horse. Dot vill not drop me to der ground, or run me up a tree, yet! Vot?"
"Very well," said Tom, "only hurry, please."
The young inventor, in his airship, reached home some time before the slow-going doctor got there in his carriage. Mr. Swift was no worse, Tom was glad to find, though he was evidently quite ill.
"So, ve must take goot care of him," said the doctor, when he had examined the patient. "Dr. Gladby he has done much for him, und I can do little more. You must dake care of yourself, Herr Swift, or you vill—but den, vot is der use of being gloomy-minded? I am sure you vill go more easy, und not vork so much."
"I haven't worked much," replied the aged inventor. "I have only been helping my son on a new airship."
"Den dot must stop," insisted the doctor. "You must haf gomplete rest—dot's it—gomplete rest."
"We'll do just as you say, doctor," said Tom. "We'll give up the aeroplane matters, dad, and go away, you and I, where we can't see a blueprint or a pattern, or hear the sound of machinery. We'll cut it all out."
"Dot vould be goot," said Dr. Kurtz ponderously.
"No, I couldn't think of it," answered Mr.
