The Tom Swift Megapack

by Victor Appleton

  “Then why did he shoot at me?”

  “That was a mistake,” explained Tom, “and I apologize to you for it.”

  “Humph! A lot of good that would do me, if I’d been killed!” muttered the miser. “I’m going to sue you for this. You might have put me in my grave.”

  “Impossible!” exclaimed Tom.

  “Why impossible?” demanded the visitor.

  “Because I had so set the rifle that almost the entire force of the electrical bullet was expended in blowing apart the scarecrow figure I made for a test,” explained Tom. “All that passed through your house was a small charge, and, if it HAD hit you there would have been no more than a little shock, such as you would feel in taking hold of an electric battery.”

  “How do I know this?” asked the man cunningly. “You say so, but for all I know you may have wanted to kill me.”

  “Why?” asked Tom, trying not to laugh.

  “Oh, so you might get some of my money. Of course I ain’t got none,” the miser went on quickly, “but folks thinks I’ve got a lot, and I have to be on the lookout all the while, or they’d murder me for it.”

  “I wouldn’t,” declared the young inventor. “It was a mistake. Only part of the spent charge passed near you. Why, if it had been a powerful charge you would never have been able to come over here. I set the main charge to go off inside the scarecrow, and it did so, as you can see by looking at what’s left of it,” and he pointed to the pile of clothes and rags.

  “How do I know this?” insisted the miser with a leer at the two lads.

  “Because if the charge had gone off either before or after it passed through the figure, it would not have caused such havoc of the cloth and straw,” explained Tom. “First the charge would have destroyed the steel plate, which it passed through without even denting it. Why, look here, I will now fire the rifle at short range, and set it to destroy the plate. See what happens.”

  He quickly adjusted the weapon, and aimed it at the plate, which, had again been set up on the range. This time Tom was careful to set the gage so that even a small part of the spent charge would not go outside the gallery.

  The young inventor pressed the button, and instantly the heavy steel plate was bent, torn and twisted as though a small sized cannon ball had gone through it.

  “That’s what the rifle will do at short range,” said Tom. “Don’t worry, Mr. Moker, you didn’t have a narrow escape. You were in no danger at all, though I apologize for the fright I caused you.”

  “Humph! That’s an easy way to get out of it!” exclaimed the miser. “I believe I could sue you for damages, anyhow. Look at my scorched wall paper.”

  “Oh, I’ll pay for that,” said Tom quickly, for he did not wish to have trouble with the unpleasant man. “Will ten dollars be enough?” He knew that the whole room could be repapered for that, and he did not believe the wall-covering was sufficiently damaged for such work to be necessary.

  “Well, if you’ll make it twelve dollars, I won’t say anything more about it,” agreed the miser craftily, “though it’s worth thirteen dollars, if it is a penny. Give me twelve dollars, Tom Swift, and I won’t prosecute you.”

  “All right, twelve dollars it shall be,” responded the young inventor, passing over the money, and glad to be rid of the unpleasant character.

  “And after this, just fire that gun of yours the other way,” suggested Mr. Moker as he went out, carefully folding the bills which Tom had handed him.

  “Hum! that was rather queer,” remarked Ned, after a pause.

  “It sure was,” agreed his chum. “This rifle will do more than I thought it would. I’ll have to be more careful. I was sure I set the gage for two hundred feet. I’ll have to invent some automatic attachment to prevent it being discharged when the gage is set wrong.” Let us state here that Tom did this, and never had another accident.

  “Well, does this end the test?” asked Ned.

  “No, indeed. I want you to try it, while I look on,” spoke Tom. “We haven’t any more stuffed figures to fire at, but I’ll set up some targets. Come on, try your luck at a shot.”

  “I’m afraid I might disturb Mr. Moker, or some of the neighbors.”

  “No danger. I’ve got it adjusted right now. Come on, see if you can shatter this steel target,” and Tom set up a small one at the end of the range.

  Then, having properly fixed the weapon, Tom handed it to his chum, and, taking his place in a protected part of the gallery, prepared to watch the effect of the shot.

