you think it will be too much for me to stand all in one day—your news and that about Uncle Sam's success in raising funds and troops."
"Oh, I guess you can stand it," said Tom with a smile. "It's this. Dad is coming over!"
"He is? To fight?"
"Well, no, not actively. He's a little too old for that, I'm afraid, though he's anxious enough. But he left for Paris the day he wrote this. He ought to be here now, for he would, most likely, get off ahead of the mail, which, sometimes, seems slower than molasses."
"That's right!" exclaimed Jack, with such energy that Tom asked:
"What's the matter? Haven't you heard from Bessie lately?"
"Oh—that!" murmured Jack, but Tom noticed that his friend blushed under his coat of tan. "Go on," Jack said, a moment later, "tell me about your father. Is the French government going to give him a big order for his stabilizer, now that we got that paper away from that sneak of a Tuessig?"
"Well, I guess dad's trip here has something to do with his aeroplane device, but he hints in his letter about something else. He said he didn't want to write too much for fear a spy might get hold of the information. But you know my father is an expert on ordnance mat-
