“And he starts in a day or two for Iceland. Br-r-r! That’s one cold country, I bet! Cold! Iceland! Why, if Mr. Nestor went there for a few weeks—Great Scott!” exclaimed Tom Swift, suddenly rising and forgetting all about his bamboo stick and pigs’ bladders floating on the lake.
“What have I been thinking of? Wakefield Damon is just the man for us!”
He started away from the lake at top speed, forgetting for the time all about his plans for a flying boat that would astonish the world.
CHAPTER VIII
THE EXPEDITION SETS OFF
Tom Swift was quite sure that Mr. Wakefield Damon had not been up from Waterfield since the specialist had diagnosed Mr. Nestor’s trouble, and probably had not heard of Dr. Raddiker’s advice. The last Tom had heard from his eccentric friend, he was making preparations to leave for New York very shortly.
The young inventor did not even halt at the house to tell his father what he purposed doing; but he got out his electric runabout and made as good time as the town speed ordinance allowed to Mary Nestor’s house.
Mary and her mother were in no more cheerful state of mind than they had been when Tom had last seen them. They had canvassed all the possible ways they could think of to bring about the desired trip for Mr. Nestor into the North, but had accomplished nothing.
“Every way seems shut by a door that is barred and locked, Tom,” sighed Mary to her sympathetic friend. “We do not know what to do.”
“Put on your hat and jacket and come for a ride,” proposed the young fellow.
“But that won’t help father,” she complained. “And I ought not to take you from your work and let you drive me about the country. It isn’t right.”