stick to the old bank we can stand it even if some of our smaller customers desert us."
"That's the way to talk," went on the young inventor. "Let Foger start his bank. It won't hurt yours."
"What are you making now?" asked Ned, a little later, looking with interest at the machinery over which Tom was bending, and to which he was making adjustments.
"New electric automobile. I want to beat Andy Foger's car worse than I did on my motorcycle, and I also want to win a prize," and the lad proceeded to relate the incidents leading up to his construction of the storage battery.
Tom and Ned were in the shop until long past midnight, and then the bank employee, with a look at his watch exclaimed:
"Great Scott! I ought to be home."
"I'll run you over in Mr. Damon's car," proposed Tom. "He left it here the other day, while he and his wife went off on a trip, and he said I could use it whenever I wanted to."
"Good!" cried Ned.
The two lads came from Tom's particular workshop. As the young inventor closed the door he started suddenly, as he snapped shut the lock.
"What's the matter?" asked Ned quickly.
