Page:Tom Swift and His Electric Runabout.djvu/42

32 "Mine's worse!" murmured Sam, glancing down at his light trousers, which were of the polka—dot pattern now.

"No, mine is," insisted Pete, whose white shirt was of the hue of a stove pipe.

Andy wiped some of the black stuff from his nose, whence it was dropping on the steering wheel.

"You just wait!" the bully cried to Tom. "I'll get even with you for this!"

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to do that," explained Tom, trying not to laugh, as he dismounted from his motor-cycle, ready to render what assistance he could.