The youth on the wheel, with a sudden spurt of speed, tried to cross
the highway. He did manage to do it, but by such a narrow margin
that in very terror Andy Foger shut off the power, jammed down the
brakes and steered to one side. So suddenly was he obliged to swerve
over that the ponderous machine skidded and went into the ditch at
the side of the road, where it brought up, tilting to one side.

Tom Swift, his face rather pale from his narrow escape, leaped from
his bicycle, and stood regarding the automobile. As for the
occupants of that machine, from Andy Foger, the owner, to the three
cronies who were riding with him, they all looked very much
astonished.

"Are we--is it damaged any, Andy?" asked Sam Snedecker.

"I hope not," growled Andy. "If my car's hurt it's Tom Swift's
fault!"

He leaped from his seat and made a hurried inspection of the
machine. He found nothing the matter, though it was more from good
luck than good management. Then Andy turned and looked savagely at
Tom Swift. The latter, standing his wheel up against the fence,
walked forward.

"What do you mean by getting in the way like that?" demanded Andy
with a scowl. "Don't you see that you nearly upset me?"

"Well, I like your nerve, Andy Foger!" cried Tom. "What do you mean
by nearly running me down? Why didn't you sound your horn? You
automobilists take too much for granted! You were going faster than