him an object of suspicion," declared the president in judicial tones. "As for Tom, we have, I regret to say, even better evidence against him."
"But what is it? What? Who gave you any clues to point to my son?"
"Do you really wish to know?"
"I certainly do," was the sharp reply. Mr. Swift, the police and several bank officials were now in the president's office. The latter pressed an electric bell, and, when a messenger answered, he said:
"Send young Foger here."
At the mention of this name, Mr. Swift started. He well knew the red-haired bully was an enemy of his son. Andy entered, walking rather proudly at the attention he attracted.
"This is Mr. Swift," said the president.
"Aw, I know him," blurted out Andy.
"You will please tell him what you told us," went on Mr. Pendergast.
"Well, I seen Tom Swift hanging around this bank with burglar tools in his possession last night, just before it was robbed," exclaimed the squint-eyed lad triumphantly.
"Hanging around the bank last night with burglar tools?" repeated Mr. Swift, in dazed tones.
"That's right," from Andy.
"How do you know they were burglar tools?"
