“You shall have it,” promised Mr. X, though some of his colleagues made rather wry faces at Tom’s exaction of his “pound of flesh.” But he was within his rights, and he knew it. In a short time the agreement was drawn up and signed by all of them, and then Mr. X remarked: “Of course this is contingent upon your invention being a success, Mr. Swift. Your broadcasting of songs and music must be clear, the images of the performers on the attached screen must be very plain, not shadowy forms, and the two must synchronize. You must remember that we have not seen your invention. All we know is what we have heard of it.” “From your spies, doubtless,” Tom responded bitterly. “And they could find out very little. But don’t worry. The machine must be perfect before I put it on the market. I am going to have a final test and you may witness it in person or you may send any one you like to report.” “Some of us will probably be on hand when you give a final showing,” said Mr. X. “And now, as it is getting late, I suggest that we adjourn. We want to get back to our homes and you do also, I suppose, Mr. Swift?” “Yes, I don’t feel like spending another night on Rattlesnake Island,” replied Tom, with a smile. “One was enough. I’ll call in my friends and you can come to my final test—say a week from to-night in my private laboratory.” “Thank you,” said Mr. X. Tom bade the men good-night and went out into the darkness, leaving the conspirators to growl somewhat among themselves at having been beaten by a mere youth. “At the same time,” said Mr. X, “I can’t help admiring Tom Swift for the manner in which he turned the tables on us.” “That’s right,” chimed in another. “He’s the pluckiest fellow I ever had any dealings with. And to think, if we’d persisted, he could have had us all arrested and our names and our pictures would have been in the papers. Whew!” “Oh my!” wailed Mr. B. “It’s cost us a pretty penny, but maybe it will be worth it.” Meanwhile Tom, outside the old house, was signaling with his flashlight to call his friends in from their posts about the place. “Is everything all right?” asked Ned, who led one of the four parties. He glided to his chum’s side from the darkness. “Everything is settled, and we get three million dollars for a half interest,” said Tom, producing the agreement. “Hot dog!” gleefully cried Ned. “That’s the best news yet! We sure will need that money, Tom! I couldn’t have held the banks off much longer. Good for you!” In a short time Tom and Ned, with Mr. Damon, Koku and Eradicate were on their way back across Lake Carlopa, leaving the other members of the Swift party to follow in other boats as they pleased. Though Tom Swift had gone to Rattlesnake Island alone as he had been bidden, the setting of his trap called for many of his most trusted men to precede him to the rendezvous. They had gone at intervals so no suspicions would be aroused.