  “Let her go!” cried Tom, and Ned pressed the button.

  The effect was wonderful. Though there was no noise, smoke nor flame, the steel plate seemed to crumple up, and collapse as if it had been melted in the fire. There was a jagged hole through the center, but some frail boards back of it were not even splintered.

  “Good shot!” cried Tom enthusiastically. “I had the distance gage right that time.”

  “You sure did,” agreed Ned. “The electric bullet stopped as soon as it did its work on the plate. What’s next?”

  “I’m going to try a difficult test,” explained Tom. “You know I said the gun would shoot luminous charges?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’m going to try that, now. I wish we had another image to shoot at, but I’ll take a big dry-goods box, and make believe it’s an elephant. Now, this is going to be a hard test, such as we’d meet with, if we were hunting in Africa. I want you to help me.”

  “What am I to do?” asked Ned.

  “I want you to go outside,” explained Tom, “set up a dry-goods box against the side of the little hill back of the shed, and not tell me where you put it. Then I’ll go out, and, by means of the luminous charge, I’ll locate the box, set the distance gage, and destroy it.”

  “Well, you can see it anyhow, in the moonlight,” objected Ned.

  “No, the moon is under a cloud now,” explained Tom, looking out of a window. “It’s quite dark, and will give me just the test I want for my new electric rifle.”

  “But won’t it be dangerous, firing in the dark? Suppose you misjudge the distance, and the bullet, or charge, files off and hits some one?”

  “It can’t. I’ll set the distance gage before I shoot. But if I should happen to make a mistake the charge will go into the side of the hill, and spend itself there. There is no danger. Go ahead, and set up the box, and then come and tell me. Mr. Jackson will help you.”

  Ned and the engineer left the gallery. As Tom had said, it was very dark now, and if Tom could see in the night to hit a box some distance away, his weapon would be all that he claimed for it.

  “This will do,” said the engineer, as he pointed to a box, one of several piled up outside the shed. The two could hardly see to make their way along, carrying it to the foot of the hill, and they stumbled several times. But at last it was in position, and then Ned departed to call Tom, and have him try the difficult test—that of hitting an object in the dark.

  CHAPTER IV

  BIG TUSKS WANTED

  “Well, are you all ready for me?” asked the young inventor, as he took up his curious weapon, and followed Ned out into the yard. It was so dark that they had fairly to stumble along.

  “Yes, we’re ready,” answered Ned. “And you’ll be a good one, Tom, if you do this stunt. Now stand here” he went on, as he indicated a place as well as he could in the dark. “The box is somewhere in that direction,” and he waved his hand vaguely. “I’m not going to tell you any more, and let’s see you find it.”

  “Oh, I will, all right—or, rather, my electric rifle will,” asserted Tom.

  The inventor of the curious and terrible weapon took his position. Behind him stood Ned and Mr. Jackson, and just before Tom was ready to fire, his father came stalking through the darkness, calling to them.

  “Are you there, Tom?”

  “Yes Dad, is anything the matter?”

  “No, but I thought I’d like to see what luck you have. Rad was saying y
ou were going to have a test in the dark.”

  “I’m about ready for it,” replied Tom. “I’m going to blow up a box that I can’t see. You know how it’s done, Dad, for you helped me in perfecting the luminous charge, but it’s going to be something of a novelty to the others. Here we go, now!”

  Tom raised his rifle, and aimed it in the dark. Ned Newton, straining his eyes to see, was sure the young inventor was pointing the gun at least twenty feet to one side of where the box was located, but he said nothing, for from experiences in the past, he realized that Tom knew what he was doing.

  There was a little clicking sound, as the youth moved some gear wheel on his gun. Then there came a faint crackling noise, like some distant wireless apparatus beginning to flash a message through space.

  Suddenly a little ball of purplish light shot through the darkness and sped forward like some miniature meteor. It shed a curious illuminating glow all about, and the ground, and the objects on it were brought into relief as by a lightning flash.

