But fate was against the plotters.  Two of them did manage to get away, but they were not really wanted.  The big fish were Peters and Boylan, and they were securely caught in the net of the law.  Peters was greatly surprised when he learned of Tom’s trap, and of the photo telephone.  He had no idea he had been incriminating himself when he talked over the wire.

“Well, it’s all over,” remarked Ned to Tom, one day, when the disabled auto and the airship had been brought home and repaired.  “The plotters are in prison for long terms, and Mr. Damon is found, together with his fortune.  The photo telephone did it, Tom.”

“Not all of it—­but a good bit,” admitted the young inventor, with a smile.

“What are you going to do next, Tom?”

“I hardly know.  I think—­”

Before Tom could finish, a voice was heard in the hall outside the library.

“Bless my overshoes!  Where’s Tom?  I want to thank him again for what he did for me,” and Mr. Damon, now fully recovered, came in.  “Bless my suspender button, but it’s good to be alive, Tom!” he cried.

“It certainly is,” agreed Tom.  “And the next time you go for a conference with such men as Peters, look out for airships.”

“I will, Tom, I will!” exclaimed Mr. Damon.  “Bless my watch chain, I will!”

And now, for a time, we will say good-bye to Tom Swift, leaving him to perfect his other inventions.