As Mr. Preston stood talking with Tom near the
gangplank, a clerical looking gentleman approached the circus man.
"I beg your pardon," he began in mild accents, "but could you tell
me where my stateroom is?" and he showed his ticket. "I'm not used
to traveling," he needlessly added for that fact was very evident.
Mr. Preston informed him how to get to his berth, and the gentleman
went on: "Are you going all the way to Buenos Ayres?"
"No, but my friend is," and the circus man nodded at Tom.
"Oh, I'm so glad!" the stranger exclaimed. "Then I shall have
someone of whom I can ask questions. I am quite lost when I travel."
"I'll help you all I can," volunteered Tom, "and I'll show you to
your stateroom now."
"Ah, thank you. Your name is--"
"Tom Swift," supplied the young inventor.
"Ah, yes, I believe I have read about your airships. I am the
Reverend Josiah Blinderpool. I am taking a little vacation. I trust
we shall become good friends."
"Humph, he's a regular infant, to be away from civilization," mused
Tom, when he had showed the clergyman to the proper stateroom.
"He'll get into trouble, he's so innocent.
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