shook his fist almost in the lad's face. "Why don't you tell me? Why don't you tell me?" he shouted.
"I will, if you give me a chance!" fairly exploded Tom. "If you can be cool for five minutes, and come inside and tell me what happened I'll be glad to answer any of your questions, Mr. Moker. I didn't shoot at you."
"Yes, you did! You tried to shoot a hole through me!"
"Tell me about it?" suggested Tom, as the excited man calmed down somewhat. "Are you hurt?"
"No, but it isn't your fault that I'm not. You tried hard enough to hurt me. Here I am, sitting at my table reading, and, all at once something goes through the side of the house, whizzes past my ear, makes my hair fairly stand up on end, and goes outside the other side of the house. What kind of bullets do you use, Tom Swift? that's what I want to know. They went through the side of my house, and never left a mark. I demand to know what kind they are."
"I'll tell you, if you'll only give me a chance," went on Tom wearily. "How do you know it was me shooting?"
"How do I know? Why, doesn't the end of