  An instant later the light increased in intensity, and seemed to burst like some piece of aerial fireworks. There was a bright glare, in which Ned and the others could see the various buildings about the shed. They could see each other’s faces, and they looked pale and ghastly in the queer glow. They could see the box, brought into bold relief, where Ned and the engineer had placed it.

  Then, before the light had died away, they witnessed a curious sight. The heavy wooden box seemed to dissolve, to collapse and to crumple up like one of paper, and ere the last rays of the illuminating bullet faded, the watchers saw the splinters of wood fall back with a clatter in a little heap on the spot where the dry- goods case had been.

  A silence followed, and the darkness was all the blacker by contrast with the intense light. At length Tom spoke, and he could not keep from his voice a note of triumph.

  “Well, did I do it?” he asked.

  “You sure did!” exclaimed Ned heartily.

  “Fine!” cried Mr. Swift.

  “Golly! I wouldn’t gib much fo’ de hide ob any burglar what comed around heah!” muttered Eradicate Sampson. “Dat box am knocked clean into nuffiness, Massa Tom.”

  “That’s what I wanted to do,” explained the lad. “And I guess this will end the test for tonight.”

  “But I don’t exactly understand it,” spoke Ned, as they all moved toward the Swift home, Eradicate going to the stable to see how his mule was. “Do you have two kinds of bullets, Tom, one for night and one for the daytime?”

  “No,” answered Tom, “there is only one kind of bullet, and, as I have said, that isn’t a bullet at all. That is, you can’t see it, or handle it, but you can feel it. Strictly speaking, it is a concentrated discharge of wireless electricity directed against a certain object. You can’t see it any more than you can see a lightning bolt, though that is sometimes visible as a ball of fire. My electric rifle bullets are similar to a discharge of lightning, except that they are invisible.”

  “But we saw the one just now,” objected Ned.

  “No, you didn’t see the bullet,” said Tom.

  “You saw the illuminating flash which I send out just before I fire, to reveal the object I am to hit. That is another part of my rifle and is only used at night.”

  “You see I shoot out a ball of electrical fire which will disclose the target, or the enemy at whom I am firing. As soon as that is discharged the rifle automatically gets ready to shoot the electric charge, and I have only to press the proper button, and the ‘bullet,’ as I call it, follows on the heels of the ball of light. Do you see?”

  “Perfectly,” exclaimed Ned with a laugh. “What a gun that would be for hunting, since most all wild beasts come out only at night.”

  “That was one object in making this invention,” said Tom. “I only hope I get a chance to use it now.”

  “I thought you were going to Africa after elephants,” spoke Mr. Swift.

  “Well, I did think of it,” admitted Tom, “but I haven’t made any definite plans. But come into the house, Ned, and I’ll show you more in detail how my rifle works.”

  Thereupon the two chums spent some time going into the mysteries of the new weapon. Mr. Swift and Mr. Jackson were also much interested, for, though they had seen the gun previously and had helped Tom perfect it, they had not yet tired of discussing its merits.

  Ned stayed quite late that night, and promised to come over the next day, and watch Tom do some more shooting.

  “I’ll show you how to use it, too,” promised the young inventor, and he was as good as his word, initiating Ned into the mysteries of the electric rifle, and showing him to store the charges of death- dealing electricity in the queer-looking stock.

  For a week after that Tom and Ned practiced with the terrible gun, taking care not to have any more mishaps like the one that had marked the first night. They were both good shots with ordinary weapons and it was not long before they had equaled their record with the new instrument.

  It was one warm afternoon, when Tom was out in the meadow at one side of his house, practicing with his rifle on some big boxes he had set up for targets, that he saw an elderly man standing close to the fence watching him. When Tom blew to pieces a particularly large packing-case, standing a long distance away from it, the stranger called to the youth.

  “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but is that a dynamite gun you are using?”

  “No, it’s an electric rifle,” was the answer.

  “Would you mind telling me something about it?” went on the elderly man, and as Tom’s weapon was now fully protected by patents, the young inventor cordially invited the stranger to come nearer and see how it worked.

