nd of
chemical in the fire, to make it blow up."
"Or else he summoned his airship by wireless, and had that balloonist,
Mr. Sharp, drop a bomb in the blaze," suggested another lad.
"But how could he do anything? Wasn't he tied fast to that tree?" asked
Cecil, the leader.
"You never know when you've got Tom Swift tied," declared Jack
Reynolds. "You think you've got him, and you haven't. He's too slick
for us. It's Andy's fault, for proposing to capture him."
"That's right! Blame it all on me," whined the squint-eyed bully. "You
was just as anxious as I was to tar and feather him."
"Well, we didn't do it," commented Pete Bailey, dryly. "I s'pose he's
loose now, laughin' at us. Gee, but that was an explosion though! It's
a wonder some of us weren't killed! I guess I've had enough of this
Deep Forest Throng business. No more for mine."
"Aw, don't be afraid," urged Cecil. "The next time we get him we'll be
on our guard."
"You'll never catch Tom Swift again," predicted Pete.
"I'll go back now to where he is, if you will," agreed Cecil, who was
older than the others.
"Not much!" cried Pete. "I've had enough."
This seemed to be the sentiment of all. Away they stumbled through the
woods, and, emerging on the road, scattered to their several homes, not
one but who suffered from slight burns, contusions, torn and muddy
clothes or injured feelings as the outcome of the "joke" on the young
inventor.
But our hero was not yet free from the bonds of his enemies. When they
scattered and ran, after the vivid blue light, and the dull explosion,
which, being unconfined, did no real damage, Tom was still fast to the
tree. As his eyes became accustomed to the semi-darkness that followed
the glare, he remarked:
"Well, I don't know that I'm much better off. I gave those fellows a
good scare, but I'm not loose. But I can work to better advantage now."
Once more he resumed the effort to free himself, but in spite of the
crude manner in which the knots had been made, the lad could not get
loose. The more he pulled and tugged the tighter they seemed to become.
"This is getting serious," Tom mused. "If I could only reach my knife I
could cut them, but it's in my pocket on the other side, and that
bond's fast. Guess I'll have to stay here all night. Maybe I'd better
call for help, but--"
His words, spoken half aloud, were suddenly interrupted by a crash in
the underbrush. Somebody was approaching. At first Tom tho
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