“But you never can make the trip there and back in time, with the powder, Tom. It’s impossible. The dam may hold half an hour, or it may not. But, if it does, you can’t do anything!”
“I can’t? Well, I’m going to make a big try, Ned. You stay on the job here. Have everything ready so that when I get back with the new explosive, which I hope hasn’t been tampered with, I can shove it into the breech, and set it off. Have the wires, primers and button all ready for me.”
Then Tom set off on the run.
“Where are you going?” gasped his chum. “You can never run to Preston and back in time.”
“I don’t intend to. I’m going in my airship. Koku, never mind bringing the rest of the powder from the cave. It’s no good. Run out the Humming Bird. I’m going to drive her to the limit. I’ve just got to get that powder here on time!”
“Bless my timetable!” gasped Mr. Damon. “That’s the only way it can be done. Lucky Tom brought the airship along!”
The young inventor, pausing only to get some cans for the explosive, and some straps with which to fasten them in the monoplane, leaped into the speedy craft.
The motor was adjusted; Koku whirled the propeller blades. There was a staccato succession of explosions, a rushing, roaring sound, and then the craft rose like a bird, and Tom circled about, making a straight course for the distant town, while below him the creek rose higher and higher as the dam continued to crumble away.
CHAPTER XIX
BLOWING DOWN THE BARRIER
“Can you see anything of him, Ned?”
“Not a thing, Mr. Damon. Wait—hold on—no! It’s only a bird,” and the lad lowered the glasses with which he had been sweeping the sky. looking for his chum returning in his airship with the powder.
“He’d better hurry,” murmured the foreman. “That dam can’t last much longer. The water is rising fast. When it does go out it will go with a rush. Then good-bye to the village of Preston.”
“Bless my insurance policy!” cried Mr. Damon. “Don’t say such things, my friend.”
“But they’re true!” insisted the man. “You can see for yourself that the cracks in the dam are getting larger. It will be a big flood when it does come. And I’m not altogether sure that we’re safe up here,” he added, as he looked down the sides of the hill to where the creek was now rapidly becoming a raging torrent.
“Bless my hat-band!” gasped Mr. Damon. “You—you are getting on my nerves!”
“I don’t want to be a calamity howler,” went on the foreman; “but we’ve got to face this thing. We’d better get ready to vamoose if Tom Swift doesn’t reach here in time to fire that shot—and he doesn’t seem to be in sight.”
Once more Ned swept the sky with his glasses. The roar of the water below them could be plainly heard now.
“I wish I could get hold of that rascally German,” muttered the foreman. “I’d give him more than a piece of my mind. It will be his fault if the town is destroyed, for Tom’s plan would have saved it. I wonder who he can be, anyhow?”
“Some spy,” declared Ned. “We’ve been having trouble right along, you know, and this is part of the game. I have some suspicions, but Tom doesn’t agree with me. Certainly the fellow, whatever his object, has made trouble enough this time.”
“I should say so,” agreed the foreman.
“Look, Ned!” cried Mr. Damon. “Is that a bird; or is it Tom?” and he pointed to a speck in the sky. Ned quickly focused his glasses on it.
“It’s Tom!” he cried a second later. “It’s Tom in the Humming Bird!”
“Thank Heaven for that!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, fervently, forgetting to bless anything on this occasion. “If only he can get here in time!”
“He’s driving her to the limit!” cried Ned, still watching his chum through the glass. “He’s coming!”
“He’ll need to,” murmured the foreman, grimly. “That dam can’t last ten minutes more. Look at the people fleeing from the valley!”
He pointed to the north, and a confused mass of small black objects—men, women and children, doubtless, who had lingered in spite of the other warning—could be seen clambering up the sides of the valley.
“Is everything ready at the gun?” asked Mr. Damon.
“Everything,” answered Ned, whom Tom had instructed in all the essentials. “As soon as he lands we’ll jam in the powder, and fire the shot.”