  “That’s the greatest thing I ever saw!” exclaimed the man enthusiastically when Tom had blown up another box, and had told of the illumination for night firing. “The most wonderful weapon I ever heard of! What a gun it would be in my business.”

  “What is your trade?” asked Tom curiously, for he had noted that the man, while aged, was rugged and hearty, and his skin was tanned a leathery brown, showing that he was much in the open air.

  “I’m a hunter,” was the reply, “a hunter of big game, principally elephants, hippos and rhinoceroses. I’ve just finished a season in Africa, and I’m going back there again soon. I came on to New York to get a new elephant gun. I’ve got a sister living over in Waterford, and I’ve been visiting her. I went out for a stroll to- day, and I came farther than I intended. That’s how I happened to be passing here.”

  “A sister in Waterford, eh?” mused Tom, wondering whether the elephant hunter had met Mr. Damon. “And how soon are you going hack to Africa, Mr.—er—” and Tom hesitated.

  “Durban is my name, Alexander Durban,” said the old man. “Why, I am to start back in a few weeks. I’ve got an order for a pair of big elephant tusks—the largest I can get for a wealthy New York man,— and I’m anxious to fulfil the contract. The game isn’t what it once was. There’s more competition and the elephants are scarcer. So I’ve got to hustle.”

  “I got me a new gun. But my! it’s nothing to what yours is. With that weapon I could do about as I pleased. I could do night hunting, which is hard in the African jungle. Then I wouldn’t have any trouble getting the big tusks I’m after. I could get a pair of them, and live easy the rest of my life. Yes, I wouldn’t ask anything better than a gun like yours. But I s’pose they cost like the mischief?” He looked a question at Tom.

  “This is the only one there is,” was the lad’s answer. “But I am very glad to have met you, Mr. Durban. Won’t you come into the house? I’m sure my father will be glad to see you, and I have something I’d like to talk to you about,” and Tom, with many wild ideas in his head, led the old elephant hunter toward the house.

  The dream of the young inventor might come true after all.

  CHAPTER V

  RUSH WORK

  Mr. Swift made the African hunter warmly welcome, and listened with pride to the words of
praise Mr. Durban bestowed on Tom regarding the rifle.

  “Yes, my boy has certainly done wonders along the inventive line,” said Mr. Swift.

  “Not half as much as you have, Dad,” interrupted the lad, for Tom was a modest youth.

  “You should see his sky racer,” went on the old inventor.

  “Sky racer? What’s that?” asked Mr. Durban. “Is it another kind of gun or cannon?”

  “It’s an aeroplane—an airship,” explained Mr. Swift.

  “An airship!” exclaimed the old elephant hunter. “Say, you don’t mean that you make balloons, do you?”

  “Well, they’re not exactly balloons,” replied Tom, as he briefly explained what an aeroplane was, for Mr. Durban, having been in the wilds of the jungle so much, had had very little chance to see the wonders and progress of civilization.

  “They are better than balloons,” went on Tom, “for they can go where you want them to.”

  “Say! That’s the very thing!” cried the old hunter enthusiastically. “If there’s one thing more than another that is needed in hunting in Africa it’s an airship. The travel through the jungle is something fierce, and that, more than anything else, interferes with my work. I can’t cover ground enough, and when I do get on the track of a herd of elephants, and they get away, it’s sometimes a week before I can catch up to them again.”

  “For, in spite of their size, elephants can travel very fast, and once they get on the go, nothing can stop them. An airship would be the very thing to hunt elephants with in Africa—an airship and this electric rifle. I wonder why you haven’t thought of going, Tom Swift.”

  “I have thought of it,” answered the young inventor, “and that’s why I asked you in. I want to talk about it.”

  “Do you mean you want to go?” demanded the old man eagerly.

  “I certainly do!”

  “Then I’m your man! Say, Tom Swift, I’d be proud to have you go to Africa with me. I’d be proud to have you a member of my hunting party, and, though I don’t like to boast, still if you’ll ask any of the big-game people they’ll tell you that not every one can accompany Aleck Durban.”