"Well, Garret, you never can tell," replied the young inventor, as he told of his experience and the necessity for Mr. Swift going to Albany. "Some of those scoundrels, finding how easy it was to rob me, may try it again, and get some at dad's other valuable models. I'm taking no chances." "That's right, Master Tom. I'll keep steam up in the boiler to-night, though we don't really need it, as your father told me you would probably not run any machinery when he was gone. But with a good head of steam up, and a hose handy, I can give any burglars a hot reception. I almost wish they'd come, so I could get square with them." "I don't, Garret. Well, I guess everything is in good shape. If you hear anything unusual, or the alarm goes off during the night, call me." "I will, Master Tom," and the old engineer, who had a living-room in a shack adjoining the boiler-room, locked the door after Tom left. The young inventor spent the early evening in attaching a new wire to his motor-cycle to replace the one he had purchased while on his disastrous trip. The temporary one was not just the proper thing, though it answered well enough. Then, having done some work on a new boat propeller he was contemplating patenting, Tom felt that it was time to go to bed, as he was tired. He made a second round of the house, looking to doors and windows, until Mrs. Baggert exclaimed: "Oh, Tom, do stop! You make me nervous, going around that way. I'm sure I shan't sleep a wink to-night, thinking of burglars and tramps." Tom laughingly desisted, and went up to his room. He sat up a few minutes, writing a letter to a girl of his acquaintance, for, in spite of the fact that the young inventor was very busy with his own and his father's work, he found time for lighter pleasures. Then, as his eyes seemed determined to close of their own accord, if he did not let them, he tumbled into bed. Tom fancied it was nearly morning when he suddenly awoke with a start. He heard a noise, and at first he could not locate it. Then his trained ear traced it to the dining-room. "Why, Mrs. Baggert must be getting breakfast, and is rattling the dishes," he thought. "But why is she up so early?" It was quite dark in Tom's room, save for a little gleam from the crescent moon, and by the light of this Tom arose and looked at his watch. "Two o'clock," he whispered. "That can't be Mrs. Baggert, unless she's sick, and got up to take some medicine." He listened intently. Below, in the dining-room, he could hear stealthy movements. "Mrs. Baggert would never move around like that," he decided. "She's too heavy. I wonder--it's a burglar--one of the gang has gotten in!" he exclaimed in tense tones. "I'm going to catch him at it!"