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"Tom, this is certainly wonderful reading Over a hundred million dollars' worth of silver at the bottom of the ocean More than two hundred million dollars in gold To say nothing of fifty millions in copper, ten millions in-" "Say, hold on there, Ned Hold on Where do you get that stuff; as the boys say? Has something gone wrong with one of the adding machines, or is it just on account of the heat? What's the big idea, anyhow? How many millions did you say?" and Tom Swift, the talented young inventor, looked at Ned Newton, his financial manager, with a quizzical smile. "It's all right, Tom It's all right " declared Ned, and it needed but a glance to show that he was more serious than was his companion. "I'm not suffering from the heat, though the thermometer is getting close to ninety-five in the shade. And if you want to know where I get 'that stuff' read this " He tossed over to his chum, employer, and friend-for Tom Swift assumed all three relations toward Ned Newton-part of a Sunday newspaper.