"Is the locomotive they are using out there a very marvelous machine?"
asked the girl, with added interest.

"No more marvelous than the big electric motors that drag the trains
into New York City, for instance, through the tunnels. Steam engines
cannot be used in those tunnels for obvious, as well as legal, reasons.
They are all wonderful machines, using third-rail power.

"But that Jandel patent that Mr. Bartholomew is using out there on the
H. & P. A. is probably the highest type of such motors. It is up to us
to beat that. Fortunately I got a pass into the Jandel shops a few
months ago and I studied at first hand the machine Mr. Bartholomew is
using."

"Isn't that great!" cried Mary.

"Well, it helps some. I at least know in a general way the 'how' of the
construction of the Jandel locomotive. It is simple enough. Too simple
by far, I should say, to get both speed and power. We'll see," and he
nodded his head thoughtfully.

Tom did not stay long with the girl, for it was already late in the
evening when he had arrived at her house. As he got up to depart Mary's
anxiety for his safety revived.

"I wish you would take care now, Tom. Those men may hound you."

"What for?" chuckled the young inventor. "They have the notes they
wanted."

"But that very thing--the fact that you fooled them--will make them
more angry. Take care."

"I have a means of looking out for myself, after all," said Tom
quietly, seeing that he must relieve her mind. "I let that fellow get
away with my wallet; but I won't let him hurt me. Don't fear."

She had opened the door. The lamplight fell across porch and steps, and
in a broad white band even to the gate and sidewalk. There was a
motor-car slowing down right before the open gate.

"Who's this?" queried Tom, puzzled.

A sharp voice suddenly was raised in an exclamatory explosion.

"Bless my breakshoes! is that Tom Swift? Just the chap I was looking
for. Bless my mileage-book! this saves me time and money."

"Why, it's Mr. Wakefield Damon," Mary cried, with something like relief
in her tones. "You can ride home in his car, Tom."

"All right, Mary. Don't be afraid for me," replied Tom Swift, and ran
down the walk to the waiting car.

"Bless my vest buttons! Tom Swift, my heart swells when I see you--"

"And is like to burst off the said vest buttons?" chuckled the young
fellow, stepping in beside his eccentric friend who blessed everything
inanimate in his florid speech.