Tom Swift in the City of Gold | Page 8

was glad the door was open. He'd be there
in a minute, Tom, if he could, and so would Mr. Foger, if he thought he
could get rich. He wouldn't have to sell goods on commission if he
could pick up a few of the golden images."
"That's right," agreed Tom, with an uneasy air. "I wish I knew just how
much Andy had heard. But perhaps it wasn't much."
The time was to come, however, when Tom was to learn to his sorrow
that Andy Foger had overheard a great deal.
"Bless my bankbook!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I never dreamed of
such a thing! Andy had every reason in the world for not wanting us to
know he was in there! No wonder he kept quiet. I'll wager all the while
he was as close to the open door as he could get, hoping to overhear
about the location of the place, so he could help his father get back his

lost fortune. Bless my hatband! It's a good thing Mrs. Baggert told us
he was there."
They all agreed with this, and then, as there was no further danger of
being overheard, they resumed their talk about the city of gold. It was
decided that they would have to wait the arrival of another letter from
Mr. Illingway before starting for Mexico.
"Well, as long as that much is settled, I think I'd better be going home,"
suggested Mr. Damon. "I know my wife will be anxious about me."
"I'll get out the sky racer and you'll be in Waterford in a jiffy," said
Tom, and he kept his word, for the speedy aeroplane carried him and
his guest rapidly through the night, bringing Tom safely back home.
It was several days after this, during which time Tom and Ned had had
many talks about the proposed trip. They had figured on what sort of a
craft to use in the journey. Tom had about decided on a small, but very
powerful, dirigible balloon, that could be packed in a small compass
and taken along.
"This city may be in some mountain valley, and a balloon will be the
only way we can get to it," he told Ned.
"That's right," agreed his chum. "By the way, you haven't heard any
more about Andy; have you?"
"Not a thing. Haven't even seen him. None of us have."
"There goes Rad, I wonder if he's seen him."
"No, or he'd have mentioned it to me. Hey, Rad," Tom called to the
colored man, "what are you going to do?"
"Whitewash de back fence, Massa Tom. It's in a mos' disrupted state ob
disgrace. I'se jest natchally got t' whitewash it."
"All right, Rad, and when you get through come back here. I've got
another job for you."

"A'right, Massa Tom, I shorely will," and Rad limped off with his pail
of whitewash, and the long-handled brush.
It may have been fate that sent Andy Foger along the rear road a little
later, and past the place where Eradicate was making the fence less
"disrupted." It may have been fate or Andy may have just been
sneaking along to see if he could overhear anything of Tom's plans--a
trick of which he was frequently guilty. At any rate, Andy walked, past
where Eradicate was whitewashing. The colored man saw the
red-haired lad coming and murmured:
"Dere's dat no 'count white trash! I jest wish Massa Tom was hear now.
He'd jest natchally wallop Andy," and Eradicate moved his
longhandled brush up and down, as though he were coating the Foger
lad with the white stuff.
As it happened, Eradicate was putting some of the liquid on a
particularly rough spot in the fence, a spot low down, and this naturally
made the handle of his brush stick out over the sidewalk, and at this
moment Andy Foger got there.
"Here, you black rascal!" the lad angrily exclaimed. "What do you
mean by blocking the sidewalk that way? It's against the law, and I
could have you arrested for that."
"No, could yo' really now?" asked Eradicate drawlingly for he was not
afraid of Andy.
"Yes, I could, and don't you give me any of your back-talk! Get that
brush out of the way!" and Andy kicked the long handle.
The natural result followed. The other end of the brush, wet with
whitewash, described a curve through the air, coming toward the mean
bully. And as the blow of Andy's foot jarred the brush loose, the next
moment it fell right on Andy's head, the white liquid trickling down on
his clothes, for Eradicate was not a miser when it came to putting on
whitewash.

For a moment Andy could not speak. Then he burst out with:
"Hi! You did that on purpose! I'll