He
was about to strike the ragged man, when Tom called out:
"That's Mr. Damon, Rad!"
"Wh--what!" gasped the colored man; and when the situation had been
explained to him, and the necessity for silence impressed upon him, he
turned away, too surprised to utter a word. He sought consolation in the
stable with his mule.
Just what methods Mr. Damon used he never disclosed, but one thing is
certain: That night there came a cautious knock on the door of the Swift
home, and Tom, answering it, beheld his odd friend.
"Well," he asked eagerly, "what luck?"
"Put on a suit of old clothes, and come with me," said Mr. Damon. "We'll
look like two tramps, and then, if we're discovered, they won't know it
was you."
"Have you found out anything?" asked Tom eagerly.
"Not yet; but I've got a key to one of the side doors of the shed, and
we can get in as soon as it's late enough so that everybody there will
be in bed."
"A key? How did you get it?" inquired the youth.
"Never mind," was the answer, with a chuckle.
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