a lot of cattle in that bunch," mused the young inventor, "but I
shouldn't think they'd trot them so on a warm day like this. Maybe
they're stampeded. If they are I've got to look out." This idea caused
him some alarm.
He tried to peer through the dust-cloud, but could not. Nearer and
nearer it came. Tom kept on, taking care to get as far to the side of the
road as he could. Then from the midst of the enveloping mass came the
sound of a steady "chug-chug."
"It's a motor-cycle!" exclaimed Tom. "He must have his muffler wide
open, and that's kicking up as much dust as the wheels do. Whew! But
whoever's on it will look like a clay image at the end of the line!"
Now that he knew it was a fellow-cyclist who was raising such a
disturbance, Tom turned more toward the middle of the road. As yet he
had not had a sight of the rider, but the explosions of the motor were
louder. Suddenly, when the first advancing particles of dust reached
him, almost making him sneeze, Tom caught sight of the rider. He was
a man of middle age, and he was clinging to the handle-bars of the
machine. The motor was going at full speed.
Tom quickly turned to one side, to avoid the worst of the dust. The
motor-cyclist glanced at the youth, but this act nearly proved disastrous
for him. He took his eyes from the road ahead for just a moment, and
he did not see a large stone directly in his path. His front wheel hit it,
and the heavy machine, which he could not control very well, skidded
over toward the lad on the bicycle. The motor-cyclist bounced up in the
air from the saddle, and nearly lost his hold on the handle-bars.
"Look out!" cried Tom. "You'll smash into me!"
"I'm--I'm--try--ing--not--to!" were the words that were rattled out of the
middle-aged man.
Tom gave his wheel a desperate twist to get out of the way. The
motor-cyclist tried to do the same, but the machine he was on appeared
to want matters its own way. He came straight for Tom, and a
disastrous collision might have resulted had not another stone been in
the way. The front wheel hit this, and was swerved to one side. The
motor-cycle flashed past Tom, just grazing his wheel, and then was lost
to sight beyond in a cloud of dust that seemed to follow it like a halo.
"Why don't you learn to ride before you come out on the road!" cried
Tom somewhat angrily.
Like an echo from the dust-cloud came floating back these words:
"I'm--try--ing--to!" Then the sound of the explosions became fainter.
"Well, he's got lots to learn yet!" exclaimed Tom. "That's twice to-day
I've nearly been run down. I expect I'd better look out for the third time.
They say that's always fatal," and the lad leaped from his wheel.
"Wonder if he bent any of my spokes?" the young inventor continued
as he inspected his bicycle.
CHAPTER II.
TOM OVERHEARS SOMETHING
"Everything seems to be all right," Tom remarked, "but another inch or
so and he'd have crashed into me. I wonder who he was? I wish I had a
machine like that. I could make better time than I can on my bicycle.
Perhaps I'll get one some day. Well, I might as well ride on."
Tom was soon at Mansburg, and going to the post-office handed in the
letter for registry. Bearing in mind his father's words, he looked about
to see if there were any suspicious characters, but the only person he
noticed was a well-dressed man, with a black mustache, who seemed to
be intently studying the schedule of the arrival and departure of the
mails.
"Do you want the receipt for the registered, letter sent to you here or at
Shopton?" asked the clerk of Tom. "Come to think of it, though, it will
have to come here, and you can call for it. I'll have it returned to Mr.
Barton Swift, care of general delivery, and you can get it the next time
you are over," for the clerk knew Tom.
"That will do," answered our hero, and as he turned away from the
window he saw that the man who had been inquiring about the mails
was regarding him curiously. Tom thought nothing of it at the time, but
there came an occasion when he wished that he had taken more careful
note of the well-dressed individual. As the youth passed out of the
outer door he saw the man walk over to the registry window.
"He seems to have considerable mail business," thought Tom, and then
the matter passed from his mind as he
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