“That’s just what I mean! They sneaked in here while you were dozing, took the plans, and jumped out of the window with them. On the way this paper fell out. It’s the only clue we have. Stay here, dad. I’m going to have a look.” And Tom jumped from the library window and ran down the path after the unknown thief.
CHAPTER FOUR
ANXIOUS DAYS
Peering on all sides as he dashed along the gravel walk, hoping to catch a glimpse of the unknown intruder in the garden or shrubbery, Tom sprinted on at top speed. Now and then he paused to listen, but no sound came to him to tell of some one in retreat before him. There was only Silence.
“Mighty queer,” mused the youth. “Whoever it was, he couldn’t have had more than a minute start of me—no, not even half a minute—and yet they’ve disappeared as completely as though the ground had opened and let them down; and the worst of it is, that they’ve taken my plans with them!”
He turned about and retraced his steps, making a careful search. He saw no one, until, turning a corner, a little later, he met Eradicate Sampson.
“You haven’t seen any strangers around here just now, have you, Rad?” asked Tom anxiously.
“No, indeedy, I hasn’t, Massa Tom. What fo’ kind ob a stranger was him?”
“That’s just what I don’t know. Rad. But some one sneaked into the library just now and took some of my plans while my father dozed off. I jumped out after him as soon as I could, but he has disappeared.”
“Maybe it were th’ man who done stowed hisself away on yo’ airship, de time yo’ all went after de diamonds,” suggested the colored man.
“No, it couldn’t have been him. If it was anybody, it was Andy Foger, or some of his crowd. You didn’t see Andy, did you, Rad?”
“No, indeedy; but if I do, I suah will turn mah mule, Boomerang, loose on him, an’ he won’t take any mo’ plans—not right off, Massa Tom.”
“No, I guess not. Well, I must get back to dad, or he’ll worry. Keep your eyes open, Rad, and if you see Andy Foger, or any one else, around here, let me know. Just sing out for all you’re worth.”
“Shall I call out, Massa Tom, ef I sees dat blessin’ man?”
“You mean Mr. Damon?”
“Dat’s de one. De gen’man what’s allers a-blessin’ ob hisself or his shoelaces, or suffin laik dat. Shall I sing out ef I sees him?”
“Well, no; not exactly, Rad. Just show Mr. Damon up to the house. I’d be glad to see him again, though I don’t fancy he’ll call. He’s off on a little trip, and won’t be back for a week. But watch out, Rad.” And with that Tom turned toward the house, shaking his head over the puzzle of the missing plans.
“Did you find any one?” asked his father eagerly as the young inventor entered the library.
“No,” was the gloomy answer. “There wasn’t a sign of any one.”
Tom went over to the window and looked about for clues. There was none that he could see, and a further examination of the ground under the window disclosed nothing. There was gravel beneath the casement, and this was not the best medium for retaining footprints. Nor were the gravel walks any better.
“Not a sign of any one,” murmured Tom. “Are you sure you didn’t hear any noise, dad, when you dozed off?”
“Not a sound, Tom. In fact, it’s rather unusual for me to go to sleep like that, but I suppose it’s because of my illness. But I couldn’t have been asleep long—not more than two minutes.”
“That’s what I think. Yet in that time someone, who must have been on the watch, managed to get in here and take my plans for the new sky racer. I don’t see how they got the wire screen open from the outside, though. It fastens with a strong hook.”
“And was the screen open?” asked Mr. Swift
“Yes, it was unhooked. Either they pushed a wire in through the mesh, caught it under the hook, and pulled it up from the outside, or else the screen was opened from the inside.”
“I don’t believe they could get inside to open the screen without some of us seeing them,” spoke the older inventor. “More likely, Tom, it wasn’t hooked, and they found it an easy matter to simply pull it open.”
“That’s possible. I’ll ask Mrs. Baggert if the screen was unhooked.”
But the housekeeper could not be certain on that point, and so that part of the investigation amounted to nothing.
“It’s too bad!” exclaimed Mr. Swift. “It’s my fault, for dozing off that way.”
