"Oh, so you might get some of my money. Of course I ain't got none,"
the miser went on quickly, "but folks thinks I've got a lot, and I
have to be on the lookout all the while, or they'd murder me for
it."

"I wouldn't," declared the young inventor. "It was a mistake. Only
part of the spent charge passed near you. Why, if it had been a
powerful charge you would never have been able to come over here. I
set the main charge to go off inside the scarecrow, and it did so,
as you can see by looking at what's left of it," and he pointed to
the pile of clothes and rags.

"How do I know this?" insisted the miser with a leer at the two
lads.

"Because if the charge had gone off either before or after it passed
through the figure, it would not have caused such havoc of the cloth
and straw," explained Tom. "First the charge would have destroyed
the steel plate, which it passed through without even denting it.
Why, look here, I will now fire the rifle at short range, and set it
to destroy the plate. See what happens."

He quickly adjusted the weapon, and aimed it at the plate, which,
had again been set up on the range. This time Tom was careful to set
the gage so that even a small part of the spent charge would not go
outside the gallery.

The young inventor pressed the button, and instantly the heavy steel
plate was bent, torn and twisted as though a small sized cannon ball
had gone through it.

"That's what the rifle will do at short range," said Tom. "Don't
worry, Mr. Moker, you didn't have a narrow escape. You were in no
danger at all, though I apologize for the fright I caused you."

"Humph! That's an easy way to get out of it!" exclaimed the miser.
"I believe I could sue you for damages, anyhow. Look at my scorched
wall paper."

"Oh, I'll pay for that," said Tom quickly, for he did not wish to
have trouble with the unpleasant man. "Will ten dollars be enough?"
He knew that the whole room could be repapered for that, and he did
not believe the wall-covering was sufficiently damaged for such work
to be necessary.

"Well, if you'll make it twelve dollars, I won't say anything more
about it," agreed the miser craftily, "though it's worth thirteen
dollars, if it is a penny. Give me twelve dollars, Tom Swift, and I
won't prosecute you."

"All right, twelve dollars it shall be," responded the young
inventor, passing over the money, and glad to be rid of the
unpleasant character.

"And after this, just fire that