“Oh,” said Tom faintly, and he wondering what would be the best remark to make under the circumstances, when Miss Nestor created a diversion by looking at her watch and exclaiming: 

“Oh, girls, it’s lunch time!  We must go ashore.  Will you kindly put about, Mr. Swift—­I hope that is the proper term—­and—­land us—­is that right?” and she looked archly at Tom.

“That’s perfectly right,” he admitted with a laugh and a glance into the girl’s brown eyes.  “I’ll put you ashore at once,” and he headed for a small dock.

“And come yourself to take lunch with us, added Miss Haddon.

“I’m afraid I might be in the way,” stammered Tom.  “I—­I have a pretty good appetite, and—­”

“I suppose you think that girls on a picnic don’t take much lunch,” finished Miss Nestor.  “But I assure you that we have plenty, and that you will be very welcome,” she added warmly.

“Yes, and I’d like to have him explain over again how the engine works,” went on Miss Haddon.  “I am so interested.”

Tom helped the girls out, receiving their thanks as well as those of the children in the second boat.  But as he walked with the young ladies through the grove the young inventor registered a mental vow that he would steer clear of explaining again how a gasoline engine worked.

“Now come right over this way to our table,” invited Miss Nestor.  “I want you to meet papa and mamma.”

Tom followed her.  As he stepped from behind a clump of trees he saw, standing not far away, a figure that seemed strangely familiar.  A moment later the figure turned and Tom saw Andy Foger confronting him.  At the sight of our hero the bully turned red and walked quickly away, while Tom’s fingers touched the ring of keys in his pocket.

CHAPTER VII

A BRUSH WITH ANDY

So unexpected was his encounter with Andy that the young inventor hardly knew how to act, especially since he was a guest of the young ladies.  Tom did not want to do or say anything to embarrass them or make a scene, yet he did want to have a talk, and a very serious talk, with Andy Foger.

Miss Nestor must have noticed Tom’s sudden start at his glimpse of Andy, for she asked:  “Did you see some one you knew, Mr. Swift?”

“Yes,” replied Tom, “I did—­er—­that is—­” He paused in some confusion.

“Perhaps you’d like—–­that is prefer—­to go with them instead of taking lunch with girls who don’t know anything about engines?” she persisted.

“Oh, no indeed,” Tom hastened to assure her.  “He—­that is—­the person I saw wouldn’t care to have me lunch with him,” and the youth smiled grimly.

“Would you like to bring him over to our table?” inquired Miss Carson.  “We have plenty for him.”

“No, I think that would hardly do,” continued the lad, who tried not to smile at the picture of the red-haired and squint-eyed Andy Foger making one of a party with the girls.  The young ladies fortunately had not noticed the bully, who was out of view by this time.