"Perhaps it's the same person who took the plans!" suggested Mr. Swift.

"Hold on, dere!" yelled Eradicate again.

Then a voice replied:

"Bless my insurance policy! What's the matter? Have there been burglars
around? Why all these precautions? Bless my steam heater! Don't you know
me?"

"Mr. Damon!" cried Tom, a look of pleasure coming over his face. "Mr.
Damon is coming!"

"So I should judge," responded Mr. Swift, with a smile. "I wonder why
Eradicate didn't recognize him?"

They learned why a moment later, for on looking from the library window,
Tom saw the colored man coming up the walk behind a well-dressed
gentleman.

"Why, mah goodness! It's Mr. Damon!" exclaimed Eradicate. "I didn't know
yo', sah, wif dem whiskers on! I didn't, fo' a fac'!"

"Bless my razor! I suppose it does make a difference," said the
eccentric man. "Yes, my wife thought I'd look better, and more sedate,
with a beard, so I grew one to please her. But I don't like it. A beard
is too warm this kind of weather; eh, Tom?" And Mr. Damon waved his hand
to the young inventor and his father, who stood in the low windows of
the library. "Entirely too warm, bless my finger-nails, yes!"