CHAPTER III
ANDY IS WHITEWASHED
The parlor where Mr. Swift had asked Andy to wait, adjoined thelibrary, and there was a connecting door, over which heavy curtainswere draped. Tom quickly pulled them aside and stepped into theparlor. The connecting door had been open slightly, and in a flashthe young inventor realized that it was perfectly possible for anyone in the next room to have heard most of the talk about the cityof gold.
A glance across the room showed Andy seated on the far side,apparently engaged in reading a book.
"Did you want to see me?" asked Tom sharply. His father and theothers in the library listened intently. Tom wondered what in theworld Andy could want of him, since the two were never in good tame,and Andy cherished a resentment even since our hero had rescued himfrom the African jungle.
"No, I didn't come to see you," answered Andy quickly, laying asidethe book and rising to face Tom.
"Then what--"
"I came to see your father," interrupted the red-haired bully. "Ihave a letter for him from my father; but I guess Mr. Swiftmisunderstood me when he let me in."
"Did you tell him you wanted to see me?" asked Tom suspiciously,thinking Andy had made a mistatement in order to have a longer timeto wait.
"No, I didn't, but I guess your father must have been thinking aboutsomething else, for he told me to come in here and sit down. I'vebeen waiting ever since, and just now Mrs. Baggert passed and sawme. She--"
"Yes, she said you were here," spoke Tom significantly. "Well, thenit's my father you want to see. I'll tell him."
Tom hurried back to the library.
"Dad," he said, "it's you that Andy wants to see. He has a letterfrom Mr. Foger for you."
"For me? What in the world can it be about? He never wrote to mebefore. I must have misunderstood Andy. But then it's no wonder formy head is so full of my new gyroscope plans. There is a certainspring I can't seem to get right--"
"Perhaps you'd better see what Andy wants," suggested Mr. Damongently. He looked at Tom. They were both thinking of the same thing.
"I will," replied Mr. Swift quickly, and he passed into the library.
"I wonder how much Andy heard?" asked Ned, in a low voice.
"Oh, I don't believe it could have been very much," answered Tom.
"No, I stopped you just in time," rejoined his chum, "or you mighthave blurted out the name of the city near where the buried goldis."
"Yes, we must guard our secret well, Tom," put in Mr. Damon.
"Well, Andy couldn't have known anything about the letter I got,"declared Tom, "and if he only heard snatches of our talk it won't dohim much good."
"The only trouble is he's been there long enough to have heard mostof it." suggested Ned. They could talk freely now, for in going intothe parlor Mr. Swift had tightly closed the door after him. Theycould just hear the murmur of his voice speaking to Andy.
"Well, even if he does guess about the city of gold, and itslocation, I don't believe he'll try to go there," remarked Tom,after a pause.
A moment later they heard Mr. Swift letting Andy out of the frontdoor, and then the inventor rejoined his son and the others. He heldan open letter in his hand.
"This is strange--very strange," he murmured.
"What is it?" asked Tom quickly.
"Why, Mr. Foger has written to me asking to be allowed to sell someof our patents and machines on commission."
"Sell them on commission!" exclaimed his son. "Why does amillionaire like Mr. Foger want to be selling goods on commission?It's only a trick!"
"No, it's not a trick," said Mr. Swift slowly. "He is in earnest.Tom, Mr. Foger has lost his millions. His fortune has been sweptaway by unfortunate investments, he tells me, and he would be gladof any work I could give him. That's why Andy brought the letterto-night. I just sent him back with an answer."
"What did you say, dad?"
"I said I'd think it over."
"Mr. Foger's millions gone," mused Tom.
"And Andy in there listening to what we said about the city ofgold," added Ned. "No wonder he was glad the door was open. He'd bethere in a minute, Tom, if he could, and so would Mr. Foger, if hethought he could get rich. He wouldn't have to sell goods oncommission if he could pick up a few of the golden images."
"That's right," agreed Tom, with an uneasy air. "I wish I knew justhow much Andy had heard. But perhaps it wasn't much."
The time was to come, however, when Tom was to learn to his sorrowthat Andy Foger had overheard a great deal.
