"Have it your own way," resumed our hero. "Did you think it was a hob-goblin in a chariot of fire after you, Andy?"
"Huh! Never mind what I thought! I'll have you arrested for this!"
"Will you? Delighted, as the boys say. Hop in my airship and I'll take you right into town. And when I get you there I'll make a charge of malicious mischief against you, for breaking the propeller of the Butterfly and slashing her wings. I've mended her up, however, so she goes better than ever, and I can take you to the police station in jig time. Want to come, Andy?"
This was too much for the bully. He knew that Tom would have a clear case against him, and he did not dare answer. Instead he shuffled over to where his wheel lay, picked it up, and rode slowly off.
"Good riddance," murmured Tom. He looked about, and saw that he was near a house, in the rear of which was a good-sized barn. "Guess I'll ask if I can leave the Butterfly there," he murmured, and, ringing the doorbell, he was greeted by a man.
"I'll pay you if you'll let me store my machine in the barn a little while, until I go into the city, and return," spoke the lad.
