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Updated: July 2, 2025
Damon arrived from his home in Waterfield that day, and, with many "blessings," wanted to know if Tom was ready for the trial of the electrical airship. "Yes, we'll leave for Philadelphia to-morrow," was the answer. "Are we going in the BUTTERFLY? Bless my watch chain, but I like that little machine!"
Further down this same trench Serjeant Archer and "Buller" Clarke looked after the bombs, not quite such a popular weapon now-a-days, and the Pioneers under Serjeant Waterfield and L/Cpl. Wakefield had their home next door.
It was the work of but a few minutes to run it into the shed. Then they all started for the house. "Bless my umbrella! How it rains!" cried Mr. Damon, as he splashed on through numerous puddles. "We got back just in time, Mr. Sharp." "Where did you go?" asked the lad. "Why we took a flight of about fifty miles and stopped at my house in Waterfield for supper. Were you anxious about us?"
"Bless my night cap, I promised my wife I'd be home early to-night, too!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I don't fancy making the trip back to Waterfield in my auto, though. Something will be sure to happen. I'll blow out a tire, or a spark plug will get sooty on me and " "It's raining harder than ever," interrupted Tom. "Better stay here to-night. You can telephone home." Which Mr. Damon did.
There was also the motor compartment, and a steering tower, from which the engines could be controlled. It was in this craft that the seekers after the diamond makers proposed undertaking the trip. Mr. Damon came on from his home in Waterfield about two days before the date set to leave, and Mr. Jenks, had, three days before this, taken up his abode at the Swift home. Mr.
"I had no expectation of seeing him, and we were both surprised when we met on the express." "It stopped at Waterfield, Tom," explained Mr. Damon, "which it doesn't usually do, being an aristocratic sort of train, not given even to hesitating at our humble little town. There were some passengers to get off, which caused the flier to stop, I suppose.
So Tom had not to warn the giant not to chatter about meeting the stranger on the road to Waterfield. If that person with dried red mud on his boots was the spy who had followed Mr.
The friends talked together a little longer, and then Ned had to take his departure to solicit more subscriptions, while Mr. Damon went with him, the eccentric man saying he would go home to Waterfield. "But, bless my overshoes, Tom!" he exclaimed, as he departed, "don't forget to let me know when you have your silent motor working. I want to see it."
As he speeded up his craft, the lad looked about, thinking he might catch sight of Andy Foger, for the bully also owned a boat, called the Red Streak and, more than once, in spite of the fact that Andy's craft was the more powerful, Tom had beaten him in impromptu races. But there was no sign of his rival this morning, and Tom kept on to Waterfield. He found that Mr.
Aw'm sartin sure ov him when aw see him. Aw'll not goo nigh him till somebory cooms cep' he roons away. Aw'm noan fleyed ov him, but aw met not be able to keep mo howd ov him. Oh, mo Mattie! mo Mattie! to leave thi owd faither for sich a mak ov a mon as yon! But yere cooms somebory moor. Enter MRS. CLIFFORD. Mrs. C. No one here? She can never be in his room with him! Mr. Waterfield!
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