CHAPTER VII
A BRUSH WITH ANDY
So unexpected was his encounter with Andy that the young inventorhardly knew how to act, especially since he was a guest of the youngladies. Tom did not want to do or say anything to embarrass them ormake a scene, yet he did want to have a talk, and a very serious talk,with Andy Foger.
Miss Nestor must have noticed Tom's sudden start at his glimpse ofAndy, for she asked: "Did you see some one you knew, Mr. Swift?"
"Yes," replied Tom, "I did--er--that is--" He paused in some confusion.
"Perhaps you'd like---that is prefer--to go with them instead of takinglunch with girls who don't know anything about engines?" she persisted.
"Oh, no indeed," Tom hastened to assure her. "He--that is--the personI saw wouldn't care to have me lunch with him," and the youth smiledgrimly.
"Would you like to bring him over to our table?" inquired Miss Carson."We have plenty for him."
"No, I think that would hardly do," continued the lad, who tried not tosmile at the picture of the red-haired and squint-eyed Andy Fogermaking one of a party with the girls. The young ladies fortunately hadnot noticed the bully, who was out of view by this time.
Tom was presented to Mr. and Mrs. Nestor, who told him how glad theywere to meet the young man who had been instrumental in saving theirdaughter from injury, if not death. Tom was a bit embarrassed, butbore the praise as well as he could, and he was very glad when adiversion, in the shape of lunch, occurred.
After a meal on tables under the trees in the grove Tom took the girlsand some of their friends out in his motor-boat again. They coveredseveral miles around the lake before returning to the picnic ground.
As Tom was starting toward home in his boat, wondering what had becomeof Andy and trying to think of a reason why the bully should attendanything as "tame" as a church picnic, the object of his thoughts camestrolling through the trees down to the shore of the lake. The momenthe saw Tom the red-haired lad started back, but the young inventor,leaping out of his boat, called out:
"Hold on there, Andy Foger, I want to see you!" and there was menace inTom's tone.
"But, I don't want to see you!" retorted the other sulkily. "I've gotno use for you."
"No more have I for you," was Tom's quick reply. "But I want to returnyou these keys. You dropped them in my boat the other night when youtried to set it afire. If I ever catch you--"
"My keys! Your boat! On fire!" gasped Andy, so plainly astonishedthat Tom knew his surprise was genuine.
"Yes, your keys. You were a little too quick for me or I'd havecaught you at it. The next time you pick a lock don't leave your keysbehind you," and he held out the jingling ring.
Andy Foger advanced slowly. He took the bunch of keys and looked atthe tag.
"They are mine," he said slowly, as if there was some doubt about it.
"Of course they are," declared Tom. "I found them where you droppedthem--in my boat."
"Do you mean over at the auction?"
"No, I mean down in my boathouse, where you sneaked in the other nightand tried to do some damage.
"The other night!" cried Andy. "I never was near your boathouse anynight and I never lost my keys there! I lost these the day of theauction, on Mr. Hastings' ground, and I've been looking for them eversince."
"Didn't you sneak in my boathouse the other night and try to do somemischief? Didn't you drop them then?"
"No, I didn't," retorted Andy earnestly. "I lost those keys at theauction, and I can prove it to you. Look, I advertised for them in theweekly Gazette."
The red-haired lad pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket and showedTom an advertisement offering a reward of two dollars for a bunch ofkeys on a ring, supposed to have been lost at the auction on Mr.Hastings' grounds in Lanton. The finder was to return them to AndyFoger.
"Does that look as if I lost the keys in your boathouse?" demanded thebully sneeringly. "I wouldn't have advertised them that way if I'd beentrying to keep my visit quiet. Besides, I can prove that I was out oftown several nights. I was over to an entertainment in Mansburg onenight and I didn't get home until two o'clock in the morning, becausemy machine broke down. Ask Ned Newton. He saw me at theentertainment."
Andy's manner was so earnest that Tom could not help believing him.Then there was the evidence of the advertisement. Clearly thesquint-eyed youth had not been the mysterious visitor to the boathouseand had not unlocked the forward compartment. But if it was not he,who could it have been and how did the keys get there? These werequestions which racked Tom's brain.
"You can ask Ned Newton," repeated Andy. "He'll prove that I couldn'thave been near your place, if you don't believe me."
"Oh, I believe you all right," answered Tom, for there could be nodoubting Andy's manner, even though he and the young inventor were noton good terms. "But how did your keys get in my boat?"
"I don't know, unless you found them, kept them and dropped themthere," was the insolent answer.
"You know better than that," exclaimed Tom.
"Well, I owe you a reward of two dollars for giving them back to me,"continued the bully patronizingly. "Here it is," and he hauled outsome bills.
"I don't want your money!" fired back Tom.
"But I'd like to know who it was that was in my boat."
"And I'd like to know who it was took my keys," and Andy stuffed themoney back in his pocket. Tom did not answer. He was puzzling over aqueer matter and he wanted to be alone and think. He turned aside fromthe red-haired lad and walked toward his motor-boat.
"I'll give you a surprise in a few days," Andy called after him, butTom did not turn his head nor did he inquire what the surprise might be.
Mr. Swift was somewhat puzzled when his son related the outcome of thekey incident. He agreed with Tom that some one might have found thering and kept it, and that the same person might have been the one whomTom had surprised in the boathouse.
"But it's idle to speculate on it," commented the inventor. "Andymight have induced some of his chums to act for him in harming yourboat, and the key advertisement might have been only a ruse."
"I hardly think so," answered his son, shaking his head. "It strikesme as being very curious, and I'm going to see if I can't get at thebottom of it."
But a week or more passed and Tom had no clew. In the meanwhile he wasworking away at his motor-boat, installing several improvements.
One of these was a better pump, which circulated the water around thecylinders, and another was a new system of lubrication under forcedfeed.
"This ought to give me a little more speed," reasoned Tom, who was notyet satisfied with his craft. "Guess I'll take it out for a spin."
He was alone in the ARROW, taking a long course up the lake when, as hepassed a wooded point that concealed from view a sort of bay, he heardthe puffing of another motor-boat.
"Maybe that's Mr. Hastings," thought Tom. "If I raced with him now, Ithink the ARROW could give a better account of herself."
The young inventor looked at the boat as it came into view. It neededbut a glance to show that it was not the CARLOPA. Then, as it camenearer, Tom saw a familiar figure in it--a red-haired, squint-eyed chap.
"Andy Foger!" exclaimed Tom. "He's got a motor-boat! This is thesurprise he spoke of."
The boat was rapidly approaching him, and he saw that it was painted avivid red. Then he could make out the name on the bow, RED STREAK.Andy was sending the craft toward him at a fast rate.
"You needn't think you're the only one on this lake who has a gasolineboat!" called Andy boastfully. "This is my new one and the fastestthing afloat around here. I can go all around you. Do you want torace?"
It was a "dare," and Tom never took such things when he couldreasonably enter a contest. He swung his boat around so as to shootalongside of Andy and answered:
"Yes, I'll race you. Where to?"
"Down opposite Kolb's dock and back to this point," was the answer."I'll give
you a start, as my engine has three cylinders. This is aracing boat."
"I don't need any start," declared Tom. "I'll race you on even terms.Go ahead!"
Both lads adjusted their timers to get more speed. The water began tocurl away from the sharp prows, the motors exploded faster and faster.The race was on between the ARROW and the RED STREAK.
Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat; Or, The Rivals of Lake Carlopa Page 7
