failure. But I am going to start on another gun soon, and—Tom Swift—I am going to try to beat you!"
"All right, General," answered Tom, genially. "May the best gun win!"
"Bless my powder box!" cried Mr. Damon. "That's the way to talk."
General Waller was much interested in going about Tom's shop, and expressed his surprise at the many inventions he saw. While ordnance matters, big guns and high explosives were his hobby, nevertheless the airships were a source of wonder to him.
"How do you do it, Tom?" he asked.
"Oh, by keeping at it," was the modest answer. "Then my good friends here—Ned and Mr. Damon—help me."
"Bless my check book!" exclaimed the odd gentleman. "It is very little help I give, Tom."
General Waller soon took his departure, promising to call again, to see Tom's test if one were held. He also repeated his determination to set the Secret Service men at work to discover the mysterious German.
"I can't imagine who would want to injure you or me, Tom Swift," he said.
"Do you think they wanted to injure you, General?" asked Mr. Damon.