“No, indeed, it isn’t!” declared Tom stoutly.
“Is the loss a serious one?” asked his father. “Have you no copy of the plans?”
“Yes, I have a rough draft from which I made the completed drawings, and I can easily make another set. But that isn’t what worries me—the mere loss of the plans.”
“What is it, then, Tom?”
“The fact that whoever took them must know that they are the plans for a sky racer that is to take part in the big meet. I have worked it out on a new principle, and it is not yet patented. Whoever stole my plans can make the same kind of a sky racer that I intended to construct, and so stand as good a chance to win the prize of ten thousand dollars as I will.”
“That certainly is too bad, Tom. I never thought of that. Do you suspect any one?”
“No one, unless it’s Andy Foger. He’s mean enough to do a thing like that, but I didn’t think he’d have the nerve. However, I’ll see if I can learn anything about him. He may have been sneaking around, and if he has my plans he’d ask nothing better than to make a sky racer and beat me.”
“Oh, Tom, I’m so sorry!” exclaimed Mr. Swift “I—I feel very bad about it!”
“There, never mind!” spoke the lad, seeing that his father was looking ill again. “Don’t think any more about it, dad. I’ll get back those plans. Come, now. It’s time for your medicine, and then you must lie down.” For the aged inventor was looking tired and weak.
Wearily he let Tom lead him to his room, and after seeing that the invalid was comfortable Tom called up Dr. Gladby, to have him come and see Mr. Swift. The doctor said his patient had been overdoing himself a little, and must rest more if he was to completely recover.
Learning that his father was no worse, Tom set off to find Andy Foger.
“I can’t rest until I know whether or not he has my plans,” he said to himself. “I don’t want to make a speedy aeroplane, and find out at the last minute that Andy, or some of his cronies, have duplicated it.”
But Tom got little satisfaction from Andy Foger. When that bully was accused of having been around Tom’s house he denied it, and though the young inventor did not actually accuse him of taking the plans, he hinted at it. Andy muttered many indignant negatives, and called on some of his cronies to witness that at the time the plans were taken he and they were some distance from the Swift home.
So Tom was baffled; and though he did not believe the red-haired lad’s denial, there was no way in which he could prove to the contrary.
“If he didn’t take the plans, who did?” mused Tom.
As the young inventor turned away after cross-questioning Andy, the bully called out:
“You’ll never win that ten thousand dollars!”
“What do you know about that?” demanded Tom quickly.
“Oh, I know,” sneered Andy. “There’ll be bigger and better aeroplanes in that meet than you can make, and you’ll never win the prize.”
“I suppose you heard about the affair by sneaking around under our windows, and listening,” said Tom.
“Never mind how I know it, but I do,” retorted the bully.
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing,” said Tom calmly. “If you come around again it won’t be healthy for you. Look out for live wires, if you try to do the listening act any more, Andy!” And with that ominous warning Tom turned away.
“What do you suppose he means, Andy?” asked Pete Bailey, one of Andy’s cronies.
“It means he’s got electrical wires strung around his place,” declared Sam Snedecker, “
and that we’ll be shocked if we go up there. I’m not going!”
“Me, either,” added Pete, and Andy laughed uneasily.
Tom heard what they said, and in the next few days he made himself busy by putting some heavy wires in and about the grounds where they would show best. But the wires carried no current, and were only displayed to impress a sense of fear on Andy and his cronies, which purpose they served well.
But it was like locking the stable door after the horse had been stolen, for with all the precautions he could take Tom could not get back his plans, and he spent many anxious days seeking them. They seemed to have completely disappeared, however, and the young inventor decided there was nothing else to do but to draw new ones.
He set to work on them, and in the meanwhile tried to learn whether or not Andy had the missing plans. He sought this information by stealth, and was aided by his chum, Ned Newton. But all to no purpose. Not the slightest trace or clue was discovered.
