"Out of my way, you!" he yelled at the man who had hold of him. "Who are you, anyhow? None of your masked tricks with me! Off with that!"
Before the man who had stepped between Tom and the guard could put up his hands to prevent it, Tom had torn off the black handkerchief.
There, with a startled frown on his beefy red face, stood—Basil Cunningham!
CHAPTER XXII
THE ESCAPE
"Cunningham!" gasped Tom Swift, taken aback as much by the boldness of the rascal in coming into his presence as by the force the Englishman had used in swinging him aside. "You—Cunningham!"
"Yes!" hissed the crook, but he appeared agitated because of having had his mask torn off. "You made a wrong move that time, Swift!"
"Wrong move! What do you mean?"
"I mean I came in here only to save this drunken fool from a beating he well deserves. That has nothing to do with it. If you had kept your hand to yourself and left my mask alone I would not have minded so much. But, now that you have found me out, it will go hard with you—both of you!" and he pointed an accusing finger at Ned.
"I'm not afraid of you!" blustered the financial manager. "Come on, Tom!" he yelled. "It's even now! And the other man's fuddled. We can handle Cunningham!"