"Ah, Mr. Swift, I believe?" began the bank employee with that
suave, formal air which usually precedes a business meeting.

"That is my name," said Tom, with a suppressed grin, and he
spoke as stiffly as though to a perfect stranger.

"Mr. Tom Swift, the great inventor?" went on Ned.

"Yes."

"Ah, then I am at the right place. Just sign here, please, on
the dotted line," and be held out a blank form, and a fountain
pen to Tom, who took them half mechanically.

"Huh? What's the big idea, Ned?" asked the young inventor,
unable longer to carry on the joke. "Is this a warrant for my
arrest, or merely a testimonial to you. If it's the latter, and
concerns your nerve, I'll gladly sign it."

"Well, it's something like that!" laughed Ned. "That's your
application for another block of Liberty Bonds, Tom, and I want
you, as a personal favor to me, as a business favor to the bank,
and as your plain duty to Uncle Sam, to double your last
subscription."

Tom looked at the sum Ned had filled in on the blank form, and
uttered a slight whistle of surprise.

"That's all right now," said Ned, with the air of a
professional salesman. "You can stand that and more, too. I'm