“Wait!” cried Tom suddenly. “I’m coming over. There must be some way——” He hung up without finishing his sentence. To tell the truth he had no idea how to help Mrs. Nestor and Mary. But it seemed to him that it was almost brutal just to remain idle while the sick man slowly lost strength and vitality. He had intended giving his entire attention that day to considering plans for the flying boat that he was determined to build. But his fears for Mr. Nestor and his sympathy for Mary and her mother would not allow of that. He pulled down the roller-top of his desk again and started out of the shops. He had no idea what he could do to help; and yet milling about in his brain there was a hazy idea that there _must_ be something which could be done to aid Mary’s father. If that Dr. Raddiker had only come to consult upon the case! Mary had spoken of him so hopefully. Dr. Raddiker. Another of these crazy foreigners, perhaps—- The thought of the unreadable writing on the Shopton House register the evening before suddenly stabbed Tom Swift’s brain like a ray of light in the darkness. He said afterward that his mind seemed to be suddenly lit up by a startling thought. He started on a run for downtown, not even waiting to get out the car. CHAPTER VI THE PRONOUNCEMENT The clerk of the Shopton House with whom Tom had talked the previous evening was standing in the doorway, grinning widely. He hailed the younger fellow before the latter could put his first question: “Hey, there, Swift! Looking for the Great Unknown?” “That foreigner? Yes. Is he here?” demanded Tom. “Just gone. Couldn’t stand us any longer. We don’t know how to make coffee as they make it in some place he called Vienna. There’s no Vienna in this state.” “He means Vienna, Austria. Did he start for that place before breakfast?” “Well, maybe. Anyway, he got the boy to cart all his truck over to the garage. He is going to leave town at once.” “Not much he won’t, if he’s the man I think he is!” exclaimed Tom, under his breath, and he started for the garage. “I ought to have guessed it last night.” The motor-car Tom had rescued on the road had been repaired and was now standing by the curb. Its owner had hired another driver to take him on his way. Big spectacles and all, the stranger was planted in the back seat with his goods and chattels around him. He welcomed Tom Swift with a sort of sour smile. “They tell me you are an inventor and a young man of property, yes—no?” began the peculiar man. “So it would be to insult you to offer you pay for what you did for me last evening. Yes?” “You can insult me by offering money, all right,” answered Tom. “But I mean to exact payment for helping you.” “Ach! Yes? Indeed? And how shall I pay you?” “You are Dr. Raddiker!” exclaimed the young fellow. “For sure. Dr. Simon Raddiker. Undt I mean to get away from this place soon. What is your bill?”