Tom looked at some plans on his desk, glanced at the world map and was about to answer when Mary broke in with:
“Is this a hold-up?” Her smile took any menace from the words.
“It’s just a little bet among three old friends,” said Mr. Burch, with a chuckle, “and our friend Tom is going to be the goat. I mean he is going to lose the race!” he concluded.
“Not much I’m not!” cried the young inventor, and when Mary looked a bit mystified Mr. Trace explained:
“We were discussing various means of travel, Miss Nestor, and the feat of Jules Verne’s hero in girdling the earth in eighty days. That time has been brought down to about thirty, but Tom’s father declared it could be done within twenty days.”
“That suits me!” cried Tom. “If you give me time to complete the making of my new machine I’ll prove my father to be right.”
“Good boy!” murmured the aged inventor.
“Then you will have a part in this wager,” suggested Mr. Trace.
“That suits me!” went on Tom. “Let me see—what can I do with my share of twenty thousand dollars?” he asked musingly, and with a smile. But the smile faded when he looked at Mary’s face and saw how distressed she was.
“Oh, Tom,” she murmured, “think how near death you were just now in the explosion! And now you are going to risk your life again in one of your strange machines!”