esitate a bit is a Jack Johnson or a Bertha shell, and
it's got to be a pretty big one, and in the right place, to do much
damage. These tanks are great, and there's nothing like 'em."

"Oh, yes there is, Ned!"

"There is!" cried Ned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean there may be something like them--soon."

"There may? Say, Tom--"

"Now don't ask me a lot of questions, Ned, for I can't answer them.
When I say there may be something like them, I mean it isn't beyond the
realms of possibility that some one--perhaps the Germans--may turn out
even bigger and better tanks."

"Oh!" And Ned's voice showed his disappointment. "I thought maybe you
were in on that game yourself, Tom. Say, couldn't you get up something
almost as good as this?" and he indicated the picture in the paper.
"Isn't that wonderful?"

"Oh, well, it's good, Ned, but there are others. Yes, Dad, I'm coming,"
he called, as he saw his father beckoning to him from a distant
building.

"Well, I've got to get along," said Ned. "But I certainly am
disappointed, Tom. I thought you'd go into a fit over this
picture--it's one of the first allowed to get out of England, my London
friend said. And instead of enthusing you're as cold as a clam;" and
Ned shook his head in puzzled and disappointed fashion as he walked
slowly along beside the young inventor.

They passed a new building, one of the largest in the group of the many
comprising the Swift plant. Ned looked at the door which bore a notice
to the effect that no one was admitted unless bearing a special permit,
or accompanied by Mr. Swift or Tom.

"What's this, Tom?" asked Ned. "Some new wrinkle?"

"Yes, an invention I'm working on. It isn't in shape yet to be seen."

"It must be something big, Tom," observed Ned, as he viewed the large
building.

"It is."

"And say, what a whopping big fence you've got around the back yard!"
went on the young banker. "Looks like a baseball field, but it would
take some scrambling on the part of a back-lots kid to get over it."

"That's what it's for--to keep people out."

"I see! Well, I've got to get along. I'm a bit back in my day's quota
of selling Liberty Bonds, and I've got to hustle. I'm sorry I bothered
you about that tank picture, Tom."

"Oh, it wasn't a bother--don't think that for a minute, Ned! I was glad
to see it."

"Well, he didn't seem so, and his manner was certainly queer," mused
Ned, as he walked away, and turned in time to see Tom enter the