"It's no use. I can't think to-day. I'm dwelling too much on what
happened last night. I must clear my brain.

"I know what I'll do. I'll get in my motor-boat and take a run over to
Waterfield to see Mr. Damon. Maybe he's home by this time. Then I can
ask him what Mr. Foger wanted to see him about, if he did call."

It was a fine May morning, and Tom was soon in his boat, the Arrow,
gliding over Lake Carlopa, the waters of which sparkled in the sun. As
he speeded up his craft, the lad looked about, thinking he might catch
sight of Andy Foger, for the bully also owned a boat, called the Red
Streak and, more than once, in spite of the fact that Andy's craft was
the more powerful, Tom had beaten him in impromptu races. But there was
no sign of his rival this morning, and Tom kept on to Waterfield. He
found that Mr. Damon had not yet returned home.

"So far I've had my run for nothing," mused the youth. "Well, I might
as well spend the rest of the morning in the boat."

He swung his craft out into the lake, and headed back toward Mansburg,
intending to run up to the head of the body of water, which offered so
many attractions that beautiful morning.

As Tom passed a small dock he saw a girl just putting out in a rowboat.
The figure looked familiar and, having nothing special to do, the lad
steered over closer. His first view was confirmed, and he called out
cheerfully:

"Good morning, Miss Nestor. Going for a row?"

"Oh! Mr. Swift!" exclaimed the girl with a blush. "I didn't hear you
coming. You startled me."

"Yes, the engine runs quite silently since I fixed it," resumed Tom.
"But where are you going?"

"I was going for a row," answered the girl, "but I have just discovered
that one of the oar locks is broken, so I am not going for a row," and
she laughed, showing her white, even teeth.

"That's too bad!" remarked the lad. "I don't suppose," he added
doubtfully, "that I could induce you to accept a motor-boat as a
substitute for a rowing craft, could I?" and he looked quizzically at
her.

"Are you asking me that as a hypothetical question?" she inquired.

"Yes," said Tom, trying not to smile.

"Well, if you are asking for information, merely, I will say that I
could be induced to make such a change," and her face was nearly as
grave as that of the young inventor's.

"What inducement would have to be used?" he asked.

"Suppose you just ask me in plain English to come and have a ride?" she
suggested.