"I agree with you!" exclaimed Tom. "Come in! We're glad to see you!"

"I called to see if you aren't going on another trip to the North Pole,
or somewhere in the Arctic regions," went on Mr. Damon.

"Why?" inquired Tom.

"Why, then this heavy beard of mine would come in handy. It would keep
my throat and chin warm." And Mr. Damon ran his hands through his
luxuriant whiskers.

"No more northern trips right away," said Tom. "I'm about to build a
speedy monoplane, to take part in the big meet at Eagle Park."

"Oh, yes, I heard about the meet," said Mr. Damon. "I'd like to be in
that."

"Well, I'm building a machine that will carry two," went on Tom, "and if
you think you can stand a speed of a hundred miles an hour, or better,
I'll let you come with me. There are some races where a passenger is
allowed."

"Have you got a razor?" asked Mr. Damon suddenly.

"What for?" inquired Mr. Swift, wondering what the eccentric man was
going to do.

"Why, bless my shaving soap! I'm going to cut off my beard. If I go in a
monoplane at a hundred miles an hour I don't want to make any more
resistance to the wind than possible, and my whiskers would certainly