The Tom Swift Megapack

by Victor Appleton

  The big gun had been lashed to the deck of the vessel, and was well protected from the weather. In the hold the parts of the disappearing carriage, which Tom had at last succeeded in having made, were securely stowed. In another part of the warship were the big projectiles, some arranged to be fired as solid shots, and others with a bursting charge. There was also a good supply of the powerful explosive, and Tom had taken extraordinary precautions so that it could not be tampered with. Koku had been detailed as a sort of guard over it, and to relieve him was a trustworthy sergeant of marines.

  “If anyone tries to dope that powder now, and spoil my test at Panama,” declared Tom, “he’ll wish he’d never tried it.”

  “Especially if Koku gets hold of him,” added Ned, grimly.

  “But I don’t believe there is any danger,” went on the young inventor. “I spoke about what had happened, and the ordnance board took extra precautions to see that none but men and officers who could be implicitly trusted had anything to do with this expedition.”

  “You don’t really believe anything like treachery would be attempted; do you, Tom?”

  “I don’t know what to say. Certainly I can’t see why anyone connected with Uncle Sam would want to throw cold water on a plan to fortify the canal, even if an outsider has invented the gun—I mean someone like myself, not connected with the army or navy.”

  “If it’s anything it’s jealousy,” declared Ned, “That General Waller—”

  “There you go again, Ned. Let’s not talk about it. Come on forward and see what progress we are making.”

  It must not be supposed that to get the big gun aboard the vessel, arrange for a new supply of the explosive, and for many of the great projectiles, had been easy work. It was a task that taxed the skill and strength of Tom and his friends to the utmost.

  There had been wearying delays, especially in the matter of making the disappearing carriage. At times it seemed as if the required projectiles would never be finished. The powder, too, gave trouble, for sometimes batches would be turned out that were utterly worthless.

  But Tom never gave up, even when it seemed that some of the failures were purposely made. Ned declared that there was a conspiracy against his chum, but Tom could not see it that way. It was due to a combination of circumstances, he insisted.

  But finally the gun had been put aboard the ship, having been transported from the proving ground in the valley, and they were now en route to Panama. There the giant cannon was to be set up, and tried again. If it came up to expectations it was to be finally adopted as the official gun for the protection of the big canal, and Tom would receive a substantial reward.

  “And I’m confident that it will make good,” said the young inventor to his chum, as they paced the deck of the vessel. “In fact, I’m so sure I have practically engaged the Universal Steel Company to hold itself in readiness to make several more of the guns.”

  “But suppose Uncle Sam decides against the cannon on this second test?”

  “Well, then I’ve lost out, that’s all,” declared Tom, philosophically. “But I don’t believe they will.”

  “It certainly is a giant cannon,” remarked Ned, as he paused to look at the prostrate monster, lashed to the deck, with its wrappings of tarpaulins. “It looks bigger here than it did when you fired the shot that saved the town, Tom.”

  “Yes, I suppose it does, by contrast. But let’s go down and see how the powder and shells are standing the trip. I told the captain to have them securely lashed, so if we struck rough weather, and the vessel rolled, they wouldn’t carry away.”

  “Especially the powder,” put in Ned. “If that starts to banging around—well, I’d rather be somewhere else.”

  “Bless my rain gauge!” cried Mr. Damon. “Please don’t say such things. You make me nervous. You’re as bad as that steel foreman.”

  “All right, I’ll be better,” promised Ned, with a laugh.

  The two chums found that every precaution had been taken in regard to the projectiles and powder. Koku was on guard, the giant regarding the boxes of explosive with a calm but determined eye. It would not be well for any unauthorized hand to tamper with them.

  “Am dere anyt’ing I kin do fo’ yo’-all, Massa Tom?” inquired Eradicate, as the young inventor and Ned prepared to go on deck again. The aged colored man had insisted on coming as a sort of personal bodyguard to Tom, and the latter had not the heart to refuse him. Eradicate was desperately jealous of the giant.

  “Huh!” Eradicate had said, “anybody kin sit an’ look at a lot ob dem powder boxes; but ’tain’t everybody what kin wait on Massa Tom. I kin, an’ I’se gwine t’ do it.” And so he had.

  It was planned to proceed directly to Colon, the eastern terminus of the canal, from New York, stopping at Santiago to transact some government business there. The big gun was to be mounted on a barbette near the Gatun locks, pointing out to sea, and the trial shots would be fired over the water.

  Eventually the gun would be so mounted as to swing in a circle, so as to command the land as well as the water; and, in fact, if the government decided to adopt Tom’s giant cannon as the official protective arm of the canal, they would all be so mounted. For, of course, it might be possible for land as well as sea forces to attack and try to capture the big ditch.

  The first few days of the voyage were pleasant enough. The weather was fine, and Tom was kept busy explaining to many of the officers aboard the ship the principles of his gun, powder and projectiles. Members of the ordnance board, who had been detailed to witness the test, were also much interested as Tom modestly described his work on the giant cannon.

  At Santiago de Cuba, when Tom and Ned were standing near the gangway, watching the officers returning from shore leave, for the ship was to proceed soon, after a two days’ stay, the young inventor started as he noticed a military man walking aboard.

  “Look, Ned!” he exclaimed, in a low voice.

  “Where?”

  “At that man—an officer in civilian dress, I should judge—haven’t you seen him before?”

  “I have, Tom. Now, where was it? I seem to remember his face; and yet he wasn’t dressed like this the last time I saw him.”

