CHAPTER III
TOM KNOCKS OUT ANDY
"Do you want me to come in and help you?" asked the young inventor,of Miss Nestor.
"Do you know anything about hiring a cook?" she inquired, with anarch smile.
"I'm afraid I don't," the lad was obliged to confess.
"Then I'm a little doubtful of your ability to help me. But I'm everso much obliged to you. I'll see if I can engage one. The cook whojust left went away because I asked her to make some appleturnovers. Some of the girls who are coming are very fond of them."
"So am I," spoke Tom, with a smile.
"Are you, indeed? Then, if the cook I hope to get now will makethem, I'll invite you over to have some, and--also meet my friends."
"I'd rather come when just you, and the turnovers and the cook arethere," declared Tom, boldly, and Mary, with a blush, made ready toleave the electric car.
"Thank you," she said, in a low voice.
"If I can't help you select a cook," went on Tom, "at least let mecall and take you home when you have engaged one."
"Oh, it will be too much trouble," protested Miss Nestor.
"Not at all. I have only to send a message, and get some piano wire,and then I'll call back here for you. I'll take you and the new cookback home flying."
"All right, but don't fly so fast. The cook may get frightened, andleave before she has a chance to make an apple turnover."
"I'll go slower. I'll be back in fifteen minutes," called Tom, as heswung the car out away from the curb, while Mary Nestor went intothe intelligence office.
Tom wrote and sent this message to Mr. Hostner Fenwick, ofPhiladelphia:
"Will come on to-morrow in my aeroplane, and aid you all I can. Willnot promise to make your electric airship fly, though. Father sendsregards."
"Just rush that, please," he said to the telegraph agent, and thelatter, after reading it over, remarked:
"It'll rush itself, I reckon, being all about airships, and thingslike that," and he laughed as Tom paid him.
Selecting several sizes of piano wire of great strength, to use asextra guy-braces on the Butterfly, Tom re-entered his electric car,and hastened back to the intelligence office, where he had left hisfriend. He saw her standing at the front door, and before he couldalight, and go to her, Miss Nestor came out to meet him.
"Oh, Tom!" she exclaimed, with a little tragic gesture, "what do youthink?"
"I don't know," he answered good-naturedly. "Does the new cookrefuse to come unless you do away with apple turnovers?"
"No, it isn't that. I have engaged a real treasure, I'm sure, but assoon as I mentioned that you would take us home in the electricautomobile, she flatly refused to come. She said walking was theonly way she would go. She hasn't been in this country long. But theworst of it is that a rich woman has just telephoned in for a cook,and if I don't get this one away, the rich lady may induce her tocome to her house, and I'll be without one! Oh, what shall I do?"and poor Mary looked quite distressed.
"Humph! So she's afraid of electric autos; eh?" mused Tom. "That'squeer. Leave it to me, Mary, and perhaps I can fix it. You want toget her away from here in a hurry; don't you?"
"Yes, because servants are so scarce, that they are engaged almostas soon as they register at the intelligence office. I know the oneI have hired is suspicious of me, since I have mentioned your car,and she'll surely go with Mrs. Duy Puyster when she comes. I'm sorryI spoke of the automobile."
"Well, don't worry. It's partly my fault, and perhaps I can makeamends. I'll talk to the new cook," decided the young inventor.
"Oh, Tom, I don't believe it will do any good. She won't come, andall my girl friends will arrive shortly." Miss Nestor was quitedistressed.
"Leave it to me," suggested the lad, with an assumed confidence hedid not feel. He left the car, and walked toward the office.Entering it, with Miss Nestor in his wake, he saw a pleasant-facedIrish girl, sitting on a bench, with a bundle beside her.
"And so you don't want to ride in an auto?" began Tom.
"No, an' it's no use of the likes of you askin' me, either,"answered the girl, but not impudently. "I am afeered of thim things,an' I won't work in a family that owns one."
"But we don't own one," said Mary.
The girl only sniffed.
"It is the very latest means of traveling," Tom went on, "and thereis absolutely no danger. I will drive slowly."
"No!" snapped the new cook.
Tom was rather at his wits' ends. At that moment the telephone rang,and Tom and Mary, listening, could hear the proprietress of theintelligence office talking to Mrs. Duy Puyster over the wire.
"We must get her away soon," whispered Mary, with a nod at the Irishgirl, "or we'll lose her."
Tom was thinking rapidly, but no plan seemed to come to him. Amoment later one of the assistants of the office led out from a rearroom another Irish girl,--who, it seems, had just engaged herself towork in the country.
"Good-by, Bridget," said this girl, to the one Mary Nestor hadhired. "I'm off now. The carriage has just come for me. I'm goin'away in style."
"Good luck, Sarah," wished Bridget.
Tom looked out of the window. A dilapidated farm wagon, drawn by tworusty-looking horses, just drawing up at the curb.
"There is your employer, Sarah," said the proprietress of theoffice. "You will have a nice ride to the country and I hope youwill like the place."
A typical country farmer alighted from the wagon, leaving a woman,evidently his wife, or the seat. He called out:
"I'll git th' servant-gal, 'Mandy, an' we'll drive right out hum.Then you won't have such hard work any more."
