"You just wait!" the bully called to Tom. "I'll get even with
you for this!"
"It was an accident! I didn't mean to do that," explained Tom,
trying not to laugh, as he dismounted from his motor-cycle, ready
to render what assistance he could.
CHAPTER IV TALK OF A NEW BANK
The three cronies were in a sorrowful plight. The black fluid
dripped from them, and formed little puddles in the car. Andy had
used his handkerchief to wipe some of the stuff from his face,
but the linen was soon useless, for it quickly absorbed the
blacking.
"There's a little brook over here," volunteered Tom. "You might
wash in that. The stuff comes off easily. It isn't like ink," and
he had to laugh, as he thought of the happening.
"Here! You quit that!" ordered Andy. "You've gone too far, Tom
Swift!"
"Didn't I tell you it was an accident?" inquired the young
inventor.
"It wasn't!" cried Sam. "You threw the bottle at us! I saw
you!"
"It slipped from my pocket," declared the youth, and he
described how the accident occurred. "I'll help you clean your
car, Andy," he added.
"I don't want your help! If you come near me I'll--I'll punch
your nose!" cried Andy, now almost beside himself with rage.
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