He had to walk, as the roads were
too poor to permit him to use the motor-cycle, and the
airship attracted too much attention to use on a short trip.
He was strolling along, when from the other side of a row of
sand dunes, that lined the uncertain road to Atlantis, he
heard some one speaking. At first the tones were not
distinct, but as the lad drew nearer to the voice he heard
an exclamation.
"Bless my gold-headed cane! I believe I'm lost. He said it
was out this way somewhere, bet I don't see anything of it.
If I had that Eradicate Sampson here now I'd--bless my
shoelaces I don't know what I would do to him."
"Mr. Damon! Mr. Damon!" cried Tom. "Is that you?"
"Me? Of course it's me! Who else would it be?" answered
the voice. "But who are you. Why, bless my liver! If it
isn't Tom Swift!" he cried. "Oh, but I'm glad to see you! I
was afraid I was shipwrecked! Bless my gaiters, how are you,
anyhow? How is your father? How is Mr. Sharp, and all the
rest of them?"
"Pretty well. And you?"
"Me? Oh, I'm all right; only a trifle nervous. I called at
your house in Shopton yesterday, and Eradicate told me, as
well as he could, where you were located. I had nothing to
do, so I thought I'd take a run down here. But what's this I
hear about you? Are you going on a voyage?"
"Yes.
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