Dr. Kurtz looked as grave as did Dr. Gladby when he had made an examination of the patient. Mr. Swift was still in a semi-conscious condition, hardly breathing as he rested on the bed where they had placed him after the fire.  
"Vell," said the German physician, after a long silence, "vot is your obinion, my dear Gladby?"
 
"I think an operation is necessary."
 
"Yes, dot is so; but you know vot kind of an operation alone vill safe him; eh, my dear Gladby?"
 
Dr. Gladby nodded.
 
"It will be a rare and delicate one," he said. "There is but one surgeon I know of who can do it."
 
"You mean Herr Hendrix?" asked Dr. Kurtz.
 
"Yes, Dr. Edward Hendrix, of Kirkville. If he can be induced to come I think there is a chance of saving Mr. Swift's life. I'll speak to Tom about it."
 
The two physicians, who had been consulting together, summoned the youth from another room, where, with Mrs. Baggert and Mr. Jackson he had been anxiously awaiting the verdict.
 
"What is it?" the young inventor asked Dr. Gladby.
 
The medical man told him to what conclusion he and his colleague had arrived, adding:
 
"We advise that Dr. Hendrix be sent for at once. But I need hardly tell you, Tom, that he is a noted¹ specialist, and his services are in great demand. He is hard to get."
 
"I'll pay him any sum he asks!" burst out the youth. "I'll spend all my fortune—and I have made considerable money of late—I'll spend every cent to get my father well! Money need not stand in the way, Dr. Gladby."
 
"I knew that, Tom. Still Dr. Hendrix is a very busy man, and it is hard to induce him to come a long distance. It is over a hundred miles to Kirkville, and it is an out-of-the-way place. I never could understand why Dr. Hendrix settled there. But there he is, and if we want him he will have to come from there. The worst of it is that there are few trains, and only a single railroad line from there to Shopton."
 
"Then I'll telegraph," decided² Tom. "I'll offer him his own price, and ask him to rush here as soon as he can."
 
"You had better let Dr. Kurtz and me attend to that part of it," suggested the physician. "Dr. Hendrix would hardly come on the request of some one whom he did not know. I'll prepare a telegram, briefly³ explaining the case. It is the sort of an operation Dr. Hendrix is much interested in, and I think he will come on that account, if for no other reason. I'll write out the message, and you can have Eradicate⁴ take it to the telegraph office."
 
"I'll take it myself!" exclaimed Tom, as he got ready to go out into the night with the urgent request. "Is there any immediate⁵ danger for my father?" he asked.
 
"No; not any immediate danger," replied Dr. Gladby. "But the operation is imperative⁶ if he is to live. It is his one and only chance."
 
Tom thought only of his father as he hurried on through the night. Even the prospect⁷ of the great race, so soon to take place, had no part in his mind.
 
"I'll not race until I'm sure dad is going to get better," he decided. With the message to the noted specialist Tom also sent one to Mr. Damon, telling him the news, and asking him to come to Shopton. Tom felt that the presence of the odd gentleman would help him, and Mr. Damon, who first intended to stay on at the Swift home until he and Tom departed for Eagle Park, had gone back to his own residence to attend to some business Tom knew he would come in the morning, and Mr. Damon did arrive on the first train.
 
"Bless my soul!" he exclaimed with ready sympathy, as he extended his hand to Tom. "What's all this?" The young inventor told him, beginning with the fire that had been the cause of the excitement which produced the change in Mr. Swift.
 
"But I have great hopes that the specialist will be able to cure him," said Tom, for, with the coming of daylight, his courage had returned to him. "Dr. Gladby and Dr. Kurtz depend a great deal on Dr. Hendrix," he said.
 
"Yes, he certainly is a wonderful man. I have heard a great deal about him. I have no doubt but what he will cure your father. But about the fire? How did it start?"
 
"I don't know, but now that I have a few hours to spare before the doctor can get here, I'm going to make an examination."
 
"Bless my penwiper, but I'll help you."
 
Tom went into the house, to inquire of Mrs. Baggert, for probably the tenth time that morning, how his father was doing. Mr. Swift was still in a semi-conscious condition, but he recognized Tom, when the youth stood at his bedside.
 
"Don't worry about me, son," said the brave old inventor, as he took Tom's hand. "I'll be all right. Go ahead and get ready for the race. I want you to win!"
 
Tears came into Tom's eyes. Would his father be well enough to allow him to take part in the big event? He feared not.
 
By daylight it was seen that quite a hole had been burned in the aeroplane shed. Tom and Mr. Damon, accompanied by Mr. Jackson, walked through the place.
 
"And you say the fire broke out right after you had seen the mysterious airship hovering⁸ over the house?" asked the eccentric man.
 
"Well, not exactly after," answered Tom, "but within an hour or so. Why do you ask?"
 
But Mr. Damon did not answer. Something on the floor of the shed, amid a pile of blackened and charred

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