“I will, Dad. And now I won’t trouble you and further. Here comes Ned, and we’ll get started on the daily grind.” Mr. Swift, who was writing a book on certain mechanical principles, was glad to be released so he could go to his literary labors. After his father’s departure Tom called a man from the shop and sent his strange caller out to be put to work. “Who is his Royal Whiskerisky?” asked Ned, as he put on his office coat and took his place at his desk. “His name is Barsky—Ivan Barsky,” replied Tom. “I’ve just hired him,” and he gave a brief story of the caller. “Hum—Barsky,” mused Ned, with a smile. “Well, all I have to say is that I hope his bite isn’t as bad as his bark-sky!” and he put his arm in front of his face to ward off a missile which he expected Tom would throw at him following this atrocious joke. “Men have been shot at sunrise for less than that,” chuckled the young inventor. “However, that reminds me, I must tell Jackson to keep his weather eye peeled for this chap. I don’t want him walking off with any valuable templates.” He sent for the foreman, giving him some instructions about the new employee, and Mr. Jackson said: “I’ll look after him, Tom. I saw him go into the pattern shop and sized him up as a tough customer. Though sometimes those fellows do mighty good work. And, as you say, we do need an extra man or two.” Then while Ned plunged into the financial affairs of the company, which was his department, Tom and his foreman went over certain matters that needed looking after. For the Swift Construction Company did a certain amount of manufacturing, and orders were heavy at this season of the year. So it was not until nearly noon that Tom found a chance to ask his chum: “How’s your father? Did he get over the shock?” “Somewhat,” answered Ned. “Of course he isn’t going back there to work?” went on Tom. “I should say not! He doesn’t know yet what to do. In fact, he’s like a man without a country.” “Why not bring him here?” suggested Tom quickly. “Jackson tells me that they are rushed out in the shop on certain lines. This will mean more office work, Ned, and I’m sure you’ve already got all you can handle. I’d be glad to have your father here—that is, if he’d like to come.” “Oh, I’m sure he would, Tom, only——” “Only what?” “I know he wouldn’t like to think that you’d taken him on out of charity.” “Stow that talk!” broke in Tom. “That’s all nonsense! We need an expert accountant in addition to you, Ned. And while I can’t offer your father as responsible a position as he held with the investment concern, still I’d be glad to have him come here.” “He’ll come, Tom, I’ll guarantee that. I’ll telephone him.” So it was arranged, and that afternoon Mr. Newton was given a desk near that of his son in the office. For several days wheels were rapidly humming in the Swift shops. As Tom had said, orders were coming in with a rush, and this, together with work on new inventions, kept the whole place busy.