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

by Victor Appleton

  CHAPTER XIV.

  ATTACKED FROM BEHIND

  Steadily the rain came down, the wind driving it under the sheduntil Tom was hard put to find a place where the drops would notreach him. He withdrew into a far corner, taking his motor-cycle withhim, and then, sitting on a block of wood, under the rough mangerswhere the horses were fed while the farmers attended church, the ladthought over the situation. He could make little of it, and the morehe tried the worse it seemed to become. He looked out across the wetlandscape.

  "I wonder if this is ever going to stop?" he mused. "It looks as ifit was in for an all-day pour, yet we ought only to have a summershower by rights."

  "But then I guess what I think about it won't influence the weatherman a bit. I might as well make myself comfortable, for I can't doanything. Let's see. If I get to Fordham by six o'clock I ought tobe able to make Albany by nine, as it's only forty miles. I'll getsupper in Fordham, and push on. That is, I will if the rain stops."

  That was the most necessary matter to have happen first, and Tomarising from his seat strolled over to the front of the shed to lookout.

  "I believe it is getting lighter in the west," he told himself."Yes, the clouds are lifting. It's going to clear. It's only asummer shower, after all."

  But just as he said that there came a sudden squall of wind andrain, fiercer than any which had preceded. Tom was driven back tohis seat on the log. It was quite chilly now, and he noticed thatnear where he sat there was a big opening in the rear of the shed,where a couple of boards were off.

  "This must be a draughty place in winter," he observed. "If I couldfind a drier spot I'd sit there, but this seems to be the best," andhe remained there, musing on many things. Suddenly in the midst ofhis thoughts he imagined he heard the sound of an automobileapproaching. "I wonder if those men are coming back here?" heexclaimed. "If they are--"

  The youth again arose, and went to the front of the shed. He couldsee nothing, and came back to escape the rain. There was no doubtbut that the shower would soon be over, and looking at his watch,Tom began to calculate when he might arrive in Albany.

  He was busy trying to figure out the best plan to pursue, and washardly conscious of his surroundings. Seated on the log, with hisback to the opening in the shed, the young inventor could not see afigure stealthily creeping up through the wet grass. Nor could hesee an automobile, which had come to a stop back of the horseshelter--an automobile containing two rain-soaked men, who wereanxiously watching the one stealing through the grass.

  Tom put his watch back into his pocket and looked out into thestorm. It was almost over. The sun was trying to shine through theclouds, and only a few drops were falling. The youth stretched witha yawn, for he was tired of sitting still. At the moment when heraised his arms to relieve his muscles something was thrust throughthe opening behind him. It was a long club, and an instant later itdescended on the lad's head. He went down in a heap, limp andmotionless.

  Through the opening leaped a man. He bent over Tom, looked anxiouslyat him, and then, stepping to the place where the boards were offthe shed, he motioned to the men in the automobile.

  They hurried from the machine, and were soon beside their companion.

  "I knocked him out, all right," observed the man who had reachedthrough and dealt Tom the blow with the club.

  "Knocked him out! I should say you did, Featherton!" exclaimed onewho appeared better dressed than the others. "Have you killed him?"

  "No; but I wish you wouldn't mention my name, Mr. Appleson. I--Idon't like--"

  "Nonsense, Featherton. No one can hear us. But I'm afraid you'vedone for the chap. I didn't want him harmed."

  "Oh, I guess Featherton knows how to do it, Appleson," commented thethird man. "He's had experience that way, eh, Featherton?"

  "Yes, Mr. Morse; but if you please I wish you wouldn't mention--"

  "All right, Featherton, I know what you mean," rejoined the manaddressed as Morse. "Now let's see if we have drawn a blank or not.I think he has with him the very thing we want."

  "Doesn't seem to be about his person," observed Appleson, as hecarefully felt about the clothing of the unfortunate Tom.

  "Very likely not. It's too bulky. But there's his motor-cycle overthere. It looks as if what we wanted was on the back of the saddle.Jove, Featherton, but I think he's coming to!"

  Tom stirred uneasily and moved his arms, while a moan came frombetween his parted lips.

  "I've got some stuff that will fix him!" exclaimed the man addressedas Featherton, and who had been operating the automobile. He tooksomething from his pocket and leaned over Tom. In a moment the younginventor was still again.

  "Quick now, see if it's there," directed Morse, and Appleson hurriedover to the machine.

  "Here it is!" he called. "I'll take it to our car, and we can getaway."

  "Are you going to leave him here like this?" asked Morse.

  "Yes; why not?"

  "Because some one might have seen him come in here, and alsoremember that we, too, came in this direction."

  "What would you do?"

  "Take him down the road a way and leave him. We can find some shednear a farmhouse where he and his machine will be out of sight untilwe get far enough away. Besides, I don't like to leave him so farfrom help, unconscious as he is."

  "Oh, you're getting chicken-hearted," said Appleson with a sneer."However, have your way about it. I wonder what has become of JakeBurke? He was to meet us in Centreford, but he did not show up."

  "Oh, I shouldn't be surprised if he had trouble in that tramp rig heinsisted on adopting. I told him he was running a risk, but he saidhe had masqueraded as a tramp before."

  "So he has. He's pretty good at it. Now, Simpson, if you will--"

  "Not Simpson! I thought you agreed to call me Featherton,"interrupted the chauffeur, turning to Morse and Appleson.

  "Oh, so we did. I forgot that this lad met us one day, and heard mecall you Simpson," admitted Morse. "Well, Featherton it shall be.But we haven't much time. It's stopped raining, and the roads willsoon be well traveled. We must get away, and if we are to take thelad and his machine to some secluded place, we'd better be at it. Nouse waiting for Burke. He can look out after himself. Anyhow, wehave the model now, and there's no use in him hanging around Swift'sshop, as he intended to do, waiting for a chance to sneak in afterit. Appleson, if you and Simpson--I mean Featherton--will carryyoung Swift, I'll shove his wheel along to the auto, and we can putit and him in."

  The two men, first looking through the hole in the shed to make surethey were not observed, went out, carrying Tom, who was no lightload. Morse followed them, pushing the motor-cycle, and carryingunder one arm the bundle containing the valuable model, which he haddetached.

  "I think this is the time we get ahead of Mr. Swift," murmuredMorse, pulling his black mustache, when he and his companions hadreached the car in the field. "We have just what we want now."

  "Yes, but we had hard enough work getting it," observed Appleson."Only by luck we saw this lad come in here, or we would have had tochase all over for him, and maybe then we would have missed him.Hurry, Simpson--I mean Featherton. It's getting late, and we've gotlots to do."

  The chauffeur sprang to his seat, Appleson taking his place besidehim. The motor-cycle was tied on behind the big touring car, andwith the unconscious form of Tom in the tonneau, beside Morse, whostroked his mustache nervously, the auto started off. The storm hadpassed, and the sun was shining brightly, but Tom could not see it.