“I’d rather come when just you, and the turnovers and the cook are there,” declared Tom, boldly, and Mary, with a blush, made ready to leave the electric car.

“Thank you,” she said, in a low voice.

“If I can’t help you select a cook,” went on Tom, “at least let me call and take you home when you have engaged one.”

“Oh, it will be too much trouble,” protested Miss Nestor.

“Not at all.  I have only to send a message, and get some piano wire, and then I’ll call back here for you.  I’ll take you and the new cook back home flying.”

“All right, but don’t fly so fast.  The cook may get frightened, and leave before she has a chance to make an apple turnover.”

“I’ll go slower.  I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” called Tom, as he swung the car out away from the curb, while Mary Nestor went into the intelligence office.

Tom wrote and sent this message to Mr. Hostner Fenwick, of Philadelphia: 

“Will come on to-morrow in my aeroplane, and aid you all I can.  Will not promise to make your electric airship fly, though.  Father sends regards.”

“Just rush that, please,” he said to the telegraph agent, and the latter, after reading it over, remarked: 

“It’ll rush itself, I reckon, being all about airships, and things like that,” and he laughed as Tom paid him.

Selecting several sizes of piano wire of great strength, to use as extra guy-braces on the Butterflv, Tom re-entered his electric car, and hastened back to the intelligence office, where he had left his friend.  He saw her standing at the front door, and before he could alight, and go to her, Miss Nestor came cut to meet him.

“Oh, Tom!” she exclaimed, with a little tragic gesture, “what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” he answered good-naturedly.  “Does the new cook refuse to come unless you do away with apple turnovers?”

“No, it isn’t that.  I have engaged a real treasure, I’m sure, but as soon as I mentioned that you would take us home in the electric automobile, she flatly refused to come.  She said walking was the only way she would go.  She hasn’t been in this country long.  But the worst of it is that a rich woman has just telephoned in for a cook, and if I don’t get this one away, the rich lady may induce her to come to her house, and I’ll be without one!  Oh, what shall I do?” and poor Mary looked quite distressed.

“Humph!  So she’s afraid of electric autos; eh?” mused Tom.  “That’s queer.  Leave it to me, Mary, and perhaps I can fix it.  You want to get her away from here in a hurry; don’t you?”

“Yes, because servants are so scarce, that they are engaged almost as soon as they register at the intelligence office.  I know the one I have hired is suspicious of me, since I have mentioned your car, and she’ll surely go with Mrs. Duy Puyster when she comes.  I’m sorry I spoke of the automobile.”

“Well, don’t worry.  It’s partly my fault, and perhaps I can make amends.  I’ll talk to the new cook,” decided the young inventor.