"Did he hit me with the hatchet?" he asked Mr. Jackson.
"I couldn't tell," was the engineer's reply, "it all happened so quickly. In another instant I'd have bowled him over, instead of him landing on you, but I just missed him. He either used the hatchet, or some blunt instrument."
"Well, don't talk about it now," urged the doctor. "I want Tom to get quiet and go to sleep. He'll be much better in the morning, but I must forbid any aeroplane flights." And he shook his finger at Tom in warning. "You'll have to lie quiet for several days," he added.
"All right," agreed the young inventor weakly, and then he dozed off, for the physician had given him a quieting medicine.
"Haven't you any idea who it was?" asked Dr. Gladby of Mr. Jackson, as he prepared to leave.
"Not the slightest. It was no one Tom or I had ever seen before. But whoever it was, he intended to destroy the Humming-Bird, that was evident!"
"The scoundrel! I'm glad you foiled him in time; but it's too bad about Tom. However, we'll soon have him all right again."
"I knows who done it!" broke in Eradicate, who was a sort of privileged character about the Swift home.
"Who?" asked Mr. Jackson.
"It were dat Andy Foger. Leastways, he send dat man heah t' make mincemeat oh de Hummin'-Bird. I's positib 'bout dat, so I am!" And Eradicate grinned triumphantly.