“But at the same time I’m going to be on my guard,” mused Tom.  “And now for another trial.”

Tom Swift worked hard during the following week, and so closely did he stick to his home and workshop that he did not even pay a visit to Mr. Damon, so he did not learn in what condition that gentleman’s affairs were.  Tom even denied himself to his chum Ned, so taken up was the young inventor with working out the telephone problem, until Ned fairly forced himself into the shop one day, and insisted on Tom coming out.

“You need some fresh air!” exclaimed Ned.  “Come on out in the motor boat again.  She’s all fixed now; isn’t she?”

“Yes,” answered Tom, “but—­”

“Oh, ‘but me no buts,’ as Mr. Shakespeare would say.  Come on, Tom.  It will do you good.  I want a spin myself.”

“All right, I will go for a little while,” agreed Tom.  “I am feeling a bit rusty, and my head seems filled with cobwebs.”

“Can’t get the old thing to come out properly; eh?”

“No.  I guess dad was more than half right when he said it couldn’t be done.  But I haven’t given up.  Maybe I’ll think of some new plan if I take a little run.  Come along.”

They went down to the boat house, and soon were out on the lake in the Kilo.

“She runs better since you had her fixed,” remarked Ned.

“Yes, they did a good job.”

“Did you sue Peters?”

“Didn’t have to.  He sent the money,” and Tom told of his interview with Mr. Boylan.  This was news to Ned, as was also the financial trouble of Mr. Damon.

“Well,” said the young banker, “that bears out what I had heard of Peters—­that he was a get-rich-quick chap, and a good one to steer clear of.”

“Speaking of steering clear,” laughed Tom, “there he is now, in his big boat,” and he pointed to a red blur coming up the lake.  “I’ll give him a wide enough berth this time.”

But though Mr. Peters, in his powerful motor boat, passed close to Tom’s more modest craft, the big man did not glance toward our hero and his chum.  Nor did Mr. Boylan, who was with his friend, look over.

“I guess they’ve had enough of you,” chuckled Ned.

“Probably he wishes he hadn’t paid me that money,” said Tom.  “Very likely he thought, after he handed it over, that I’d be only too willing to let him manage one of my inventions.  But he has another guess coming.”

Tom and Ned rode on for some distance, thoroughly enjoying the spin on the lake that fine Summer day.  They stopped for lunch at a picnic resort, and coming back in the cool of the evening they found themselves in the midst of a little flotilla of pleasure craft, all decorated with Japanese lanterns.

“Better slow down a bit,” Ned advised Tom, for many of the pleasure craft were canoes and light row boats.  “Our wash may upset some of them.”

“Guess you’re right, old man,” agreed Tom, as he closed the gasoline throttle, to reduce speed.  Hardly had he done so than there broke in upon the merry shouts and singing of the pleasure-seekers the staccato exhaust of a powerful motor boat, coming directly behind Tom’s craft.