"No," spoke Ned, "and I have a great deal of hope in the proverbial Swift luck, Tom."
"Well, I only hope it holds good this time!" laughed the young inventor.
"There are a good many things that can go wrong," observed Ned. "The least little slip-up may spoil your traps, Tom."
"I know it, Ned. But I've got to take the chance. We've just got to do something for Mrs. Damon. She's wearing herself out by worrying," he added in a low voice, for indeed the wife of his friend felt the absence of her husband greatly. She had lost flesh, she ate scarcely anything, and her nights were wakeful ones of terror.
"What if this fails?" asked Ned.
"Then I'm going to work that button clue to the limit," replied Tom. "I'll go to Boylan and see what he and Peters have to say."
"If you'd done as I suggested you'd have gone to them first," spoke Ned. "You'll find they're mixed up in this."
"Maybe; but I doubt it. I tell you there isn't a clue leading to Peters—as yet."
"But there will be," insisted Ned. "You'll see that I'm right this time."
"I can't see it, Ned. As a matter of fact, I would have gone to Boylan about that button
