"He is going to get well!" were the joyful words he heard, as if in a
dream, and then his strength suddenly came back to him. "The crisis is
just passed, Tom," went on Dr. Gladby, "and your father will recover,
and be stronger than ever. Your good news of winning was like a tonic to
him. Now let me congratulate you on the race." Tom had flashed by
wireless a brief message of his success.
"Dad's news is better than all the congratulations in the world," he
said softly, as he grasped the doctor's hand.
* * * * *
It was a week later. Mr. Swift improved rapidly once the course of the
disease was permanently checked, and he was soon able to sit up. 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.
Pages:
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216