"What right have you to accuse my son?" burst out the aged inventor.
"Why have you any more cause to suspect him than any other lad in
town? Why do you fix on him, and Mr. Damon? I demand to know."

"Mr. Damon's eccentric actions for a few days past, and his well-known
oddity of character make him an object of suspicion," declared the
president in judicial tones. "As for Tom, we have, I regret to say,
even better evidence against him."

"But what is it? What? Who gave you any clues to point to my son?"

"Do you really wish to know?"

"I certainly do," was the sharp reply. Mr. Swift, the police and
several bank officials were now in the president's office. The latter
pressed an electric bell, and, when a messenger answered, he said

"Send young Foger here."

At the mention of this name, Mr. Swift started. He well knew the red-
haired bully was an enemy of his son. Andy entered, walking rather
proudly at the attention he attracted.

"This is Mr. Swift," said the president.

"Aw, I know him," blurted out Andy.

"You will please tell him what you told us," went on Mr. Pendergast.

"Well, I seen Tom Swift hanging around this bank with burglar tools in