eloved possession. "Lemme tell yo' one thing, Massa Andy.
I'se an old colored man, an' I ain't much 'count mebby. But ef yo'
dare lay one finger on mah mule Boomerang, only jest one finger,
mind you', why I'll--I'll jest natchally drown yo'--all in
whitewash, dat's what I'll do!"

Eradicate drew himself up proudly, and boldly faced Andy. The bully
shrank back. He knew better than to arouse the colored man further.

"You'll suffer for this," predicted the bully. "For not going to
forget it. Tom Swift put you up to this, and I'll take it out of him
the next time I see him. He's to blame."

"Now looky heah, honey!" said Eradicate quick. "Doan't yo' all git
no sich notion laik dat in yo' head. Massa Tom didn't tell me to do
noth'in an I ain't. He ain't eben 'round yeh. An' annudder thing.
Yo'se t' blame to' this yo' own se'f. Ef yo' hadn't gone fo' is kick
de bucket it nebber would 'a happened. It's yo' own fault, honey,
an' doan't yo' forgit dat! No, yo' better go home an' git some dry
clothes on."

It was good advice, for Andy was soaking wet. He glared angrily at
Eradicate, and then swung off down the road, the whitewash dripping
from has garments at every step.

"Land a massy! But he suah did use up all mah lime." complained
Eradicate, as he picked up the overturned pail. "I's got t' make
mo'. But I doan't mind," he added cheerfully, and then, as he saw
the woe-begone figure of Andy shuffling along, he laughed heartily,
fitted the brush on the handle and went to tell Tom and Ned what had
happened, and make more whitewash.

"Hum! Served him right," commented the young inventor.

"I suppose he'll try to play some mean trick on you now," commented
Ned. "He'll think you had some hand in what Rad did."

"Let him," answered Tom. "If he tries any of his games I'll be ready
for him."

"Maybe we'll soon be able to start for the city of gold," suggested
Ned.

"I'm afraid not in some time," was his chum's reply. "It's going to
take quite a while to get ready, and then we've got to wait to hear
from Mr. Illingway. I wonder if it's true that Mr. Foger has lost
his fortune; or was that only a trick?"

"Oh, it's true enough," answered Ned. "I heard some of the bank
officials talking about it the other day." Ned was employed in one
of the Shopton banks, an institution in which Tom and his father
owned considerable stock. "He hasn't hardly any money left, and he
may leave town and go out west, I heard."

"He can't go an