needed, and
put them in the airship ready for the start back the next morning, Tom
concluded he would take a stroll into Shopton, to see if he could see
his friend, Ned Newton. It was early evening, and the close of a
beautiful day, a sharp shower in the morning having cooled the air.

Tom was greeted by a number of acquaintances as he strolled along, for,
since the episode of the bank robbery, when he had so unexpectedly
returned with the thieves and the cash, the lad was better known than
ever.

"I guess Ned must be home," thought our hero as he looked in vain for
his chum among the throng on the streets. "I've got time to take a
stroll down to his house."

Tom was about to cross the street when he was startled by the sound of
an automobile horn loudly blown just at his side. Then a voice called:

"Hey, there! Git out of the way if you don't want to be run over!"

He looked up, and saw a car careening along. At the wheel was the
red-haired bully, Andy Foger, and in the tonneau were Sam Snedecker and
Pete Bailey.

"Git out of the way," added Sam, and he grinned maliciously at Tom.

The latter stepped back, well out of the path of the car, which was not
moving very fast. Just in front of Tom was a puddle of muddy water.
There was no necessity for Andy steering into it, but he saw his
opportunity, and a moment later one of the big pneumatic tires had
plunged into the dirty fluid, spattering it all over Tom, some even
going as high as his face.

"Ha! ha!" laughed Andy. "Maybe you'll get out of my way next time, Tom
Swift."

The young inventor was almost speechless from righteous anger. He wiped
the mud from his face, glanced down at his clothes, which were all but
ruined, and called out:

"Hold on there, Andy Foger! I want to see you!" for he thought of the
time when Andy had shut him in the tank.

"Ta! ta!" shouted Pete Bailey.

"See you later," added Sam.

"Better go home and take a bath, and then sail away in your submarine,"
went on Andy. "I'll bet it will sink."

Before Tom could reply the auto had turned a corner. Disgusted and
angry, he tried to sop up some of the muddy water with his
handkerchief. While thus engaged he heard his name called, and looked
up to see Ned Newton.

"What's the matter? Fall down?" asked his chum.

"Andy Foger," replied Tom.

"That's enough," retorted Ned. "I can guess the rest. We'll have to
tar and feather him some day, and ride him out of town on a rail. I'd
ki