ly raised his
head, and inquired in a frightened voice:

"Is it--is it gone?"

"Is what gone?" asked Tom, grimly.

At the sound of his voice, Andy looked up. "Was that you, Tom Swift?" he
demanded. "Did you knock me off my wheel?"

"My monoplane and I together did," was the reply; "or, rather, we
didn't. It was the nervous reaction caused by your fright, and
the knowledge that you had done wrong, that made you jump over the
handlebars. That's the scientific explanation."

"You--you did it!" stammered Andy, getting to his feet. He wasn't hurt
much, Tom thought.

"Have it your own way," resumed our hero. "Did you think it was a
hob-goblin in a chariot of fire after you, Andy?"

"Huh! Never mind what I thought! I'll have you arrested for this!"

"Will you? Delighted, as the boys say. Hop in my airship and I'll take
you right into town. And when I get you there I'll make a charge of
malicious mischief against you, for breaking the propeller of the
Butterfly and slashing her wings. I've mended her up, however, so she
goes better than ever, and I can take you to the police station in jig
time. Want to come, Andy?"

This was too much for the bully. He knew that Tom would have a clear
case against him, and he did not dare answer. Instead he shuffled over
to where his wheel lay, picked it up, and rode slowly off.

"Good riddance," murmured Tom. He looked about, and saw that he was near
a house, in the rear of which was a good-sized barn. "Guess I'll ask
if I can leave the Butterfly there," he murmured, and, ringing the
doorbell, he was greeted by a man.

"I'll pay you if you'll let me store my machine in the barn a little
while, until I go into the city, and return," spoke the lad.

"Indeed, you're welcome to leave it there without pay," was the answer.
"I'm interested in airships, and, I'll consider it a favor if you'll let
me look yours over while it's here."

Tom readily agreed, and a few minutes later he had caught a trolley
going into the city. He was soon in one of the largest jewelry stores of
Chester.

"I'd like to get an expert opinion as to whether or not those stones are
diamonds," spoke Tom, to the polite clerk who came up to wait on him,
and our hero handed over the two gems which Mr. Jenks had given him.
"I'm willing to pay for the appraisement, of course," the young inventor
added, as he saw the clerk looking rather doubtfully at him, for Tom had
on a rough suit, which he always donned when he fl