“I hope he doesn’t land too hard, with all that explosive on board,” murmured the foreman.
“Bless my checkerboard!” cried Mr. Damon. “Don’t suggest such a thing.”
“I guess we can trust Tom,” spoke Ned.
They looked up. The distant throb of the monoplane’s motor could now be heard above the roar of the swollen waters. Tom could be seen in his seat, and beside him, in the other, was a large package.
Nearer and nearer came the monoplane. It began to descend, very gently, for well Tom Swift knew the danger of hitting the ground too hard with the cargo he carried.
He described a circle in the air to check his speed. Then, gently as a bird, he made a landing not far from the gun, the craft running easily over one of the few level places on the side of the hill. Tom yanked on the brake, and the iron-shod pieces of wood dug into the ground, checking the progress of the monoplane on its bicycle wheels.
“Have you got it, Tom?” yelled Ned.
“I have,” was the answer of the young inventor as he leaped from his seat.
“Is it good powder?” asked the foreman, anxiously.
“I don’t know,” spoke Tom. “I didn’t have time to look. I just rushed up to where I had stored it, got some out and came back with the motor at full speed. Ran into an airpocket, too, and I thought it was all up with me when I began to fall. But I managed to get out of it. Say, we’re going to have it nip and tuck here to save the village.”
“That’s what!” agreed the foreman, as he helped Koku take the cans of explosive.
“Wait until I look at it,” suggested Tom, as he opened one. His trained eye and touch soon told him that this explosive had not been tampered with.
“It’s all right!” he shouted. “Into the gun with it, and we’ll see what happens.”
It was the work of only a few moments to put in the charge. Then, once more, the breech-block was slotted home, and the trailing electric wires unreeled to lead to the bomb-proof.
Tom Swift took one last look through the telescope sights of his giant cannon. He changed the range slightly by means of the hand and worm-screw gear, and then, with the others, ran to the shelter of the cave. For, though the gun had stood the previous tests well, Tom had used a heavier charge this time, both in the firing chamber and in the projectile, and he wanted to take no chances.
“All ready?” asked the young inventor, as he looked around at his friends gathered in the cave.
“I—I guess so,” answered Ned, somewhat doubtfully.
Tom hesitated a moment, then, as his fingers stiffened to press the electric button there sounded to the ears of all a dull, booming sound.
“The dam! It has given way!” cried Ned.
“That’s it!” shouted the foreman. “Fire!”
Tom pressed the button. Once again was that awful tremor of the earth—the racking shake—the terrific explosion and a shock that knocked a couple of the men down.
“All right!” shouted Tom. “The gun held together. It’s safe to go out. We’ll see what happened!”
They all rushed from the shelter of the cave. Before them was an awe-inspiring sight. A great wall of water was coming down the valley, from a large opening in the centre of the dam. It seemed to leap forward like a race horse.
Tom declared afterward that he saw his projectile strike the barrier that separated one valley from the other, but none of the others had eyes-sight as keen as this—and perhaps Tom was in error.
But there was no doubt that they all saw what followed. They heard a distant report as the great projectile burst.
Then a wall of earth seemed to rise up in front of the advancing wall of water. High into the air great stones and masses of dirt were thrown.
“A good shot!” cried the foreman. “Just in the right place, Tom Swift!”
For a moment it was as though that wall of water hesitated, not deciding whether to continue on down the populated valley, or to swing over into the other gash where it could do comparatively little harm. It was a moment of suspense.
Then, as Tom’s great shot had, by means of the exploding projectile, torn down the barrier, the water chose the more direct and shorter path. With a mighty roar, like a distant Niagara, it swept into the new channel the young inventor had made. Into the transverse valley it tumbled and tossed in muddy billows of foam, and only a small portion of the flood added itself to the already swollen creek.
The village of Preston had been saved by the shot from Tom’s giant cannon.