"Bless my bankbook!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I never dreamed of such athing! Andy had every reason in the world for not wanting us to knowhe was in there! No wonder he kept quiet. I'll wager all the whilehe was as close to the open door as he could get, hoping to overhearabout the location of the place, so he could help his father getback 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 dangerof being overheard, they resumed their talk about the city of gold.It was decided that they would have to wait the arrival of anotherletter from Mr. Illingway before starting for Mexico.
"Well, as long as that much is settled, I think I'd better be goinghome," suggested Mr. Damon. "I know my wife will be anxious aboutme."
"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 himand his guest rapidly through the night, bringing Tom safely backhome.
It was several days after this, during which time Tom and Ned hadhad many talks about the proposed trip. They had figured on whatsort of a craft to use in the journey. Tom had about decided on asmall, but very powerful, dirigible balloon, that could be packed ina small compass and taken along.
"This city may be in some mountain valley, and a balloon will be theonly way we can get to it," he told Ned.
"That's right," agreed his chum. "By the way, you haven't heard anymore 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 thecolored man, "what are you going to do?"
"Whitewash de back fence, Massa Tom. It's in a mos' disrupted stateob disgrace. I'se jest natchally got t' whitewash it."
"All right, Rad, and when you get through come back here. I've gotanother job for you."
"A'right, Massa Tom, I shorely will," and Rad limped off with hispail of whitewash, and the long-handled brush.
It may have been fate that sent Andy Foger along the rear road alittle later, and past the place where Eradicate was making thefence less "disrupted." It may have been fate or Andy may have justbeen sneaking along to see if he could overhear anything of Tom'splans--a trick of which he was frequently guilty. At any rate, Andywalked past where Eradicate was whitewashing. The colored man sawthe red-haired lad coming and murmured:
"Dere's dat no 'count white trash! I jest wish Massa Tom was herenow. He'd jest natchally wallop Andy," and Eradicate moved hislonghandled brush up and down, as though he were coating the Fogerlad with the white stuff.
As it happened, Eradicate was putting some of the liquid on aparticularly rough spot in the fence, a spot low down, and thisnaturally 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 youmean by blocking the sidewalk that way? It's against the law, and Icould have you arrested for that."
"No, could yo' really now?" asked Eradicate drawlingly for he wasnot afraid of Andy.
"Yes, I could, and don't you give me any of your back-talk! Get thatbrush out of the way!" and Andy kicked the long handle.
The natural result followed. The other end of the brush, wet withwhitewash, described a curve through the air, coming toward the meanbully. And as the blow of Andy's foot jarred the brush loose, thenext moment it fell right on
Andy's head, the white liquid tricklingdown on his clothes, for Eradicate was not a miser when it came toputting on whitewash.
For a moment Andy could not speak. Then he burst out with:
"Hi! You did that on purpose! I'll have you in jail for that! Lookat my hat, it's ruined! Look at my clothes! They're ruined! Oh, I'llmake you pay for this!"
"Deed, it shore was a accident," said Eradicate, trying not to laugh."You done did it yo'se'f!"
"I did not! You did it on purpose; Tom Swift put you in on this!I'll--I'll--"
But Andy had to stop and splutter for some of the lime ran down offhis hat into his mouth, and he yelled:
"I'll--I'll--Ouch! Phew! Woof! Oof! Oh!"
Then, in his rage, he made a blind rush for Eradicate. Now thecolored man had no fear of Andy, but he did not want the pail ofwhitewash to upset, and the said pail was right in the path of theadvancing youth.
"Look out!" cried Eradicate.
"I'll make you look out!" spluttered Andy. "I'll thrash you forthis!"
Eradicate caught up his pail. He did not want to have the trouble ofmixing more of the liquid. Just as he lifted it Andy aimed a kickfor him. But he mis-calculated, and his foot struck the bottom ofthe pail and sent it flying from the hands of the colored man. Sentit flying right toward Andy himself, for Eradicate jumped back outof the way.
And the next moment a veritable deluge of whitewash was sprayed andsplashed and splattered over Andy, covering him with the snowyliquid from head to foot!