Tom was not very wet, and looking to see that the model, which was partly of wood, had suffered no damage, the lad gave his attention to his machine.

“Seems to be all right,” he murmured.  “I’ll just oil her up while I’m waiting.  This can’t last long; it’s raining too hard.”

He busied himself over the motor-cycle, adjusting a nut that had been rattled loose, and putting some oil on the bearings.  The rain kept up steadily, and when he had completed his attentions to his machine Tom looked out from under the protection of the shed.

“It certainly is coming down for keeps,” he murmured.  “This trip is a regular hoodoo so far.  Hope I have it better coming back.”

As he looked down the road he espied an automobile coming through the mist of rain.  It was an open car, and as he saw the three men in it huddled up under the insufficient protection of some blankets, Tom said: 

“They’d ought to come in here.  There’s lots of room.  Maybe they don’t see it.  I’ll call to them.”

The car was almost opposite the shed which was dose to the roadside.  Tom was about to call when one of the men in the auto looked up.  He saw the shelter and spoke to the chauffeur.  The latter was preparing to steer up into the shed when the two men on the rear seat caught sight of Tom.

“Why, that’s the same car that passed me a while ago,” said the young inventor half aloud.  “The one that contained those men whom I suspected might be after dad’s patent.  I hope they—­”

He did not finish his sentence, for at that instant the chauffeur quickly swung the machine around and headed it back into the road.  Clearly the men were not going to take advantage of the shelter of the shed.

“That’s mighty strange,” murmured Tom.  “They certainly saw me, and as soon as they did they turned away.  Can they be afraid of me?”

He went to the edge of the shelter and peered out.  The auto had disappeared down the road behind a veil of rain, and, shaking his head over the strange occurrence, Tom went back to where he had left his motor-cycle.

“Things are getting more and more muddled,” he said.  “I’m sure those were the same men, and yet—­”

He shrugged his shoulders.  The puzzle was getting beyond him.

CHAPTER XIV.

ATTACKED FROM BEHIND

Steadily the rain came down, the wind driving it under the shed until Tom was hard put to find a place where the drops would not reach him.  He withdrew into a far corner, taking his motor-cycle with him, and then, sitting on a block of wood, under the rough mangers where the horses were fed while the farmers attended church, the lad thought over the situation.  He could make little of it, and the more he tried the worse it seemed to become.  He looked out across the wet landscape.

“I wonder if this is ever going to stop?” he mused.  “It looks as if it was in for an all-day pour, yet we ought only to have a summer shower by rights.”