reassured.

"I wish I had some water, with which to bathe his head," Tom
murmured, and he looked about in vain for some. But it was not
needed, for, a moment later, Andy opened his eyes, and, when he saw
Tom bending over, and holding him, the bully exclaimed:

"Here! You let me go! Don't you hit me again, Tom Swift, or I'll
punch you!"

"I didn't hit you," declared Tom, while Andy tore himself away, and
struggled to his feet.

"Yes, you did, too, hit me!"

"I did not! You tried to strike me with your whip, as I was shoving
your carriage out of the way, which I had a perfect right to do, as
you were blockading the highway. You lost your balance and fell. It
was 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 drops
of blood on it, he cried out:"

"Oh, I'm hurt! I'm injured! Get a doctor, or maybe I'll bleed to
death!" He began blubbering, for Andy, like all bullies, was a
coward.

"You're not hurt," asserted Tom, trying not to laugh. "It's only a
scratch. Next time don't try to blockade the whole street, and you