“Item,” droned the retired manufacturer as he scanned his paper, “a wager is entered into this third day of June to the effect that if Tom Swift can circle the globe inside of twenty days, actual time, in any machine or machines of his own or any make, then I, Thornton Burch, and I, Medwell Trace, agree that we will each and severally pay to Barton Swift the sum of ten thousand dollars. If, on the other hand, Tom Swift fails to circle the globe inside of twenty days flat time, then the said Barton Swift will pay each and severally to the said Burch and Trace the sum of ten thousand dollars.”
“Suits me!” exclaimed Mr. Trace, after a moment of thought.
“That’s my understanding of the wagers,” assented Mr. Swift.
“Then we’ll all sign this,” suggested Mr. Burch, “and Mr. Damon can put his name down as a witness and also keep this agreement. There is no need of putting up any money among gentlemen,” he added, and this was assented to.
“What about a time limit?” asked Mr. Damon. “I mean the trip ought to be undertaken and finished within a stipulated time.”
“We’ll say six months from now,” suggested Mr. Burch, and, there being no objection, this was written in.
One after another the four signed, Mr. Damon finally as a witness.
Hardly had the last of the fountain pens ceased scratching than there was reflected across Mr. Swift’s private office a flash of fire, followed by a dull, booming sound that seemed to shake the whole building.
“An explosion!” cried Mr. Damon, and from without, while the men looked anxiously at one another, a voice cried:
“The works are on fire! They’ve been blown up! The works are on fire!”