, you can make the
arrangements for Mr. Baxter to use our big laboratory. And let him have
credit for any chemicals he needs. Have them put on my bill, for I am
buying a lot myself."

"I'll never forget this," said Mr. Baxter, and there were tears in his
eyes as he shook hands with Tom, who tried to make light of his
generous act.

Tom, after the wrecking of his laboratory, in which accident poor
Eradicate was injured, had built himself another--two others, in fact,
after having shared Mr. Baxter's temporary one for a time. Tom put up
the most completely equipped laboratory that could be devised, and he
also erected a smaller one for his own personal use, the main one being
at the disposal of his father and the various heads of the different
departments of the Shopton plant.

The little conference broke up, and Tom was on his way to his own
special private laboratory when there came the sound of some excitement
in the corridor outside and Mr. Damon burst in.

"Bless my accident policy, Tom! what's this I hear?" he asked, all in a
fluster.

"I'm sure I don't know," answered the young inventor, with a smile.
"What about?"

"About you and Mary Nestor being killed!" burst out Mr. Damon. "I
heard you fell in the aeroplane and were both dashed to pieces!"

"If you can believe the evidence of your own eyes, I'm far from being
in that state," laughed Tom. "And as for Mary, she just left here with
Ned Newton."

"Thank goodness!" sighed Mr. Damon, sinking into a chair. "Bless my
elevator! I rushed over as soon as I heard the news, and I was almost
afraid to come in. I'm so glad it didn't happen!"

"No gladder than I," said Tom. "We had to make a forced landing, that
was all," and he made as light of the incident as possible when he saw
the look of terror in his father's eyes.

"Some people in Waterford saw you going down," went on Mr. Damon, "and
they told me."

"It was a false alarm," replied Tom. "And now, Mr. Damon, if you want
to smell some perfumes come with me."

"Are you going into that line, Tom?" asked the eccentric man. "Bless
my handkerchief, my wife will be glad of that!"

"I mean I'm going to experiment some more with fire-extinguishing
chemicals," laughed the young inventor. "If you want to--"

"Bless my gas mask, I should say not!" cried Mr. Damon. "I don't see
how you stand those odors, Tom Swift."

"Guess I'm used to 'em," was the answer. And then, leaving his father
to entertain Mr. Damon