voice that called a moment later proved that this was not so.
"Is any one here?" shouted a man. "Any one hurt? What was that fire and explosion?"
"I'm here," replied Tom. "I'm not hurt exactly, but I'm tied to a tree. I'll be much obliged if you'll loosen me."
"Who are you?"
"Tom Swift. Is that you, Mr. Mason?"
"Yes. By jinks! I never expected to find you here, Tom. Over this way, men," he added, calling aloud. "I've found him; it's Tom Swift."
There was the flicker of several lanterns amid the trees, and soon a number of men had joined Mr. Mason, and surrounded Tom. They were farmers living in the neighborhood.
"What in the name o' Tunket happened?" asked one. "Did you get hit by a meteor or a comet? Who tied you up; highwaymen?"
"Cut him loose first, and ask questions afterward," suggested Mr. Mason.
"Yes," added Tom, with a laugh, "I wish you would. I'm beginning to feel cramped."
With their knives, the farmers quickly cut the ropes, and some of them rubbed the arms of the lad to restore the circulation.
"What was it—highwaymen?" asked a man,
