Tom Swift And his Electric Rifle

"Have you anything special to do to-night, Ned?" asked Tom Swift, the well-known inventor, as he paused in front of his chum's window, in the Shopton National Bank. "No, nothing in particular," replied the bank clerk, as he stacked up some bundles of bills. "Why do you ask?" "I wanted you to come over to the house for a while." "Going to have a surprise party, or something like that?" "No, only I've got something I'd like to show you." "A new invention?" "Well, not exactly new. You've seen it before, but not since I've improved it. I'm speaking of my new electric rifle. I've got it ready to try, now, and I'd like to see what you think of it. There's a rifle range over at the house, and we can practice some shooting, if you haven't anything else to do." "I haven't, and I'll be glad to come. What are you doing in the bank, anyhow; putting away more of your wealth, Tom?" "Yes, I just made a little deposit. It's some money I got from the government for the patents on my sky racer, and I'm salting it down here until Dad and I can think of a better investment." "Good idea. Bring us all the money you can," and the bank clerk, who held a small amount of stock in the financial institution, laughed, his chum joining in with him. "Well, then. I'll expect you over this evening," went on the youthful inventor, as he turned to leave the bank. "Yes, I'll be there. Say, Tom, have you heard the latest about Andy Foger?" "No, I haven't heard much since he left town right after I beat him in the aeroplane race at Eagle Park."