"
"Well, I guess I am!" cried the bank clerk with sparkling eyes.
"I wouldn't ask anything better. We've been in things like this
before, Tom, and we'll go in again--and win! I'll help you all I
can. Now, let's see if we can pick up any other clues. This is
like old times!" and Ned laughed, for he, like Tom, enjoyed a
good "fight," and one in which the odds were against them.
"We sure will have our hands full," declared the young
inventor. "Trying to solve the problem of carrying guns on an
aerial warship, and finding out who set this fire."
"Then you're not going to give up your aerial warship idea?"
"No, indeed!" Tom cried. "What made you think that?"
"Well, the way your father spoke--"
"Oh, dear old dad!" exclaimed Tom affectionately. "I don't want
to argue with him, but he's dead wrong!"
"Then you are going to make a go of it?"
"I sure am, Ned! All I have to solve is the recoil proposition,
and, as soon as we get straightened out from this fire, we'll
tackle that problem again--you and I. But I sure would like to
know who put this in my red shed," and Tom looked in a puzzled
manner at the empty fire bomb he still held.
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