The shadow was waving its arms as though in signal to the oncoming motorist to stop, and when Tom sensed this he began to be uneasy and was about to press the lever that would give him full speed ahead.
"I'm not going to be fooled by any trick!" he murmured. "There have been too many hold-ups of late along this road. And if it isn't a hold-up it may be another attempt by Cunningham to annoy me. Look out there!" he yelled as the signaling figure and its accompanying shadow took the middle of the road. "Out of my way or I'll run you down!"
"Bless my accident policy, don't do that!" cried a voice.
For Tom the reaction was so great that his hand slipped from the electric speed lever, unconsciously pulling it toward the stop notch, and the runabout began to slow down.
"Mr. Damon!" cried Tom. "Is that you?"
"That's my name," said the voice of the man and he and his shadow both stepped to one side as the electric car rolled up and came to a stop, with the application of brakes, opposite him. "Thanks for picking me up. I don't know you, and I'm surprised that you could recognize me in the darkness, but——"
"Oh, you know me, too!" chuckled Tom, and then the man cried:
"Bless my opera glasses! It's Tom Swift!"
"Of course!" agreed the owner of that name.
"Well, how in the world did you hear of my accident and come to get me?" asked Mr. Wakefield Damon, for he it was. "Bless my carburetor, but this is remarkable!"