CHAPTER III.

IN A SMASH-UP


Though the young inventor listened intently, in an endeavor to hear
the conversation of the men at the table behind him, all he could
catch was an indistinct murmur. The strangers appeared to have
heeded the caution of one of their number and were speaking in low
tones.

Tom and Ned finished their meal, and started to leave the
restaurant. As Mr. Swift's son passed the table where the men sat
they looked up quickly at him. Two of them gave Tom but a passing
glance, but one--he whom the young inventor had noticed in the post-
office--stared long and intently.

"I think he will know me the next time he sees me," thought Tom, and
he boldly returned the glance of the stranger.

The bolts were ready when the inventor's son called at the machine
shop a second time, and making a package of them Tom fastened it to
the saddle of his bicycle. He started for home at a fast pace, and
was just turning from a cross road into the main highway when he saw
ahead of him a woman driving a light wagon. As the sun flashed on
Tom's shining wheel the horse gave a sudden leap, swerved to one
side, and then bolted down the dusty stretch, the woman screaming at
the top of her voice.

"A runaway!" cried Tom; "and partly my fault, too!"