Tom Swift and His Motor-Cycle; Or, Fun and Adventures on the Road

by Victor Appleton

  CHAPTER X.

  OFF TO ALBANY

  "Did you catch him, Tom?" asked Mr. Swift eagerly when his sonreturned, but the inventor needed but a glance at the lad'sdespondent face to have his question answered without words, "Nevermind," he added, "there's not much harm done, fortunately."

  "Did he get anything? Any of your plans or models, dad?"

  "No; not as far as I can discover. My papers in the shop were notdisturbed, but it looked as if the turbine model had been moved. Theonly thing missing seems to be a sheet of unimportant calculations.Luckily I had my most valuable drawings in the safe in the house."

  "Yet that man seemed to be putting papers in his pocket, dad. Maybehe made copies of some of your drawings."

  "That's possible, Tom, and I admit it worries me. I can't imaginewho that man is, unless--"

  "Why, he's one of the three men I saw in Mansburg in therestaurant," said Tom eagerly. "Two of them tried to get informationhere, and now the third one comes. He got away in a motor-boat," andTom told how the fugitive escaped.

  Mr. Swift looked worried. It was not the first time attempts hadbeen made to steal his inventions, but on this occasion a desperateand well-organized plan appeared to be on foot.

  "What do you think they are up to, dad?" asked Tom.

  "I think they are trying to get hold of my turbine motor, Tom. Youknow I told you that the financiers were disappointed in the turbinemotor they bought of another inventor. It does not work. To get backthe money they spent in building an expensive plant they must have amotor that is successful. Hence their efforts to get control ofmine. I don't know whether I told you or not, but some time ago Irefused a very good offer for certain rights in my invention. I knewit was worth more. The offer came through Smeak & Katch, thelawyers, and when I refused it they seemed much disappointed. Ithink now that this same firm, and the financiers who have employedthem, are trying by all the means in their power to get possessionof my ideas, if not the invention and model itself."

  "What can you do, dad?"

  "Well, I must think. I certainly must take some means to protectmyself. I have had trouble before, but never any like this. I didnot think those men would be so unscrupulous."

  "Do you know their names?"

  "No, only from that telegram we found; the one which the firststranger dropped. One of them must be Anson Morse. Who the othersare I don't know. But now I must make some plans to foil thesesharpers. I may have to call on you for help, Tom."

  "And I'll be ready any time you call on me, dad," responded Tom,drawing himself up. "Can I do anything for you right away?"

  "No; I must think out a plan."

  "Then I am going to change my motor-cycle a bit. I'll put some moreimprovements on it."

  "And I will write some letters to my lawyers in Washington and asktheir advice." It took Tom the remainder of that day, and part ofthe next, to arrange the gasolene and spark control of his machineto his satisfaction. He had to make two small levers and someconnecting rods. This he did in his own particular machine shop,which was fitted up with a lathe and other apparatus. The lathe wasrun by power coming from a small engine, which was operated by anengineer, an elderly man to whom Mr. Swift had given employment formany years. He was Garret Jackson, and he kept so close to hisengine and boiler-room that he was seldom seen outside of it exceptwhen the day's work was done.

  One afternoon, a few days after the unsuccessful chase after thefugitive had taken place, Tom went out for a spin on hismotor-cycle. He found that the machine worked much better, and waseasier to control. He rode about fifteen miles away from home, andthen returned. As he entered the yard he saw, standing on the drive, aramshackle old wagon, drawn by a big mule, which seemed, at the timeTom observed him, to be asleep.

  "I'll wager that's Boomerang," said Tom aloud, and the mule openedits eyes, wiggled its ears and started forward.

  "Whoa dar, Boomerang!" exclaimed a voice, and Eradicate Sampsonhurried around the corner of the house. "Dat's jest lake yo'," wenton the colored man. "Movin' when yo' ain't wanted to." Then, as hecaught sight of Tom, he exclaimed, "Why, if it ain't young MistahSwift! Good lordy! But dat livery brake yo' done fixed on mah wagonsuttinly am fine. Ah kin go down de steepest hill widout ropin' dewheel."

  "Glad of it," replied Tom. "Did you come to do some work?"

  "Yais, sah, I done did. I found I had some time t' spah, an' thinksI dere might be some whitewashin' I could do. Yo' see, I lib only'bout two mile from heah."

  "Well, I guess you can do a few jobs," said Tom. "Wait here."

  He hunted up his father, and obtained permission to set Eradicate atwork cleaning out a chicken house and whitewashing it. The darky wassoon at work. A little later Tom passing saw him putting thewhitewash on thick. Eradicate stopped at the sight of Tom, and madesome curious motions.

  "What's the matter, Rad?" asked the young inventor.

  "Why, de whitewash done persist in runnin' down de bresh handle an'inter mah sleeve. I'm soakin' wet from it now, an' I has t' stopebery onct in a while 'case mah sleeve gits full."

  Tom saw what the trouble was. The white fluid did run down the longbrush handle in a small rivulet. Tom had once seen a little rubberdevice on a window-cleaning brush that worked well, and he decidedto try it for Eradicate.

  "Wait a minute," Tom advised. "I think I can stop that for you."