CHAPTER XX
THE GOVERNMENT ACCEPTS
“Whew! Let me sit down somewhere and get my breath!” gasped Tom, when it was all over.
“I should think you would want a bit of quiet,” replied Ned. “You’ve been on the jump since early morning.”
“Bless my dining-room table!” cried Mr. Damon. “I should say so! I’ll go tell the cook to get us all a good meal—we need it,” for a competent cook had been installed in the old farmhouse where Tom and his party had their headquarters.
“But you did the trick, Tom, old man!” exclaimed Ned, fervently, as he looked down the valley and saw the receding water. For, with the opening of the channel into the other valley the flood, at no time particularly dangerous near Preston, was subsiding rapidly.
“He sure did,” declared the foreman. “No one else could have done it, either.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” spoke Tom, modestly. “It just happened so. There was one minute, though, after I got to the place in Preston where I had stored the powder, that I didn’t know whether I would succeed or not.”
“How was that?” asked Mr. Damon.
“Why, in my hurry and excitement I forgot the key to the underground storeroom where I had put the explosive. I knew there was no time to get another, so I took a chance and burst in the door with an axe I found in the freight depot.”
“I should say you did take a chance!” declared Ned, who knew how “freaky” the high explosive was, and how likely it was, at times, to be set off by the least concussion.
“But it came out all right,” went on Tom. “I bundled it into the other seat of my Humming Bird, and started back.”
“Had most of the folks left town?” asked the foreman.
“Nearly all,” replied Tom. “The last of them were hurrying away as I left. And it shows how scared they were, they didn’t pay any attention to me and my flying machine, though I’ll wager some of them never saw one before.”
“Well, they don’t need to be scared any more,” put in Mr. Damon “You saved their homes for them, Tom.”
“I’d like to get hold of the fellow who doped my powder; that’s what I’d like to do,” murmured the young inventor. “Ned, we’ll have to be doubly watchful from now on. But I must take a look at my gun. That last charge may have strained it.”
But the giant cannon was as perfect as the day it was turned out of the shop. Not even the extra charge of the powerful explosive had injured it.
“That’s fine!” cried Tom, as he looked at every part. “As soon as this flood is over we’ll try some more practice shots. But we’re all entitled to a rest now.”
The great gun was covered with tarpaulins to protect it from the weather, and then all retired to the house for a bountiful meal. Late that afternoon nearly all signs of the flood had disappeared, save that along the edges of the creek was much driftwood, showing the height to which the creek had risen. But it would have gone much higher had it not been for Tom’s timely shot.
The water from the impounded lake continued to pour down into the cross valley, and did some damage, but nothing like what would have followed its advent into Preston. The few inhabitants of the gulch into which the young inventor had directed the flood had had warning, and had fled in time. In Preston, some few houses nearest the banks of the rising creek were flooded, but were not carried away.
The following day some of the officers of the water company paid a visit to Tom, to thank him for what he had done. But for him they would have been responsible for great property damage, and loss of life might have followed.
They intended to rebuild the dam, they said, on a new principle, making it much stronger.
“And,” said the president, “we will have an emergency outlet gate into that valley you so providentially opened for us, Mr. Swift. Then, in time of great rain, we can let the water out slowly as we need to.”
Tom’s chief anxiety, now, was to bring his perfected gun to the notice of the United States Government officials. To have them accept it, he knew he must give it a test before the ordnance board, and before the officers of the army and navy. Accordingly he prepared for this.
He ordered several new projectiles, some of a different type from those heretofore used, and leaving Koku and Ned in charge of the gun, went back to Shopton to superintend the manufacture of an additional supply of his explosive. He took care, too, that no spies gained access to it.
Then, with a plentiful supply of ammunition and projectiles, Tom resumed his practice in the lonely valley. He had, in the meanwhile, sent requests to the proper government officials to come and witness the tests.
At first he met with no success, and he learned, incidentally, that General Waller had built a new gun, the merits of which he was also anxious to show.
