o make a trip to Shopton, in New
York State, where the Swift home was located, after some tools and
apparatus that his father wanted to obtain from his workshop there.

"You and Mr. Jackson have put on several new plates," observed the lad
after a pause.

"Yes," admitted his father. "Garret and I weren't idle, were we,
Garret?" and he nodded to the aged engineer, who had been in his employ
for many years.

"No; and I guess we'll soon have her in the water, Tom, now that you
and Mr. Sharp are here to help us," replied Garret Jackson.

"We ought to have Mr. Damon here to bless the submarine and his liver
and collar buttons a few times," put in Mr. Sharp, who brought in
another bundle. He referred to an eccentric individual Who had recently
made an airship voyage with himself and Tom, Mr. Damon's peculiarity
being to use continually such expressions as: "Bless my soul! Bless my
liver!"

"Well, I'll be glad when we can make a trial trip," went on Tom. "I've
traveled pretty fast on land with my motorcycle, and we certainly have
hummed through the air. Now I want to see how it feels to scoot along
under water."

"Well, if everything goes well we'll be in position to make a trial
trip inside of a month," remarked the aged inventor. "Look here, Mr.
Sharp, I made a change in the steering gear, which I'd like you and Tom
to consider."

The three walked around to the rear of the odd-looking structure, if an
object shaped like a cigar can be said to have a front and rear, and
the inventor, his son, and the aeronaut were soon deep in a discussion
of the technicalities connected with under-water navigation.

A little later they went into the house, in response to a summons from
the supper bell, vigorously rung by Mrs. Baggert. She was not fond of
waiting with meals, and even the most serious problem of mechanics was,
in her estimation, as nothing compared with having the soup get cold,
or the possibility of not having the meat done to a turn.

The meal was interspersed with remarks about the recent airship flight
of Tom and Mr. Sharp, and discussions about the new submarine. This
talk went on even after the table was cleared off and the three had
adjourned to the sitting-room. There Mr. Swift brought out pencil and
paper, and soon he and Mr. Sharp were engrossed in calculating the
pressure per square inch of sea water at a depth of three miles.

"Do you intend to go as deep as that?" asked Tom, looking up from a
paper he