.

"What happened to Andy's auto?" the young inventor asked.

"He broke a wheel, going over a big stone on Berk's hill. He went to
tell some one in the repair shop to go after the car, and I came on
home. You've got no right to arrest me."

"I ought to, on general principles," commented Tom. "Well, skip out,
and don't you come around here again. I'm going to get a savage bull
dog, and the first one who comes sneaking around here after dark will
be sorry. Move along now!"

Tom and Ned released their holds of Sam, and the latter lost no time in
obeying the injunction to make himself scarce. He was soon lost to
sight in the darkness.

"Think he was up to some mischief?" asked Ned.

"I'm almost sure of it," replied Tom, "but I can't see anything wrong.
I guess we were too quick for him. I believe he, Andy and Pete Bailey
tried to put up some job on me."

"Maybe they wanted to damage your new battery or car," suggested Ned.

"Hardly that. The car hasn't been started yet, and as for the battery,
no one knows of it outside of you and my friends here. I'm keeping it
secret. Well, if I'm going to take you home I'd better get a move on.
Wait here and I'll run out Mr. Damon's car."

In a short time Tom was guiding the machine over the road to Shopton,
Ned on the seat beside him. The young assistant cashier lived about a
mile the other side of the village, and the two chums were soon at his
house. Asking his friend to come and see him when he had a chance. Ned
bid his chum good night, and the young inventor started back home.

He was driving slowly along, thinking more of his new invention than
anything else, even more than of the mysterious visit of Sam Snedecker,
when the lights on Mr. Damon's car flashed upon something big, black
and bulky on the road just ahead of him. Tom, brought suddenly out of
his fit of musing, jammed on the brakes, and steered to one side. Then
he saw that the object was a stalled auto. He had only time to note
this when a voice hailed him:

"Have you a tire pump you could lend us? Ours doesn't work, and we have
had a blowout."

There was something about the voice that was strangely familiar, and
Tom was wondering where he had heard it before, when into the glare of
the lamps on his machine stepped Mr. Foger--Andy's father!

"Why, Mr. Foger!" exclaimed Tom. "I didn't know it was you."

"Oh, it's Tom Swift," remarked the man, and he did not seem especially
pleased.

"Hey! What's that?"