  The colored man was very willing to take a rest, but it did not lastlong, for Tom was soon back at the chicken coop. He had a smallrubber disk, with a hole in the center, the size of the brushhandle. Slipping the disk over the wood, he pushed it about half wayalong, and then, handing the brush back to the negro, told him totry it that way.

  "Did yo' done put a charm on mah bresh?" asked Eradicate somewhatdoubtfully.

  "Yes, a sort of hoodoo charm. Try it now."

  The darky dipped his brush in the pail of whitewash, and then beganto spread the disinfectant on the sides of the coop near the top.The surplus fluid started to run down the handle, but, meeting thepiece of rubber, came no farther, and dripped off on the ground. Itdid not run down the sleeve of Eradicate.

  "Well, I 'clar t' goodness! That suttinly am a mighty fine charm!"cried the colored man. "Yo' suah am a pert gen'men, all right. Now Ikin work widout stoppin' t' empty mah sleeve ob lime juice eberyminute. I'se suttinly obliged t' yo'."

  "You're welcome, I'm sure," replied Tom. "I think some day I'llinvent a machine for whitewashing, and then--"

  "Doan't do dat! Doan't do dat!" begged Eradicate earnestly. "Dis,an' makin' dirt disappear, am de only perfessions I got. Doan't go'ventin' no machine, Mistah Swift."

  "All right. I'll wait until you get rich."

  "Ha, ha! Den yo' gwine t' wait a pow'ful long time," chuckledEradicate as he went on with his whitewashing.

  Tom went into the house. He found his father busy with some papersat his desk.

  "Ah, it's you, is it, Tom?" asked the inventor, looking up. "I wasjust wishing you would come in."

  "What for, dad?"

  "Well, I have quite an important mission for you. I want you to goon a journey."

  "A journey? Where?"

  "To Albany. You see, I've been thinking over matters, and I havebeen in correspondence with my lawyers in regard to my turbinemotor. I must take measures to protect myself. You know I have notyet taken out a complete patent on the machine. I have not done sobecause I did not want to put my model on exhibition in Washington.I was afraid some of those unscrupulous men would take advantage ofme. Another point was that I had not perfected a certain device thatgoes on the motor. That objection is now removed, and I am ready tosend my model to Washington, and take out the complete patent."

  "But I thought you said you wanted me to go to Albany."

  "So I do. I will explain. I have just had a letter from Reid &Crawford, my Washington attorneys. Mr. Crawford, the junior memberof the firm, will be in Albany this week on some law business. Heagrees to receive my model and some papers there, and take them backto Washington with h
im. In this way they will be well protected. Yousee, I have to be on my guard, and if I send the model to Albany,instead of the national capital, I may throw the plotters off thetrack, for I feel that they are watching every move I make. As soonas you or I should start for Washington they would be on our trail.But you can go to Albany unsuspected. Mr. Crawford will wait for youthere. I want you to start day after to-morrow."

  "All right, dad. I can start now, if you say so."

  "No, there is no special need for haste. I have some matters toarrange. You might go to the station and inquire about trains to theState capital."

  "Am I going by train?"

  "Certainly. How else could you go?"

  There was a look of excitement in Tom's eyes. He had a sudden idea.

  "Dad," he exclaimed, "why couldn't I go on my motor-cycle?"

  "Your motor-cycle?"

  "Yes. I could easily make the trip on it in one day. The roads aregood, and I would enjoy it. I can carry the model back of me on thesaddle. It is not very large."

  "Well," said Mr. Swift slowly, for the idea was a new one to him, "Isuppose that part would be all right. But you have not had muchexperience riding a motor-cycle. Besides, you don't know the roads."

  "I can inquire. Will you let me go, dad?"

  Mr. Swift appeared to hesitate.

  "It will be fine!" went on Tom. "I would enjoy the trip, and there'sanother thing. If we want to keep this matter secret the best planwould be to let me go on my machine. If those men are on the watch,they will not think that I have the model. They will think I'm justgoing for a pleasure jaunt."

  "There's something in that," admitted Mr. Swift, and Tom, seeingthat his father was favorably inclined, renewed his arguments, untilthe inventor finally agreed.

  "It will be a great trip!" exclaimed Tom. "I'll go all over my machinenow, to see that it's in good shape. You get your papers and modelready, dad, and I'll take them to Albany for you. The motor-cycle willcome in handy."

  But had Tom only known the dangers ahead of him, and the risks hewas to run, he would not have whistled so light heartedly as he wentover every nut and bolt on his machine.

  Two days later, the valuable model, having been made into aconvenient package, and wrapped in water-proof paper, was fastenedback of the saddle on the motor-cycle. Tom carefully pinned in aninside pocket the papers which were to be handed to Mr. Crawford. Hewas to meet the lawyer at a hotel in Albany.

  "Now take care of yourself, Tom," cautioned his father as he badehim good-by. "Don't try to make speed, as there is no special rush.And, above all, don't lose anything."

  "I'll not, dad," and with a wave of his hand to Mr. Swift and thehousekeeper, who stood in the door to see him off, Tom jumped intothe saddle, started the machine, and then, after sufficient momentumhad been attained, he turned on the gasolene and set the sparklever. With rattles and bangs, which were quickly subdued by themuffler, the machine gathered speed. Tom was off for Albany.