A physician was summoned by telephone, and he arrived in his
automobile at the same time that Mr. Damon reached Tom's house.

"Bless my bottle of arnica, Tom!" exclaimed the eccentric man,
with sympathy in his voice. "What's this I hear? One of your men
tells me old Eradicate is killed!"

"Not as bad as that, yet," replied Tom, as he came out, leaving
the doctor to make his first examination. "It was an explosion of
my new aerial fire-fighting chemicals that I left Rad to mix for
me. If anything serious results to him from this I'll drop the
whole business! I'll never forgive myself!"

"It wasn't your fault, Tom. Perhaps he did something wrong,"
said Mr. Damon.

"Yes, it was my fault. I should not have let him take the
chance with a mixture I had tried only a few times. But we'll
hope for the best. How is he, Doctor?" Tom asked a little later
when the physician came out on the porch.

"He's doing as well as can be expected for the present," was
the answer. "I have given him a quieting mixture. His worst
injury seems to be to his face. His hands are cut by broken
glass, but the hurts are only superficial. I think we shall have
to get an eye specialist to look at him in a day or two."

"You mean that he--that he may go blind?" gasped Tom.

"Well, we'll not decide right away," replied the doctor, as