CHAPTER IV
MR. DAMON WILL GO ALONG
At first Tom was greatly frightened at the sight of Andy's paleface. He feared lest the bully might be seriously hurt. But when herealized that the fall from the carriage, which was a low one, wasnot hard, and that Andy had landed on his outstretched hands beforehis head came in contact with the earth, our hero was somewhatreassured.
"I wish I had some water, with which to bathe his head," Tommurmured, and he looked about in vain for some. But it was notneeded, for, a moment later, Andy opened his eyes, and, when he sawTom bending over, and holding him, the bully exclaimed:
"Here! You let me go! Don't you hit me again, Tom Swift, or I'llpunch you!"
"I didn't hit you," declared Tom, while Andy tore himself away, andstruggled to his feet.
"Yes, you did, too, hit me!"
"I did not! You tried to strike me with your whip, as I was shovingyour carriage out of the way, which I had a perfect right to do, asyou were blockading the highway. You lost your balance and fell. Itwas your own fault."
"Well, you'll suffer for it, just the same, snarled Andy, and then,putting his hand to his head, and bringing it away, with some dropsof blood on it, he cried out:"
"Oh, I'm hurt! I'm injured! Get a doctor, or maybe I'll bleed todeath!" He began blubbering, for Andy, like all bullies, was acoward.
"You're not hurt," asserted Tom, trying not to laugh. "It's only ascratch. Next time don't try to blockade the whole street, and youwon't get into trouble. Are you able to drive home; or shall I takeyou in my car?"
"I wouldn't ride in your car!" snapped the ugly lad. "You go on, andmind your business now, and I'll pay you back for this, some day. Icould have you arrested!"
"And so could I have you locked up for obstructing traffic. But I'llnot. Your rig isn't damaged, and you'd better drive home."
The old white horse had not moved, and was evidently glad of therest. A glance satisfied Tom that the carriage had not been damaged,and, getting into his car, while Andy was brushing the dust from hisclothes, our hero started the motor.
There was now room enough to pass around the obstructing carriage,and soon Tom was humming down the road, leaving a much discomfitedbully behind him.
"Tom Swift is too smart--thinking he can run everybody, andeverything, to suit himself," growled Andy, as he finished dustingoff his clothes, and wiping the blood from his face. As Tom hadsaid, the wound was but a scratch, though the bully's head ached,and he felt a little dizzy. "I wish I'd hit him with the horsewhip,"he went on, vindictively. "I'll get square with him some day."
Andy had said this many times, but he had never yet succeeded inpermanently getting the best of Tom. Pondering on some scheme ofrevenge the rich lad--for Mr. Foger, his father, was quitewealthy--drove on.
Meanwhile Tom, rather wishing the little encounter had not takenplace, but refusing to blame himself for what had occurred, wasspeeding toward home.
"Let's see," he murmured, as he drove along in his powerful car."I've got quite a lot to do if I make an early start forPhiladelphia, in my airship, to-morrow. I want to tighten thepropeller on the shaft a trifle, and give the engine a good try-out.Then, too, I think I'd better make the landing springs a littlestiffer. The last time I made a descent the frame was pretty welljarred up. Yes, if I make that air trip to-morrow I'll have to dosome tall hustling when I get home."
The electric runabout swung into the yard of the Swift house, andTom brought it to a stop opposite the side door. He looked about fora sight of his father, Mrs. Baggert or Garret Jackson. The onlyperson visible was Eradicate Sampson, working in the garden.
"Hello, Rad," called Tom. "Anybody home?"
"Yais, Massa Tom," answered the colored man. "Yo' dad an' anoddergen'mans hab jest gone in de house."
"Who's the other gentleman, Rad?" asked Tom, and the negro, glad ofan excuse to cease the weeding of the onion bed, came shufflingforward.
"It's de gen'mans what is allers saying his prayers," he answered.
"Saying his prayers?" repeated Tom.
"Yep. Yo' knows what I means, Massa Tom. He's allers askin' ablessin' on his shoes, or his rubbers, or his necktie."
"Oh, you mean Mr. Wakefield Damon."
"Yais, sah, dat's who I done means. Mr. Wakefull Lemon--dat's sho'him."
At that moment there sounded, within the house, the voices of Mr.Swift, and some one else in conversation.
"And so Tom has decided to make a run to the Quaker City in theBUTTERFLY, to-morrow," Mr. Swift was saying, "and he's going to seeif he can be of any service to this Mr. Fenwick."
"Bless my watch chain!" exclaimed the other voice. "You don't sayso! Why I know Mr. Fenwick very well--he and I used to go to schooltogether, but bless my multiplication tables--I never thought he'damount to anything! And so he's built an airship; and Tom is goingto help him with it? Why, bless my collar button, I've a good notionto go along and see what happens. Bless my very existence, but Ithink I will!"
"That's Mr. Damon all right," observed Tom, with a smile, as headvanced toward the dining-room, whence the voices proceeded.
"Dat's what I done tole you!" said Eradicate, and, with slow andlagging steps he went back to weed the onion bed.
"How are you, Mr. Damon," called our hero, as he mounted the stepsof the porch.
"Why, it's Tom--he's back!" exclaimed the eccentric man. "Why, blessmy shoe laces, Tom! how are you? I'm real glad to see you. Bless myeyeglasses, but I am! I just returned from a little western trip,and I thought I'd rUn over and see how you are. I came in my car--hadtwo blowouts on the way, too. Bless my spark plug, but the kindof tires one gets now-a-days are a disgrace! However, I'm here, andyour father has just told me about you going to Philadelphia in yourmonoplane, to help a fellow-inventor with his airship. It's realkind of you. Bless my topknot if it isn't! Do you know what I wasjust saying?"
"I heard you mention that you knew Mr. Fenwick," replied Tom, with asmile, as he shook hands with Mr. Damon.
"So I do, and, what's more, I'd like to see his airship. Will yourBUTTERFLY carry two passengers?"
"Easily, Mr. Damon."
"Then I'll tell you what I'm going to do. If you'll let me I'll takethat run to Philadelphia with you!"
"Glad to have you come along," responded Tom, heartily.
"Then I'll go, and, what's more, if Fenwick's ship will rise, I'llgo with you in that--bless my deflection rudder if I don't, Tom!"and puffing up his cheeks, as he exploded these words, Mr. Damonfairly raised himself on his tiptoes, and shook Tom's hand again.