"What for?"

"Why, they ought to know about such a fellow lurking about
Shopton. If he followed that Western railroad president here--"

"We'll hope that he will follow Mr. Bartholomew away again,"
chuckled Tom. "Mr. Bartholomew won't stay over today. When that
chap finds he has gone he probably will consider that there is no
use in his bothering me any further."

Whether Tom believed this statement or not, he was destined to
realize his mistake within a very short time. At least, the fact
that he was being spied upon and that the enemy meant him
anything but good, seemed proved beyond a doubt that very week.

Having done the little job for Mr. Damon, Tom allowed no other
outside matter to take up his attention. He shut himself into his
private experimental workshop and laboratory at the works each
day. He did not even come out for lunch, letting Rad bring him
down some sandwiches and a thermos bottle of cool milk.

"The young boss is milling over something new," the men said,
and grinned at each other. They were proud of Tom and faithful to
his interests.

Time was when there had been traitors in the works; but
unfaithful hands had been weeded out. There was not a man who
drew a pay envelope from the Swift Construction Company who would
not have done his best to save Tom and his father trouble. Such a