Once this decision was made Tom felt better.

“That’s just what I needed,” he thought; “some one to shift the responsibility upon.  I’ll let the lawyers do the worrying.  That’s what they’re paid for.  Now for Albany, and I hope I don’t have to stop, except for supper, until I get there.  I’ve got to do some night riding, but I’ve got a powerful lamp, and the roads from now on are good.”

Tom was soon on his way again.  The highway leading to Albany was a hard, macadam one, and he fairly flew along the level stretches.

“This is making good time,” he thought.  “I won’t be so very late, after all; that is, if nothing delays me.”

The young inventor looked up into the sky.  The sun, which had been shining brightly all day, was now hidden behind a mass of hazy clouds, for which the rider was duly grateful, as it was becoming quite warm.

“It’s more like summer than I thought,” said Tom to himself.  “I shouldn’t be surprised if we got rain to-morrow.”

Another look at the sky confirmed him in this belief, and he had not gone on many miles farther when his opinion was suddenly changed.  This was brought about by a dull rumble in the west, and Tom noticed that a bank of low-lying clouds had formed, the black, inky masses of vapor being whirled upward as if by some powerful blast.

“Guess my storm is going to arrive ahead of time,” he said.  “I’d better look for shelter.”

With a suddenness that characterizes summer showers, the whole sky became overcast.  The thunder increased, and the flashes of lightning became more frequent and dazzling.  A wind sprang up and blew clouds of dust in Tom’s face.

“It certainly is going to be a thunder storm,” he admitted.  “I’m bound to be delayed now, for the roads will be mucky.  Well, there’s no help for it.  If I get to Albany before midnight I’ll he doing well.”

A few drops of rain splashed on his hands, and as he looked up to note the state of the sky others fell in his face.  They were big drops, and where they splashed on the road they formed little globules of mud.

“I’ll head for that big tree,” thought Tom “It will give me some shelter.  I’ll wait there—­” His words were interrupted by a deafening crash of thunder which followed close after a blinding flash.  “No tree for mine!” murmured Tom.  “I forgot that they’re dangerous in a storm.  I wonder where I can stay?”

He turned on all the power possible and sprinted ahead.  Around a curve in the road he went, leaning over to preserve his balance, and just as the rain came pelting down in a torrent he saw just ahead of him a white church on the lonely country road.  To one side was a long shed, where the farmers were in the habit of leaving their teams when they came to service.

“Just the thing!” cried the boy; “and just in time!”

He turned his motor-cycle into the yard surrounding the church, and a moment later had come to a stop beneath the shed.  It was broad and long, furnishing a good protection against the storm, which had now burst in all its fury.