"What?" asked Mr. Swift and Tom in the same breath.
"The cash, or, what's just as good, the promise of it. I called
up Mr. Chase, of the Clayton National Bank, and he has agreed to
take the railroad securities I offered him as collateral, and let
me have sixty thousand dollars on them! That will give us cash
enough to weather the storm. Hurrah! We're all right now. Bless
my check book!"
"The Clayton National Bank," remarked Mr. Swift, and his voice
was hopeless. "It's forty miles away, Mr. Damon, and no railroad
around here runs anywhere near it. No one could get there and
back with the cash to-day, in time to save us from ruin. It's
impossible! Our last chance is gone."
"How far did you say it was, Dad?" asked Tom quickly.
"Forty miles there, over forty, I guess, and not very good
roads. We would need to have the cash here before three o'clock
to be of any service to us. No, it's out of the question. The
bank will have to fail!"
"No!" cried the young inventor, and his voice rang out through
the room. "I'll get the cash for you!"
"How?" gasped Mr. Damon. "You can't get there and back in
time?"
"Yes, I can!" cried Tom.
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