous pursuit of the submarine agent.
"Very likely Foger is working with Berg," admitted Mr. Damon. "We will attend to them later. The question is, what can we do to save the bank?"
"Get cash, and plenty of it," advised Mr. Pendergast. "Suppose we go over the whole situation again?" and they fell to talking stocks, bonds, securities, mortgages and interest, until the youth, interested as he was in the situation, could follow it no longer.
"Better go to bed, Tom," advised his father. "You can't help us any, and we have many details to go over."
The lad reluctantly consented, and he was soon dreaming that he was in his electric auto, trying to pull up a thousand pound lump of
