At that moment there sounded, within the house, the voices of Mr. Swift, and some one else in conversation.
"And so Tom has decided to make a run to the Quaker City in the Butterfly, to-morrow," Mr. Swift was saying, "and he's going to see if he can be of any service to this Mr. Fenwick."
"Bless my watch chain!" exclaimed the other voice. "You don't say so! Why I know Mr. Fenwick very well—he and I used to go to school together, but bless my multiplication tables—I never thought he'd amount to anything! And so he's built an airship; and Tom is going to help him with it? Why, bless my collar button, I've a good notion to go along and see what happens. Bless my very existence, but I think I will!"
"That's Mr. Damon all right," observed Tom, with a smile, as he advanced toward the dining-room, whence the voices proceeded.
"Dat's what I done tole you!" said Eradicate, and, with slow and lagging steps he went back to weed the onion bed.
"How are you, Mr. Damon," called our hero, as he mounted the steps of the porch.
"Why, it's Tom—he's back!" exclaimed the eccentric man. Why, bless my shoe laces, Tom! how are you? I'm real glad to see you. Bless my eyeglasses, but I am! I just returned from
