"Oh, Tom Swift! I'm so glad to see you!"

Mrs. Damon clasped her arms, in motherly fashion, about the young
inventor. He held her close, and his own eyes were not free from
tears as he witnessed the grief of his best friend's wife.

"Now, don't worry, Mrs. Damon," said Tom, sympathetically.
"Everything will be all right," and he led her to a chair.

"All right, Tom! How can it be?" and the lady raised a tear-
stained face. "My husband has disappeared, without a word! It's
just as if the earth had opened and swallowed him up! I can't find
a trace of him! How can it be all right?"

"Well, we'll find him, Mrs. Damon. Don't worry. Ned and I will get
right to work, and I'll have all the police and detectives within
fifty miles on the search--if we have to go that far."

"Oh, it's awfully good of you, Tom. I--I didn't know who else to
turn to in my trouble but you."

"And why shouldn't you come to me? I'd do anything for you and Mr.
Damon. Now tell me all about it."

Tom and Ned had just arrived at the Damon home in the airship, to
find the wife of the eccentric man almost distracted over her
husband's strange disappearance.

"It happened last night," Mrs. Damon said, when she was somewhat
composed. "Last night about twelve o'clock."