Tom Swift and His Submarine Boat by Howard R. Garis (read after .TXT) 📖

in the tonneau were Sam Snedecker and Pete Bailey.

“Git out of the way,” added Sam, and he grinned maliciously at Tom.

The latter stepped back, well out of the path of the car, which was not moving very fast. Just in front of Tom was a puddle of muddy water. There was no necessity for Andy steering into it, but he saw his opportunity, and a moment later one of the big pneumatic tires had plunged into the dirty fluid, spattering it all over Tom, some even going as high as his face.

“Ha! ha!” laughed Andy. “Maybe you’ll get out of my way next time, Tom Swift.”

The young inventor was almost speechless from righteous anger. He wiped the mud from his face, glanced down at his clothes, which were all but ruined, and called out:

“Hold on there, Andy Foger! I want to see you!” for he thought of the time when Andy had shut him in the tank.

“Ta! ta!” shouted Pete Bailey.

“See you later,” added Sam.

“Better go home and take a bath, and then sail away in your submarine,” went on Andy. “I’ll bet it will sink.”

Before Tom could reply the auto had turned a corner. Disgusted and angry, he tried to sop up some of the muddy water with his handkerchief. While thus engaged he heard his name called, and looked up to see Ned Newton.

“What’s the matter? Fall down?” asked his chum.

“Andy Foger,” replied Tom.

“That’s enough,” retorted Ned. “I can guess the rest. We’ll have to tar and feather him some day, and ride him out of town on a rail. I’d kick him myself, only his father is a director in the bank where I work, and I’d be fired if I did. Can’t afford any such pleasure. But some day I’ll give Andy a good trouncing, and then resign before they can discharge me. But I’ll be looking for another job before I do that. Come on to my house, Tom, and I’ll help you clean up.”

Tom was a little more presentable when he left his chum’s residence, after spending the evening there, but he was still burning for revenge against Andy and his cronies. He had half a notion to go to Andy’s house and tell Mr. Foger how nearly serious the bully’s prank at the submarine had been, but he concluded that Mr. Foger could only uphold his son. “No, I’ll settle with him myself,” decided Tom.

Bidding Eradicate keep a watchful eye about the house, and leaving word for Mr. Damon to be sure to come to the coast if he again called at the Shopton house, Tom and Mr. Sharp prepared to make their return trip early the next morning.

The gas tank was filled and the Red Cloud arose in the air. Then, with the propellers moving at moderate speed, the nose of the craft was pointed toward the New Jersey coast.

A few miles out from Shopton, finding there was a contrary wind in the upper regions where they were traveling, Mr. Sharp descended several hundred feet. They were moving over a sparsely settled part of the country, and looking down, Tom saw, speeding along a highway, an automobile.

“I wonder who’s in it?” he remarked, taking down a telescope and peering over the window ledge of the cabin. The next moment he uttered a startled exclamation.

“Andy Foger, Sam Snedecker and Pete Bailey!” he cried. “Oh, I wish I had a bucket of water to empty on them.”

“I know a better way to get even with them than that,” said Mr. Sharp.

“How?” asked Tom eagerly.

“I’ll show you,” replied the balloonist. “It’s a trick I once played on a fellow who did me an injury. Here, you steer for a minute until I get the thing fixed, then I’ll take charge.”

Mr. Sharp went to the storeroom and came back with a long, stout rope and a small anchor of four prongs. It was carried to be used in emergencies, but so far had never been called into requisition. Fastening the grapple to the cable, the balloonist said:

“Now, Tom, they haven’t seen you. You stand in the stern and pay out the rope. I’ll steer the airship, and what I want you to do is to catch the anchor in the rear of their car. Then I’ll show you some fun.”

Tom followed instructions. Slowly he lowered the rope with the dangling grapple. The airship was also sent down, as the cable was not quite long enough to reach the earth from the height at which they were. The engine was run at slow speed, so that the noise would not attract the attention of the three cronies who were speeding along, all unconscious of the craft in the air over their heads. The Red Cloud was moving in the same direction as was the automobile.

The anchor was now close to the rear of Andy’s car. Suddenly it caught on the tonneau and Tom called that fact to Mr. Sharp.

“Fasten the rope at the cleat,” directed the balloonist.

Tom did so, and a moment later the aeronaut sent the airship up by turning more gas into the container. At the same time he reversed the engine and the Red Cloud began pulling the touring car backward, also lifting the rear wheels clear from the earth.

A startled cry from the occupants of the machine told Tom and his friend that Andy and his cronies were aware something was wrong. A moment later Andy, looking up, saw the airship hovering in the air above him. Then he saw the rope fast to his auto. The airship was not rising now, or the auto would have been turned over, but it was slowly pulling it backward, in spite of the fact that the motor of the car was still going.

“Here! You let go of me!” cried Andy. “I’ll have you arrested if you damage my car.”

“Come up here and cut the rope.” called Tom leaning over and looking down. He could enjoy the bully’s discomfiture. As for Sam and Pete, they were much frightened, and cowered down on the floor of the tonneau.

“Maybe you’ll shut me in the tank again and splash mud on me!” shouted Tom.

The rear wheels of the auto were lifted still higher from the ground, as Mr. Sharp turned on a little more gas. Andy was not proof against this.

“Oh! oh!” he cried. “Please let me down, Tom. I’m awful sorry for what I did! I’ll never do it again! Please, please let me down! Don’t You’ll tip me over!”

He had shut off his motor now, and was frantically clinging to the steering wheel.

“Do you admit that you’re a sneak and a coward?” asked Tom, “rubbing it in.”

“Yes, yes! Oh, please let me down!”

“Shall we?” asked Tom of Mr. Sharp.

“Yes,” replied the balloonist. “We can afford to lose the rope and anchor for the sake of turning the tables. Cut the cable.”

Tom saw what was intended. Using a little hatchet, he severed the rope with a single blow. With a crash that could be heard up in the air where the Red Cloud hovered, the rear wheels of the auto dropped to the ground. Then came two loud reports.

“Both tires busted!” commented Mr. Sharp dryly, and Tom, looking down, saw the trio of lads ruefully contemplating the collapsed rubber of the rear wheels. The tables had been effectually turned on Andy Foger. His auto was disabled, and the airship, with a graceful sweep, mounted higher and higher, continuing on its way to the coast.