Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat | Page 9

advanced. He passed Andy Foger, who had worked his way over near him.
"You got the boat," sneered the bully, "and I s'pose you think you got ahead of me."
"Keep quiet!" begged Sam.
"I won't!" exclaimed Andy. "He outbid me just out of spite, and I'll get even with him. You see if I don't!"
Tom looked Andy Foger straight in the eyes, but did not answer, and the red-haired youth turned aside, followed by his crony, and started toward his automobile.
"I congratulate you on your bargain," said Mr. Wood as Tom proceeded to make out a check. He gave little thought to the threat Andy Foger had made, but the time was coming when he was to remember it well.
CHAPTER III
A TIMELY WARNING
"Well, are you satisfied with your bargain, Tom?" asked Mr. Wood when the formalities about transferring the ownership of the motor-boat had been completed.
"Oh, yes, I calculated to pay just what I did."
"I'm glad you're satisfied, for Mr. Hastings told me to be sure the purchaser was satisfied. Here he comes now. I guess he wasn't at the auction."
An elderly gentleman was approaching Mr. Wood and Tom. Most of the throng was dispersing, but the young inventor noticed that Andy Foger and Sam Snedecker stood to one side, regarding him closely.
"So you got my boat," remarked the former owner of the craft. "I hope you will be able to fix it up."
"Oh, I think I shall," answered the new owner of the CARLOPA. "If I can't, father will help me."
"Yes, you have an advantage there. Are you going to keep the same name?" and Mr. Hastings seemed quite interested in what answer the lad would make.
"I think not," replied Tom. "It's a good name, but I want something that tells more what a fast boat it is, for I'm going to make some changes that will increase the speed."
"That's a good idea. Call it the Swift."
"Folks would say I was stuck up if I did that," retorted the youth quickly. "I think I shall call it the ARROW. That's a good, short name, and---"
"It's certainly speedy," interrupted Mr. Hastings. "Well now, since you're not going to use the name CARLOPA, would you mind if I took it for my new boat? I have a fancy for it."
"Not in the least," said Tom. "Don't you want the letters from each side of the bow to put on your new craft?"
"It's very kind of you to offer them, and, since you will have no need for them, I'll be glad to take them off."
"Come down to my boat," invited Tom, using the word "my" with a proper pride, "and I'll take off the brass letters. I have a screw driver in my motor-cycle tool bag."
As the former and present owners of the ARROW (which is the name by which I shall hereafter designate Tom's motor-boat) walked down toward the dock where it was moored the young inventor gave a startled cry.
"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Hastings.
"That man! See him at my motor-boat?" cried Tom. He pointed to the craft in the lake. A man was in the cockpit and seemed to be doing something to the forward bulkhead, which closed off the compartment holding the gasoline tank.
"Who is he?" asked Mr. Hastings, while Tom started on a run toward the boat.
"I don't know. Some man who bid on the boat at the auction, but who didn't go high enough," answered the lad. As he neared the craft the man sprang out, ran along the lakeshore for a short distance and then disappeared amid the bushes which bordered the estate of Mr. Hastings. Tom hurriedly entered the ARROW.
Did he do any damage?" asked Mr. Hastings.
I guess he didn't have time," responded Tom. "But he was tampering with the lock on the door of the forward compartment. What's in there?"
"Nothing but the gasoline tank. I keep the bulkhead sliding door locked on general principles. I can't imagine what the fellow would want to open it for. There's nothing of value in there. Perhaps he isn't right in his head. Was he a tramp?"
"No, he was well dressed but he seemed very nervous during the auction, as if he was disappointed not to have secured the boat. Yet what could he want in that compartment? Have you the key to the lock, Mr. Hastings?"
"Yes, it belongs to you now, Mr. Swift," and the former owner handed it to Tom, who quickly unlocked the compartment. He slid back the door and peered within, but all he saw was the big galvanized tank.
"Nothing in there he could want," commented the former owner of the craft.
"No," agreed Tom in a low voice. "I don't see what he wanted to open the door for." But the time was to come, and not far off, when Tom was to discover