"I wonder if that was Happy Harry?" he mused.
There was a crackling in the bushes and Tom, wondering what he might do to protect himself, looked toward the place whence the noise proceeded. A moment later a hunter stepped into view. The man carried a gun and wore a canvas suit, a belt about his waist being filled with cartridges.
"Hello!" he exclaimed pleasantly, Then, seeing a look of alarm on the lad's face, he went on:
"I hope I didn't shoot in your direction, young man; did I?"
"No--no, sir," replied the youthful inventor, who had hardly recovered his composure. "I heard your gun, and I imagined--"
"Did you think you had been shot? You must have a very vivid imagination, for I fired in the air."
"No, I didn't exactly think that," replied Tom, "but I just had an encounter with an ugly tramp, and I feared he might be using me for a target."
"Is that so. I hadn't noticed any tramps around here, and I've been in these woods nearly all day. Did he harm you?"
"No, not me, but my motor-cycle," and the lad explained.
"Pshaw! That's too bad!" exclaimed the hunter. "I wish I could supply you with a bit of wire, but I haven't any. I'm just walking about, trying my new gun."