"An' so that's the style you was tellin' me of; eh, Sarah?" askedthe cook whom Miss Nestor had engaged. "That's queer style, Sarah."
Sarah was blushing from shame and mortification. Tom was quick toseize the advantage thus offered.
"Bridget, if YOU appreciate style," he said, "you will come in theautomobile. I have one of the very latest models, and it is verysafe. But perhaps you prefer a farm wagon."
"Indade an' I don't!" was the ready response. "I'll go wid you nowif only to show Sarah Malloy thot I have more style than her! Shewas boastin' of the fine place she had, an' th' illigant carriagethat was comin' t' take her to the counthry. If that's it I wantnone of it! I'll go wid you an' th' young gintleman. Style indade!"and, gathering up her bundle she followed Tom and Mary to thewaiting auto.
They entered it and started off, just as Mrs. Duy Puyster drove upin her elegantly appointed carriage, while Sarah, with tears ofmortification in her eyes, climbed up beside the farmer and hiswife.
"You saved the day for me, Tom," whispered Miss Nestor, as the younginventor increased the speed of his car. "It was only just in time."
"Don't forget the apple turnovers," he whispered back.
Once she had made the plunge, the new cook seemed to lose her fearsof the auto, and enjoyed the ride. In a short time she had beensafely delivered at Miss Nestor's home, while that young ladyrepeated her thanks to Tom, and renewed her invitation for him tocome and sample the apple turnovers, which Tom promised faithfullyto do, saying he would call on his return from Philadelphia.
Musing on the amusing feature of his trip, Tom was urging his autoalong at moderate speed, when, as he turned down a country road,leading to his home, he saw, coming toward him, a carriage, drawn bya slow-moving, white horse, and containing a solitary figure.
"Why, that looks like Andy Foger," spoke Tom, half aloud. "I wonderwhat he's doing out driving? His auto must be out of commission. Butthat's not strange, considering the way he abuses the machine. It'sin the repair shop half the time."
He slowed down still more, for he did not know but that Andy's horsemight be skittish. He need have no fears, however, for the animaldid not seem to have much more life than did Eradicate's mule,Boomerang.
As Tom came nearer the carriage, he was surprised to see Andydeliberately swing his horse across the road, blocking the highwayby means of
the carriage and steed.
"Well, Andy Foger, what does that mean?" cried Tom, indignantly, ashe brought his car to a sudden stop. "Why do you block the road?"
"Because I want to," snarled the bully, taking out a notebook andpencil, and pretending to make some notes about the property infront of which he had halted. "I'm in the real estate business now,"went on Andy, "and I'm getting descriptions of the property I'mgoing to sell. Guess I've got a right to stop in the road if I wantto!"
"But not to block it up," retorted Tom. "That's against the law.Pull over and let me pass!"
"Suppose I don't do it?"
"Then I'll make you!"
"Huh! I'd like to see you try it!" snapped Andy. "If you maketrouble for me, it will be the worse for you."
"If you pull to one side, so I can pass, there'll be no trouble,"said Tom, seeing that Andy wished to pick a quarrel.
"Well, I'm not going to pull aside until I finish putting down thisdescription," and the bully continued to write with tantalizingslowness.
"Look here!" exclaimed Tom Swift, with sudden energy. "I'm not goingto stand for this! Either you pull to one side and let me pass, or--"
"Well, what will you do?" demanded the bully.
"I'll shove you to one side, and you can take the consequences!"
"You won't dare to!"
"I won't, eh? Just you watch."
Tom threw forward the lever of his car. There was a hum of themotor, and the electric moved ahead. Andy had continued to write inthe book, but at this sound he glanced up.
"Don't you dare to bunk into me!" yelled Andy. "If you do I'll sueyou for damages!"
"Get out of the way, or I'll shove you off the road!" threatenedTom, calmly.
"I'll not go until I get ready."
"Oh, yes you will," responded our hero quietly. He sent his carahead slowly but surely. It was within a few feet of the carriagecontaining Andy. The bully had dropped his notebook, and was shakinghis fist at Tom.
As for the young inventor he had his plans made. He saw that thehorse was a quiet, sleepy one, that would not run away, no matterwhat happened, and Tom only intended to gently push the carriage toone side, and pass on.
The front of his auto came up against the other vehicle.
"Here, you stop!" cried Andy, savagely.
"It's too late now," answered Tom, grimly.
Andy reached for the horsewhip. Tom put on a little more power, andthe carriage began to slide across the road, but the old horse neveropened his eyes.
"Take that!" cried Andy, raising his whip, with the intention ofslashing Tom across the face, for the front of the auto was open.But the blow never fell, for, the next instant, the carriage gave alurch as one of the wheels slid against a stone, and, as Andy wasstanding up, and leaning forward, he was pitched head first out intothe road.
"By Jove! I hope I haven't hurt him!" gasped Tom, as he leaped fromhis auto, which he had brought to a stop.
The young inventor bent over the bully. There was a little cut onAndy's forehead, and his face was white. He had been mosteffectually knocked out entirely by his own meanness and fault, but,none the less, Tom was frightened. He raised up Andy's head on hisarm, and brushed back his hair. Andy was unconscious.