again, and it's queer about Andy Foger."

Father and son returned to the machine shop, while Mr.
Berg puffed away in his auto. A little later, Tom having
occasion to go to a building near the boundary line of the
cottage property which his father had hired for the season,
saw, through the hedge that bordered it, an automobile
standing in the road. A second glance showed him that it was
Mr. Berg's machine. Something had gone wrong with it, and
the agent had alighted to make an adjustment.

The young inventor was close to the man, though the latter
was unaware of his presence.

"Hang it all!" Tom heard Mr. Berg exclaim to himself. "I
wonder what they can be up to? They won't enter the
Government contests, and they won't say why. I believe
they're up to some game, and I've got to find out what it
is. I wonder if I couldn't use this Foger chap?"

"He seems to have it in for this Tom Swift," Mr. Berg went
on, still talking to himself, though not so low but that Tom
could hear him. "I think I'll try it. I'll get Andy Foger to
sneak around and find out what the game is. He'll do it, I
know."

By this time the auto was in working order again, and the
agent took his seat and started off.

"So that's how matters lie, eh?" thought Tom. "Well, Mr.