"Yes. By jinks! I never expected to find you here, Tom. Over this way, men," he added calling aloud. "I've found him; it's Tom Swift."
There was the flicker of several lanterns amid the trees, and soon a number of men had joined Mr. Mason, and surrounded Tom. They were farmers living in the neighborhood.
"What in the name o' Tunket happened?" asked one. "Did you get hit by a meteor or a comet? Who tied you up; highwaymen?"
"Cut him loose first, and ask questions afterward," suggested Mr. Mason.
"Yes," added Tom, with a laugh, "I wish you would. I'm beginning to feel cramped."
With their knives, the farmers quickly cut the ropes, and some of them rubbed the arms of the lad to restore the circulation.
"What was it—highwaymen?" asked a man, unable to longer restrain his curiosity. "Did they rob you?"
"No, it wasn't highwaymen," replied the youth. "It was a trick of some boys I know," and to Tom's credit be it said that he did not mention their names. "They did it for a joke," he added.
"Boys' trick? Joke?" queried Mr. Mason. "Pretty queer sort of a joke, I think. They ought to be arrested."
"Oh, I fancy I gave them what was coming to them," went on the young inventor.