CHAPTER FIVE
BUILDING THE SKY RACER
“What will you do, if, after you have your little monoplane all constructed, and get ready to race, you find that some one else has one exactly like it at the meet?” asked Ned Newton one day, when he and Tom were out in the big workshop, talking things over. “What will you do, Tom?”
“I don’t see that there is anything I can do. I’ll go on to the meet, of course, and trust to some improvements I have since brought out, and to what I know about aeroplanes, to help me win the race. I’ll know, too, who stole my plans.”
“But it will be too late, then.”
“Yes, too late, perhaps, to stop them from using the drawings, but not too late to punish them for the theft. It’s a great mystery, and I’ll be on the anxious seat all the while. But it can’t be helped.”
“When are you going to start work on the sky racer?”
“Pretty soon, now. I’ve got another set of plans made, and I’ve fixed them so that if they are stolen it won’t do any one any good.”
“How’s that?”
“I’ve put in a whole lot of wrong figures and measurements, and scores of lines and curves that mean nothing. I have marked the right figures and lines by a secret mark, and when I work on them I’ll use only the proper ones. But any one else wouldn’t know this. Oh, I’ll fool ’em this time!”
“I hope you do. Well, when you get the machine done I’d like to ride in it. Will it carry two, as your Butterfly does?”
“Yes, only it will be much different; and, of course, it will go much faster. I’ll give you a ride, all right, Ned. Well, now I must get busy and see what material I need for what I hope will prove to be the speediest aeroplane in the world.”
“That’s going some! I must be leaving now. Don’t forget your promise. I saw Mary Nestor on my way over here. She was asking for you. She said you must be very busy, for she hadn’t seen you in some time.”
“Um!” was all Tom answered, but by the blush that mounted to his face it was evident that he was more interested in Mary Nestor than his mere exclamation indicated.
When Ned had gone Tom got out pencil and paper, and was busily engaged in making some intricate calculations. He drew odd little sketches on the margin of the sheet, and then wrote out a list of the things he would need to construct the new aeroplane.
This finished, he went to Mr. Jackson, the engineer, and asked him to get the various things together, and to have them put in the special shop where Tom did most of his work.
“I want to get the machine together as soon as I can,” he remarked to the engineer, “for it will need to be given a good tryout before I enter in the race, and I may find that I’ll have to make several changes in it.”
Mr. Jackson promised to attend to the matter right away, and then Tom went in to talk to his father about the motor that was to whirl the propeller of the new air craft.
Mr. Swift had improved very much in the past few days, and though Dr. Gladby said he was far from being well, the physician declared there was no reason why he should not do some inventive work.
He and Tom were deep in an argument of gasoline motors, discussing the best manner of attaching the fins to the cylinders to make them air-cooled, when a voice sounded outside, the voice of Eradicate:
“Heah! Whar yo’ goin’?” demanded the colored man. “Whar yo’ goin’?”
“Somebody’s out in the garden!” exclaimed Tom, jumping up suddenly.
“Perhaps it’s the same person who took the plans!” suggested Mr. Swift.
“Hold on, dere!” yelled Eradicate again.
Then a voice replied:
“Bless my insurance policy! What’s the matter? Have there been burglars around? Why all these precautions? Bless my steam heater! Don’t you know me?”
“Mr. Damon!” cried Tom, a look of pleasure coming over his face. “Mr. Damon is coming!”
“So I should judge,” responded Mr. Swift, with a smile. “I wonder why Eradicate didn’t recognize him?”
They learned why a moment later, for on looking from the library window, Tom saw the colored man coming up the walk behind a well-dressed gentleman.
“Why, mah goodness! It’s Mr. Damon!” exclaimed Eradicate. “I didn’t know yo’, sah, wif dem whiskers on! I didn’t, fo’ a fac’!”
“Bless my razor! I suppose it does make a difference,” said the eccentric man. “Yes, my wife thought I’d look better, and more sedate, with a beard, so I grew one to please her. But I don’t like it. A beard is too warm this kind of weather; eh, Tom?” And Mr. Damon waved his hand to the young inventor and his father, who stood in the low windows of the library. “Entirely too warm, bless my finger-nails, yes!”
“I agree with you!” exclaimed Tom. “Come in! We’re glad to see you!”
“I called to see if you aren’t going on another trip to the North Pole, or somewhere in the Arctic regions,” went on Mr. Damon.
“Why?” inquired Tom.
“Why, then this heavy beard of mine would come in handy. It would keep my throat and chin warm.” And Mr. Damon ran his hands through his luxuriant whiskers.
“No more northern trips right away,” said Tom. “I’m about to build a speedy monoplane, to take part in the big meet at Eagle Park.”
“Oh, yes, I heard about the meet,” said Mr. Damon. “I’d like to be in that.”
“Well, I’m building a machine that will carry two,” went on Tom, “and if you think you can stand a speed of a hundred miles an hour, or better, I’ll let you come with me. There are some races where a passenger is allowed.”
“Have you got a razor?” asked Mr. Damon suddenly.
“What for?” inquired Mr. Swift, wondering what the eccentric man was going to do.
“Why, bless my shaving soap! I’m going to cut off my beard. If I go in a monoplane at a hundred miles an hour I don’t want to make any more resistance to the wind than possible, and my whiskers would certainly hold back Tom’s machine. Where’s a razor? I’m going to shave at once. My wife won’t mind when I tell her what it’s for. Lend me a razor, please, Tom.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of time,” explained the lad, with a laugh. “The race doesn’t take place for over two months. But when it does, I think you would be better off without a beard.”
“I know it,” said Mr. Damon simply. “I’ll shave before we enter the contest, Tom. But now tell me all about it.”
Tom did so, relating the story of the theft of the plans. Mr. Damon was for having Andy arrested at once, but Mr. Swift and his son pointed out that they had no evidence against him.
“All we can do,” said the young inventor, “is to keep watch on him, and see if he is building another aeroplane. He has all the facilities, and he may attempt to get ahead of me. If he enters a sky craft at the meet I’ll be pretty sure that he has made it from my stolen plans.”
“Bless my wing tips!” cried Mr. Damon. “But can’t we do anything to stop him?”
“I’m afraid not,” answered Tom; and the
n he showed Mr. Damon his re-drawn plans, and told in detail of how he intended to construct the new aeroplane.
The eccentric man remained as the guest of the Swift family that night, departing for his home the next day, and promising to be on hand as soon as Tom was ready to test his new craft, which would be in about a month.
As the days passed, Tom, with the help of his father, whose health was slightly better, and with the aid of Mr. Jackson, began work on the speedy little sky racer.
As you boys are all more or less familiar with aeroplanes, we will not devote much space to the description of the new one Tom Swift made. We can describe it in general terms, but there were some features of it which Tom kept a secret from all save his father.
Suffice it to say that Tom had decided to build a small air craft of the single-wing type, known as the monoplane. It was to be a cross between the Bleriot and the Antoinette, with the general features of both, but with many changes or improvements.
The wings were shaped somewhat like those of a humming-bird, which, as is well known, can, at times, vibrate its wings with such velocity that the most rapid camera lens cannot quite catch.
And when it is known that a bullet in flight has been successfully photographed, the speed of the wings of the humming-bird can be better appreciated.
The writer has seen a friend, with a very rapid camera, which was used to snap automobiles in flight, attempt to take a picture of a humming-bird. He got the picture, all right, but the plate was blurred, showing that the wings had moved faster than the lens could throw them on the sensitive plate.
Not that Tom intended the wings of his monoplane to vibrate, but he adopted that style as being the best adapted to allow of rapid flight through the air; and the young inventor had determined that he would clip many minutes from the best record yet made.
The body of his craft, between the forward wings and the rear ones, where the rudders were located, was shaped like a cigar, with side wings somewhat like the fin keels of the ocean liner to prevent a rolling motion. In addition, Tom had an ingenious device to automatically adapt his monoplane to sudden currents of air that might overturn it, and this device was one of the points which he kept secret.
The Tom Swift Megapack Page 104
