ship, in Africa, a flood of memory came to him.
"Can it be possible that these are the same missionaries whom Tom and I rescued from the red pygmies?" he murmured. "I must get a look at them."
"Our boat, it is gone I suppose," remarked one of the other men, coming into the motor room.
"I'm afraid so," answered Ned, as he played the light on the doomed craft. Even as he did so he saw a great wave engulf her, and, a moment later she sank. "She's gone," he said softly.
"Too bad!" exclaimed the man. "She was a fine little craft. But how in the world did you happen along to rescue us? Whose airship is this?"
"Tom Swift's," answered Ned, and, at the sound of the name the woman uttered a cry, as she rushed into the motor room.
"Tom Swift!" she exclaimed. "Where is he? Oh, can it be possible that it is the same Tom Swift that rescued us in Africa?"
"I think it is, Mrs. Illingway," spoke Ned quietly, for he now recognized the missionary, though he wondered what she and her husband were doing so far from the Dark Continent.
"Oh, I know you—you're Ned Newton—Tom's chum! Oh, I am so glad! Where is Tom?"
