“Miss Nestor said to be sure and tell him she wasn’t at all put out because he didn’t come,” said Mrs. Baggert. “She knows it must be some good reason that kept him away.”
“I hope it is,” said Mr. Swift. “But it isn’t like Tom to stay away without sending some word.”
As the hours passed and the young inventor neither returned nor communicated, the anxiety in his father’s mind grew, until, about midnight when the front door was heard to open, Mr. Swift cried:
“Is that you, Tom? Where have you been? Why didn’t you send some word? And you have broken your promise to call on Mary!”
“This isn’t Tom,” came in the voice of Ned Newton, who, of late, had been living at the Swift home. “But you don’t mean to tell me Tom isn’t here! I was just going to tell him he was in for a bad half hour the next time he called on Mary.”
“No, Ned, Tom isn’t here,” said Mr. Swift, who had sat up past his usual retiring hour to meet his son when he should arrive. “And he isn’t over at Mary’s house, either.”
“I know he isn’t there,” Ned said. “Helen and I stopped in on our way back from the pictures to find out why we hadn’t seen those two at the show. We found Mary a bit disturbed because Tom had neither called nor telephoned. That’s why I was going to tell him he was in for a bad time when next he sees Mary.”
“But he isn’t here,” said Mr. Swift. “I can’t understand it. He went over to Shopton directly after supper, Mrs. Baggert says, and he hasn’t returned.”
“Oh, yes, he came back,” Ned replied quickly. “I saw him.”
“Where?” cried the aged inventor.