Tom was with him in the room, talking of the great race, and how he had won. He fingered the certified check for ten thousand dollars that,had just come to him by mail.
"You certainly did wonderfully well," said the aged inventor, softly. "Wonderfully well, Tom. I'm proud of you."
"You may well be," added Mr. Damon. "Bless my Shoelaces, but I thought Andy Foger had us there one spell; didn't you, Tom?"
"Indeed I did. But you helped me win, Mr. Damon."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed the odd man.
"Yes, you did. You helped me a lot."
"Well, are you going to keep after more air-prizes, Tom, or are you going to try for something else?" asked his father.
"I don't believe I'll go in any more aeroplane races right away," answered the young inventor. "For some time I've been wanting to complete and perfect my electric rifle. I think I'll begin work on that soon."
"And go hunting?" asked Mr. Damon.
"I think so," answered Tom, dreamily. "I don't know just where, though."
Where he went, and what he shot, will be told in the next volume of this series, to be called:
