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Appleton, Victor [pseud.]

"Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat, or, the Rivals of Lake Carlopa"

Damon," answered the lad, stepping out into the
road. "I knew it was you as soon as I saw you."
"Bless my liver, but that's very true! I suppose you heard my
unfortunate automobile puffing along. I declare I don't know what
ails it. I got it on the advice of my physician, who said I must
get out in the air, but, bless my gears, it's the auto who needs a
doctor more than I do! It's continually out of order. Something
is going to happen right away. I can tell by the way it's
behaving."
Mr. Damon had thrown out the clutch, but the engine was still
running, though in a jerky, uncertain fashion, which indicated to
the trained ear of the young inventor that something was wrong.
"Perhaps I can fix it for you as I did before," ventured Tom.
"Bless my eyebrows! Perhaps you can," cried the eccentric man
hopefully. "You always seem to turn up at the right moment. How
do you manage it?"
"I don't know. I remember the time you turned up just when I
wanted you to help me capture Happy Harry and his gang, and now,
by, a strange coincidence, I'm after them again."
"You don't say so! My good gracious! Bless my hatband! But
that's odd. There!" he ejaculated suddenly as the automobile
engine stopped with a choking sigh, "I knew something was going to
happen.


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