"There you are, Rad!" exclaimed Tom at length.
"Yo' suah am a wonder at inventin'!" cried the colored man gratefully. "I'll cut yo' grass all summah fo' yo' to pay fo' this, Mistah Swift."
"Oh, that's too much. I didn't do a great deal, Rad."
"Well, yo' saved me from bein' swindled, Mistah Swift, an' I suah does 'preciate dat."
"How about the fellow you traded the cracked grindstone to, Rad?"
"Oh, well, ef he done run it slow it won't fly apart, an' he'll do dat, anyhow, fo' he suah am a lazy coon. I guess we am about even there, Mistah Swift."
"All right," spoke Tom with a laugh. "Sharpen it up, Rad, and start in to cut grass. It will soon be summer," and Tom, leaping upon his motor-cycle, was off like a shot.
He found his father in his library, reading a book on scientific matters. Mr. Swift looked up in surprise at seeing his son.
"What! Back so soon?" he asked. "You did make a flying trip. Did you give the model and papers to Mr. Crawford?"
"No, dad, I was robbed yesterday. Those scoundrels got ahead of us, after all. They have
