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the first few minutes of watching Tom click out the messages, the little throng of castaways that had gathered about the shack, moved away. The matter had lost its novelty for them, though, of course, they were vitally interested in the success of Tom's undertaking. Only Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick remained with the young inventor, for he needed help, occasionally, in operating the dynamo, or in adjusting the gasolene motor. Mrs. Nestor, who, with Mrs. Anderson, was looking after the primitive housekeeping arrangements, occasionally strolled up the hill to the little shed.

"Any answer yet, Mr. Swift?" she would ask.

"No," was the reply. "We can hardly expect any so soon," and Mrs. Nestor would depart, with a sigh.

Knowing that his supply of gasolene was limited, Tom realized that he could not run the