even with you yet, Tom Swift. In fact I've a good notion now to give
you a good thrashing for what you've done."

Before Tom was aware of the man's intention, Morse had stepped quickly
into the street, where the lad stood beside his wheel, and grasped him
by the shoulder. He gave Tom a vicious shake.

"Take your hand off me!" cried Tom, who was hampered by having to hold
up his heavy machine.

"I will when I've given you what I owe you!" retorted the scoundrel.
"I'm going to have satisfaction now if I never-"

At that instant there came from down the street the sound of a
rattling and bumping. Tom looked up quickly, and saw approaching a
rattletrap of a wagon. drawn by a big, loose-jointed mule, the large
ears of which were flapping to and fro. The animal was advancing
rapidly, in response to blows and words from the colored driver, and,
before the uplifted fist of Morse could fall on Tom's head, the outfit
was opposite them.

"Hold on dar, mistah! Hold on!" cried the colored man in the wagon.
"What are yo' doin' to mah friend, Mistah Swift?"

"None of your business!" snapped Morse. "You drive on and let me
manage this affair if you don't want trouble! Who are you anyhow?"

"Why doan't yo' know me?" asked the colored man, at whom Tom looked
gratefully. "I's Eradicate Sampson, an' dish yeah am mah mule,
Boomerang. Whoa, Boomerang! I reckon yo' an' I better take a hand in