"Now, my son, be careful," advised his father. "You know the need of haste, but don't take unnecessary risks. You'd better go out the back way, as the crowd is easily excited."
Little more was said. Mr. Swift clasped his son's hand in a firm pressure, and the bank president nervously bade the lad good-by. Then, slipping out of the bank, by the rear entrance, the porter closing the door after them, Tom and Mr. Damon took their places in the electric machine.
"Just imagine you're racing for that three-thousand-dollar prize, offered by the Touring Club of America, Tom," observed Mr. Damon, as he deposited the valise at his feet.
"I don't have to do that," replied the youth. "I'm trying for a bigger prize than that. I want to save the bank, and defeat the schemes of the Fogers—father and son."
Tom turned on the power, and the machine rolled out on the main street. As it turned the corner, leaving the impatient crowd of depositors, now larger than ever, behind, Mr. Damon glanced over at the new bank, and, as he did so, he called to Tom:
"There are the Fogers now."
The young inventor looked, and saw Andy and his father on the steps of the new institution.
At the sight of the electric car, speeding along, Andy turned and spoke to his parent. What he said seemed to impress Mr. Foger, for he started, and looked more intently at Tom and Mr. Damon. Then, as Tom watched, he saw the two excitedly conversing, and a moment later Andy ran off in the direction in which Sam Snedecker and Pete Bailey lived.
"I wonder if he's up to any tricks?" thought Tom, as he turned on more power. "Well, if he is, I'll soon be where he can't reach me."
The young inventor did not dare send his car at full speed through the streets of the town, and it was not until several minutes had passed that they could go at more than the ordinary rate. But once the open country was reached Tom "opened her up full," and the song the motor sung was one of power. The vehicle quickly gathered headway and was soon fairly whizzing along.