"Well, I'll tell you why. Some time ago there was a stranger in here, asking about your father's work. I told Mr. Swift of it at the time. The stranger said then that he and some others were thinking of opening a machine shop, and he wanted to find out whether they would be likely to get any jobs from your father. I told the man I knew nothing about Mr. Swift's business, and he went away. I didn't hear any more of it, though of course I didn't want to lose your father's trade. Now a funny thing happened. Only this morning the same man was back here, and he was making particular inquiries about your father's private machine shops." "He was?" exclaimed Tom excitedly. "Yes. He wanted to know where they were located, how they were laid out, and what sort of work he did in them." "What did you tell him?" "Nothing at all. I suspected something, and I said the best way for him to find out would be to go and see your father. Wasn't that right?" "Sure. Dad doesn't want his business known any more than he can help. What do you suppose they wanted?" "Well, the man talked as though he and his partners would like to buy your father's shops." "I don't believe he'd sell. He has them arranged just for his own use in making patents, and I'm sure he would not dispose of them." "Well, that's what I thought, but I didn't tell the man so. I judged it would be best for him to find out for himself." "What was the man's name?" "He didn't tell me, and I didn't ask him." "How did he look?" "Well, he was well dressed, wore kid gloves and all that, and he had a little black mustache." Tom started, and Mr. Merton noticed it. "Do you know him?" he asked. "No," replied Tom, "but I saw--" Then he stopped. He recalled the man he had seen in the post-office. He answered this description, but it was too vague to be certain. "Did you say you'd seen him?" asked Mr. Merton, regarding Tom curiously. "No--yes--that is--well, I'll tell my father about it," stammered Tom, who concluded that it would be best to say nothing of his suspicions. "I'll be back right after dinner, Mr. Merton. Please have the bolts ready for me, if you can." "I will. Is your father going to use them in a new machine?" "Yes; dad is always making new machines," answered the youth, as the most polite way of not giving the proprietor of the shop any information. "I'll be back right after dinner," he called as he went out to get on his wheel. Tom was much puzzled. He felt certain that the man in the post-office and the one who had questioned Mr. Merton were the same.