“It’s a sort of rivalry between us,” said Tom to Ned.
But, in a way, fortune favored our hero. For when General Waller tested his new gun, though it did not burst, it did not come up to expectations, and its range was not as great as some of the weapons already in use.
Then, too, Captain Badger acted as Tom’s friend at court. He “pulled wires” to good advantage, and at last the government sent word that one of the ordnance officers would be present on a certain day to witness the tests.
“I wish the whole board had come,” said Tom. “Probably they have only sent a young fellow, just out of West Point, who will turn me down.
“But I’m going to give him the surprise of his life; and if he doesn’t report favorably, and insist on the whole board coming out here, I’ll be much disappointed.”
Tom made his preparations carefully, and certainly Captain Waydell, the young officer who came to represent Uncle Sam, was impressed. Tom sent shell after shell, heavily charged, against the side of the mountain. Great holes and gashes were torn in the earth. The gun even exceeded the range of thirty miles. And the heaviest armor plate that could be procured was to the projectiles of the giant cannon like cheese to a revolver bullet.
“It’s great, Mr. Swift! Great!” declared the young captain. “I shall strongly recommend that the entire board see this test.” And when Tom let him fire the gun himself the young man was more than delighted.
He was as good as his word, and a week later the entire ordnance board, from the youngest member to the grave and grizzled veterans, were present to witness the test of Tom’s giant cannon.
It is needless to say that it was successful. Tom and Ned, not to mention Mr. Damon, Koku and every loyal member of the steel working gang, saw to it that there was no hitch. The solid shots were regarded with wonder, and when the explosive one was sent against the hillside, making a geyser of earth, the enthusiasm was unbounded.
“We shall certainly recommend your gun, Mr. Swift,” declared the Chief of Staff. “It does just what we want it to do, and we have no doubt that Congress will appropriate the money for several with which to fortify the Panama Canal.”
“The gun is most wonderful,” spoke a voice with a German accent. “It is surprising!”
Tom and Ned both started. They saw an off
icer, evidently a foreigner, resplendent in gold trimmings, and with many medals, standing near the secretary of the ordnance board.
“Yes, General von Brunderger,” agreed the chief, “it is a most timely invention. Mr. Swift, allow me to present you to General von Brunderger, of the German army, who is here learning how Uncle Sam does things.”
Tom bowed and shook hands. He glanced sharply at the German, but was sure he had never seen him before. Then all the board, and General von Brunderger, who, it appeared, was present as an invited guest, examined the big cannon critically, while Tom explained the various details.
When the board members left, the chief promised to let Tom know the result of the formal report as soon as possible.
The young inventor did not have long to wait. In about two weeks, during which time he and Ned perfected several little matters about the cannon, there came an official-looking document.
“Well, we’ll soon know the verdict,” spoke Tom, somewhat nervously, as he opened the envelope. Quickly he read the enclosure.
“What is it!” cried Ned.
“The government accepts my gun!” exclaimed the young inventor. “It will purchase a number as soon as they can be made. We are to take one to Panama, where it will be set up. Hurray, Ned, my boy! Now for Panama!”
CHAPTER XXI
OFF FOR PANAMA
“Well, Tom, it doesn’t seem possible; does it, old man?”
“You’re right, Ned—in a way. And yet, after all the hard work we’ve done, almost anything is possible.”
“Hard work! We? Oh, pshaw! You’ve done most of it, Tom. I only helped here and there.”
“Indeed, and you did more than that. If it hadn’t been for you, Mr. Damon and Koku we’d never have gotten off as soon as we did. The government is the limit for doing things, sometimes.”
“Bless my timetable! but I agree with you,” put in Mr. Damon. “But at last we are on the way, in spite of delays.”
This conversation took place on board one of Uncle Sam’s warships, which the President had designated to take Tom’s giant cannon to the Panama Canal.
The Tom Swift Megapack Page 201
