met them. But they are reputed to be wealthy, and I hardly think
they would stoop to stealing some inventor's formulae.

"We inventors are a suspicious lot, Ned, as you probably have
found out," he added with a smile. "We imagine the rest of the
world is out to cheat us, and I presume Josephus Baxter is no
exception. Still, there may be some truth in his story. I'll give
him all the help I can. But I'm going into the aerial fire-
fighting game. I've been waiting for something new, and this may
be it."

"You may count on me!" declared Ned. "And now, unless you're
going to sit up all night and start studying chemistry, you'd
better come to bed."

"That's right. Tomorrow is another day. I hope Mr. Baxter gets
some rest. Sleep will improve him a lot, the doctor said."

"I know one friend of yours who will be glad to know that you
are going to start something," remarked Ned, as he and Tom
started for their rooms, for the young manager was staying with
his friend for the night.

"Who?" Tom wanted to know.

"Mr. Wakefield Damon," was the answer. "He hasn't been over
lately, Tom."

"No, he's been off on a little trip, blessing everything from
his baggage check to his suspender buttons," laughed the young