"Monsieur has a fine airship there," he remarked to Tom.
"Oh, yes, it'll do." Tom did not want to encourage conversation.
"Doubtless from America it comes?"
The man spoke English but with an accent, and certain peculiarities.
"Maybe so," replied the young inventor.
"Is it permit to inspect the interior?"
"No, it isn't," came from Tom shortly. He had hurt his finger with the
file, and he was not in the best of humor.
"Ah, there are secrets then?" persisted the stranger.
"Yes!" said Tom shortly. "I wish you wouldn't bother me. I'm busy, can't
you see."
"Ah, does monsieur mean that I have poor eyesight?"
The question was snapped out so suddenly, and with such a menacing tone
that Tom glanced up quickly. He was surprised at the look in the man's
eyes.
"Just as you choose to take it," was the cool answer. "I don't know
anything about your eyes, but I know I've got work to do."
"Monsieur is insulting!" rasped out the seeming farmer. "He is not
polite. He is not a Frenchman."
"Now that'll do!" cried Tom, thoroughly aroused. "I don't want to be too
short with you, but I've really got to get this done. One side, if you
please," and having finished what he was doing, he started toward the
airship.
Whether in his haste Tom did not notice where he was going, or whether
the man deliberately got in his way I cannot say, but at any rate they
collided and the seeming farmer went spinning to one side, falling down.
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