"Oh, I don't know—hadn't thought of a name. I guess 'Air Scout' would be as good as any. That's what it will be—a machine for silently scouting in the air. And now to get down to brass tacks, as the poet says, I believe I will—"
"Gentleman to see you, Mr. Swift," interrupted Jackson.
"Bless my penwiper!" cried Mr. Damon. "More visitors! I hope it isn't Gale or Ware come back to see what they can spy on!"
CHAPTER VII
A PROBLEM IN SOUND
Tom Swift looked up with a distinct appearance of being annoyed that was unusual with him, for he was, nearly always, good-natured. But the frown that had replaced the pleasant look on his face while he was talking to Mr. Damon about the projected new air scout was at once wiped away as he looked at the card Jackson held out to him.
"Bring him in right away!" he ordered. "He needn't have stood on that ceremony."
"Well, he said it was a business call," returned the mechanician with a cheerful grin, "and he said he wanted it done according to form. So he gave me his card to bring you."
"Who is it?" asked Mr. Damon, with the privilege of an old friend.