"But they can't invent an electric moving picture camera, and, if they could, they wouldn't know enough to take pictures with it. It's got to be you or no one, Tom Swift. Look here, I'll make it fifteen thousand dollars above expenses."
"No, I'm sorry, but I can't go. My work here keeps me too busy.
"Oh, pshaw! Now, look here, Tom Swift! Do you know who sent me to see you?"
"It was Mr. Nestor, who has a daughter named Mary, I believe. Mr. Nestor is one of the directors in our company, and one day, when he told me about you sending a wireless message from Earthquake Island, I knew you would be the very man for me. So now you see you'll be doing Mr. Nestor a favor, as well as me, if you go on this trip."
Tom was somewhat surprised, yet he realized that Mr. Period was speaking the truth. Mr. Nestor was identified with many new enterprises. Yet the youth was firm.
"I really can't go," said our hero. "I'd like to, but I can't. I'd like to oblige Mr. Nestor, for—well, for more reasons than one," and Tom blushed slightly. "But it is out of the question. I really can't go."
"But you must!" insisted the camera man. "I won't take 'no' for an answer. You've got to go, Tom Swift, do you hear that? You've go to go?"
Mr. Period was apparently very much excited. He strode over to Tom and smote his hands together to emphasize what he said. Then he shook his finger at Tom, to impress the importance of the matter on our hero.
"You've just got to go!" he cried. "You're the only one who can help me, Tom. Do go! I'll pay you well, and—oh, well, I know you don't need the money, exactly, but—say, you've got to go!"
In his earnestness Mr. Period laid his hand on Tom's arm. The next instant something happened.