"Well, Andy, I think you will soon have a chance to get
even with him."
"How, pop?"
"I can't tell you now, but I have a plan for making Tom sorry
he ever did anything to you, and I will also pay back some old
scores to Mr. Swift and Mr. Damon. I'll ruin their bank for them,
that's what I'll do."
"Ruin their bank, pop? How?"
"You wait and see. The Swift crowd will get off their high
horse soon, or I'm mistaken. My plans are nearly completed, but I
can't tell you about them. I'll ruin Mr. Swift, though, that's
what I'll do," and Mr. Foger shook his head determinedly.
Tom was soon at his home, and Mrs. Baggert, hearing the noise
of his machine, as it entered the front yard, came to the side
door.
"Where's my blacking?" she asked, as our hero dismounted and
untied the bundle of steel tubes he had purchased.
"I--I used it," he answered, laughing.
"Tom Swift! You don't mean to say you took my stove polish to
use in your battery, do you?"
"No, I used it to polish off Andy Foger and some of his
cronies," and the young inventor told, with much gusto, what had
happened. Mrs. Baggert could not help joining in the laugh, and
when Tom offered to ride back and purchase some more of the
polish for her, she said it did not matter, as she could wait
until the next day.
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