Tom leaped off his machine and approached the colored man.
Eradicate Sampson did odd jobs in the neighborhood of Shopton, and
more than once Tom had done him favors in repairing his lawn mower
or his wood-sawing machine. In turn Eradicate had given Tom a
valuable clue as to the hiding place of the model thieves.

"How'd the log get across the road, Rad?" asked Tom.

"I dunno, Mistah Swift. I see it when I come along wid mah mule,
Boomerang, an' I tried t' git it outer de way, but I couldn't.
Den I left Boomerang an' mah wagon at de foot ob de hill an' I
come up heah t' git a long pole t' pry de log outer de way. I
didn't t'ink nobody would come along, case dis road ain't much
trabeled."

"I took it for a short cut," said the lad. "Come on, let's take a
look at the log."

Leaving his machine at the top of the slope, the young inventor
accompanied the colored man 'down the hill. At the foot of it,
well hidden from sight of any one who might come riding down, was
a big log. It was all the way across the road.

"That never fell there," exclaimed Tom in some excitement. "That
never rolled off a load of logs, even if there had been one along,
which there wasn't. That log was put there!"

"Does yo' t'ink dat, Mistah Swift?" asked Eradicate, his eyes
getting big.