“That’s the stuff!” he cried as the welcome explosions sounded.  “I guess I’ve fooled Happy Harry!  I’ll get to Albany pretty nearly on time, anyhow.  But that tramp surely had me worried for a while.”

He rode into Pompville, and on inquiring in a plumbing shop managed to get a bit of copper wire that answered better than did the galvanized piece from the fence.  The readjustment was quickly made, and he was on his way again.  As it was getting close to noon he stopped near a little spring outside of Pompville and ate a sandwich, washing it down with the cold water.  Then he started for Centreford.

As he was coming into the city he heard an automobile behind him.  He steered to one side of the road to give the big car plenty of room to pass, but it did not come on as speedily as he thought it would.  He looked back and saw that it was going to stop near him.  Accordingly he shut off the power of his machine.

“Is this the road to Centreford?” asked one of the travelers in the auto.

“Straight ahead,” answered the lad.

At the sound of his voice one of the men in the big touring car leaned forward and whispered something to one on the front seat.  The second man nodded, and looked closely at Tom.  The youth, in turn, stared at the men.  He could not distinguish their faces, as they had on auto goggles.

“How many miles is it?” asked the man who had whispered, and at the sound of his voice Tom felt a vague sense that he had heard it before.

“Three,” answered the young inventor, and once more he saw the men whisper among themselves.

“Thanks,” spoke the driver of the car, and he threw in the gears.  As the big machine darted ahead the goggles which one of the men wore slipped off.  Tom had a glimpse of his face.

“Anson Morse!” he exclaimed.  “If that isn’t the man who was sneaking around dad’s motor shop he’s his twin brother!  I wonder if those aren’t the men who are after the patent model?  I must be on my guard!” and Tom, watching the car fade out of sight on the road ahead of him, slowly started his motor-cycle.  He was much puzzled and alarmed.

CHAPTER XIII.

CAUGHT IN A STORM

The more Tom tried to reason out the cause of the men’s actions, the more he dwelt upon his encounter with the tramp, and the harder he endeavored to seek a solution of the queer puzzle, the more complicated it seemed.  He rode on until he saw in a valley below him the buildings of the town of Centreford, and, with a view of them, a new idea came into his mind.

“I’ll go get a good dinner,” he decided, “and perhaps that will help me to think more clearly.  That’s what dad always does when he’s puzzling over an invention.”  He was soon seated in a restaurant, where he ate a substantial dinner.  “I’m just going to stop puzzling over this matter,” he decided.  “I’ll push an to Albany and tell the lawyer, Mr. Crawford.  Perhaps he can advise me.”