Mr. Peterson shook his head.

"I'm not actually in want," he said, "and I couldn't accept a
gift of money, Mr. Swift. This is a straight business
proposition."

"Not much straight business in hunting for a mine that's been
lost for over a century," replied the aged inventor, with a
glance at Mr. Damon, who was still at the window, watching for a
glimpse of Tom on his return trip in the air craft.

"If Tom would go, I'd trail along," said the odd man. "We
haven't done anything worth speaking of since he used his great
searchlight to detect the smugglers. But I don't believe he'll
go. That mining proposition sounds good."

"It is good!" cried Mr. Peterson, with fervor, hoping he had
found a new "prospect" in Mr. Damon.

"But not business-good," declared Mr. Swift, and for some time
the three argued the matter, Mr. Swift continuing to shake his
head.

Suddenly into the room there ran an aged colored man, much
excited.

"Fo' de land sakes!" he cried. "Somebody oughter go out an'
help Massa Tom!"

"Why, what's the matter, Eradicate?" asked Mr. Swift, leaping