"I wonder if there's a hole where I could look through,"
said Mr. Nestor to himself. "Of course I don't believe in
spying on what another man is doing, and yet I'm too good a
friend of Tom's to want to see him make a fool of himself.
He ought to be in the army, or helping Uncle Sam in some
way. And yet if he spends all his time on some foolish
contraption, like a new kind of traction plow, what good is
that? If I could get a glimpse of it, I might drop a
friendly hint in his ear."
But there were no cracks in the fence, or, if there were,
it was too dark to see them, and also too dark to behold
anything on the other side of the barrier. So Mr. Nestor,
wondering much, kept on his way.
It was a day or so after this that Ned Newton paid a visit
to the Swift home. Mr. Swift was not in the house, being out
in one of the various buildings, Mrs. Baggert said.
"Where's Tom?" asked the bond salesman.
"Oh, he hasn't come back from Washington yet," answered
the housekeeper.
"He is making a long stay."
"Yes, be went about a week ago on some business.
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