Chapter VII. A Problem in Sound

Tom Swift looked up with a distinct appearance of being annoyed that was unusual with him, for he was, nearly always, good-natured. But the frown that had replaced the pleasant look on his face while he was talking to Mr. Damon about the projected new air scout was at once wiped away as he looked at the card Jackson held out to him.

"Bring him in right away!" he ordered. "He needn't have stood on that ceremony."

"Well, he said it was a business call," returned the mechanician with a cheerful grin, and he said he wanted it done according to form. So he gave me his card to bring you."

"Who is it?" asked Mr. Damon, with the privilege of an old friend.

"It's Ned Newton," Tom answered; "though why he's putting on all this formality I can't fathom."

Jackson went back to the main gate and told the man on guard there to admit Ned, who had so formally sent in his card.

"Ah, Mr. Swift, I believe?" began the bank employee with that suave, formal air which usually precedes a business meeting.

"That is my name," said Tom, with a suppressed grin, and he spoke as stiffly as though to a perfect stranger.

"Mr. Tom Swift, the great inventor?" went on Ned.

"Yes."

"Ah, then I am at the right place. Just sign here, please, on the dotted line," and be held out a blank form, and a fountain pen to Tom, who took them half mechanically.

"Huh? What's the big idea, Ned?" asked the young inventor, unable longer to carry on the joke. "Is this a warrant for my arrest, or merely a testimonial to you. If it's the latter, and concerns your nerve, I'll gladly sign it."

"Well, it's something like that!" laughed Ned. "That's your application for another block of Liberty Bonds, Tom, and I want you, as a personal favor to me, as a business favor to the bank, and as your plain duty to Uncle Sam, to double your last subscription."

Tom looked at the sum Ned had filled in on the blank form, and uttered a slight whistle of surprise.

"That's all right now," said Ned, with the air of a professional salesman. "You can stand that and more, too. I'm letting you off easy. Why, I got Mary's father--Mr. Nestor--for twice what he took last time, and Mary herself--hard as she's working for the Red Cross--gave me a nice application. So it's up to you to--"

"Nuff said!" exclaimed Tom, sententiously, as he signed his name. "I may have to reconsider my recent refusal of the offer of the Universal Flying Machine Company, though, if I haven't money enough to meet this subscription, Ned."

"Oh, you'll meet it all right! Much obliged," and Ned folded the Liberty Bond subscription paper and put it in his pocket. "But did you turn