He was
about half way through it when some one called his name.
"Hello, Ned!" he answered, looking up to see a youth about his own
age. "Where did you blow in from?"
"Oh, I came over from Shopton this morning," replied Ned Newton,
taking a seat at the table with Tom. The two lads were chums, and in
their younger days had often gone fishing, swimming and hunting
together. Now Ned worked in the Shopton bank, and Tom was so busy
helping his father, so they did not see each other so often.
"On business or pleasure?" asked Tom, putting some more sugar in his
coffee.
"Business. I had to bring some papers over from our bank to the
First National here. But what about you?"
"Oh, I came on dad's account."
"Invented anything new?" asked Ned as he gave his order to the
waitress.
"No, nothing since the egg-beater I was telling you about. But I'm
working on some things."
"Why don't you invent an automobile or an airship?"
"Maybe I will some day, but, speaking of autos, did you see the one
Andy Foger has?"
"Yes; it's a beaut! Have you seen it?"
"Altogether at too close range. He nearly ran over me this morning,"
and the young inventor related the occurrence.
"Oh, Andy always was too fresh," commented Ned; "and since his
father let him get the touring car I suppose he'll be worse than
ever.
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