e mazes of some
intricate puzzle.

"Well, where have you been keeping yourself, old man?" asked Tom Swift,
after he had greeted his friend.

"I might ask the same of you," retorted Ned, with a smile. "I've been
trying to find you to give you some important information, and I made
up my mind, after what happened to-day, to write it and leave it for
you if I didn't see you."

"What happened to-day?" asked Tom, and there was a serious look on his
face.

"You are being spied upon--at least, that part of your works enclosed
in the new fence is," replied Ned.

"You don't mean it!" Cried Tom. "This accounts for some of it, then."

"For some of what?" asked Ned.

"For some of the actions of that Blakeson, He's been hanging around
here, I understand, asking too many questions about things that I'm
trying to keep secret--even from my best friends," and as Tom said this
Ned fancied there was a note of regret in his voice.

"Yes, you are keeping some things secret, Tom," said Ned, determined
"to take the bull by the horns," as it were.

"I'm sorry, but it has to be," went on Tom. "In a little while--"

"Oh, don't think that I'm at all anxious to know things!" broke in Ned.
"I was thinking of some one else, Tom--another of your friends."

"Do you mean Mary?"

Ned nodded.

"She feels rather keenly your lack of explanations," went on the young
bank clerk. "If you could only give her a hint--"

"I'm sorry, but it can't be done," and Tom spoke firmly. "But you
haven't told me all that happened. You say I am being spied upon."

"Yes," and Ned related what had taken place in the tree.

"Whew!" whistled Tom. "That's going some with a vengeance! I must have
that tree down in a jiffy. I didn't imagine there was a spot where the
yard could be overlooked. But I evidently skipped that tree.
Fortunately it's on land owned by a concern with which I have some
connection, and I can have it chopped down without any trouble. Much
obliged to you, Ned. I shan't forget this in a hurry. I'll go right
away and--"

Tom's further remark was interrupted by the hurried entrance of
Eradicate Sampson. The old man was smiling in pleased anticipation,
evidently, at the same time, trying hard not to give way to too much
emotion.

"I's done it, Massa Tom!" he cried exultingly.

"Done what?" asked the young inventor. "I hope you and Koku haven't had
another row."

"No, sah! I don't want nuffin t' do wif dat ornery, low-down white
trash