CHAPTER IV
TALK OF A NEW BANK
The three cronies were in a sorrowful plight. The black fluid dripped from them, and formed little puddles in the car. Andy had used his handkerchief to wipe some of the stuff from his face, but the linen was soon useless, for it quickly absorbed the blacking.
"There's a little brook over here," volunteered Tom. "You might wash in that. The stuff comes off easily. It isn't like ink," and he had to laugh, as he thought of the happening.
"Here! You quit that!" ordered Andy. "You've gone too far, Tom Swift!"
"Didn't I tell you it was an accident?" inquired the young inventor.
"It wasn't!" cried Sam. "You threw the bottle at us! I saw you!"
"It slipped from my pocket," declared the youth, and he described how the accident occurred. "I'll help you clean your car, Andy," he added.
33
