late, but I saw the whole race. Wasn't it glorious? I'm so glad you won!" Tom was too, now, but he shrank back when Miss Nestor held out both daintily gloved hands to him. His hands were covered with oil and dirt.
"As if I cared for my gloves!" she cried, and she took possession of his hands, a proceeding to which Tom was nothing loath. "Are you going to race any more?" she asked, as he walked along by her side, away from the gathering crowd.
"I don't know," he replied. "My car is speedier than I thought it was. Perhaps I may enter it in other contests."
But what Tom Swift did later on will be told in another volume, to be called, "Tom Swift and His Wireless Message; or, The Castaways of Earthquake Island"—a strange tale of shipwreck and mystery.
The run back home was made without incident, save for a broken chain, easily repaired, the day following the race, and Tom later received a number of invitations to give exhibitions of speed. Several automobile manufacturers wanted to secure the rights to his machine, but he said he desired to consider the matter before acting. He did not forget his promise to Mrs. Baggert, regarding the dia-