  “I guess not, Ned. He had on a uniform then.”

  “By jinks! I have it. That German officer—von Brunderger! That’s he!”

  “You’re right, Ned. And he’s got his servant with him, I guess,” and Tom nodded toward a stolid German who was carrying the other’s suitcase.

  “I wonder what he’s doing aboard here?” went on our hero’s chum.

  “We’ll soon know,” spoke Tom. “He’s seen us and is nodding. We might as well go meet him.”

  “Ah, my good friend, Tom Swift!” exclaimed General von Brunderger, genially, as he grasped the hands of Tom and Ned. “I am glad to see you both again.” He seemed to mean it, though he had not been especially cordial to them at the first gun test. “Take my grip below,” he said in German to the man, “and, Rudolph, find Lieutenant Blake and inform him that I am on board. I have been invited to go to Panama by Lieutenant Blake,” he added to Tom. “I have never seen the big ditch that you wonderful Americans have so nearly finished.”

  “It is going to be a big thing,” spoke Tom. “I am proud that my gun is going to help protect it.”

  “Ah, so you were successful, then?” and his voice expressed surprise. “I had not heard. And the big gun; is he here?” Though speaking very good English, von Brunderger occasionally lapsed into the idioms of his Fatherland.

  “Yes, it’s on board,” said Tom. “Are you going to Panama for any special purpose?”

  Ned declared afterward that the German started as Tom asked this question, but if he did the young inventor scarcely noticed it. In an instant, however, von Brunderger was composed again.

  “I go but to see the big ditch before the water is let in,” he replied. “And since your gun is to have a test I shall be glad to witness that. You see, I am commissioned by my Kaise
r to learn all that you Americans will allow me to in reference to your ways of doing things—in the army, the navy and in the pursuit of peace. After all, preparation for war is the best means of securing peace. Your officers have been more than kind and I have taken advantage of the offer to go to Panama. Lieutenant Blake said the ship would stop here, and, as I had business in Cuba, I came and waited. I am delighted to see you both again.”

  He went below, leaving Tom and Ned staring at one another.

  “Well, what do you think of it?” asked Ned.

  “I don’t see anything to be worried about,” declared Tom. “It’s true that a German once tried to make trouble for me, but this von Brunderger is all right, as far as I can learn. He has the highest references, and is an accredited representative of the Kaiser. You are too suspicious, Ned, just as you were in the case of General Waller.”

  “Maybe so.”

  From Santiago, swinging around the island of Jamaica, the warship took her way, with the big gun, to Colon. When half way across the Caribbean Sea they encountered rough weather.

  The storm broke without any unusual preliminaries, but quickly increased to a hurricane, and when night fell it saw the big ship rolling and tossing in a tempestuous sea. Torn was anxious about his big gun, but the captain assured him that double lashings would make it perfectly safe.

  Tom and Ned had seen little of the German officer that day, nor, in fact, since he came aboard. He kept much in the quarters of the other officers, and the report was current that he was a “jolly good fellow.”

  Rather anxious as to the outcome of the storm, Tom turned in late that night, not expecting to sleep much, for there were many unusual noises. But he did drop off into a doze, only to be awakened about an hour later by a commotion on deck.

  “What’s up, Ned?” he called to his chum, who had an adjoining stateroom.

  “I don’t know, Tom. Something is going on, though. Hear that thumping and pounding!”

  As Ned spoke there came a tremendous noise from the deck.

  “By Jove!” yelled Tom, jumping from his berth. “It’s my big gun! It has torn loose from the lashings and may roll overboard!”

  CHAPTER XXII

  AT GATUN LOCKS

  “Steady there now, men! Pass forward those lashings! Careful! Look out, or you’ll be caught by it when she rolls! Another turn around the bitts!”

  It was the officer of the deck giving orders to a number of marines and sailors as Tom hastily clad, leaped on deck, followed by his chum. The warship was pitching and tossing worse than ever in the heaving billows, and the men were engaged in making fast the giant cannon, which, as Tom had surmised, had torn loose from the steel cables holding it down on deck.

  “Come on, Ned!” cried Tom. “We’ve got to help here!”

  “That’s right. Look at her swing, would you? If she hits anything it’s a goner!”

  The breech of the gun appeared to be the end that had come loose, while the muzzle still held fast. And this immense mass of steel was swinging about, eluding the efforts of the ship’s officers and crew to capture it. And it seemed only a question of time when the muzzle would tear loose, too. Then, free on deck, the giant cannon would roll through the frail bulwarks, and plunge into the depths of the sea.

  “Look out for yourselves, boys!” cried the officer, as he saw Tom and Ned. “This is no plaything!”

  “I know it!” gasped Tom. “But we’ve got to fasten it down.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to do,” answered the other. “We did get the bight of a cable over the breech, but the men could not hold it, even though they took a couple of turns around the bitts.”

  “Ned, go call Koku!” cried Tom. “We need him up here.”

  “That’s right!” declared his chum. “If anyone can hold the cable with the weight of the big gun straining on it, the giant can. I’ll get him!”

  “On deck, Koku, quick!” gasped Ned. “Master’s cannon may fall into the sea.”

  “But the powder!” asked the big man, simply. “Master told me to guard the powder. I stay here.”

  “No, I’ll stay!” insisted Ned. “You are needed on deck, I’ll take your place here.”

  Koku stared uncomprehendingly for a moment, while the loosened gun continued to thump and pound on the deck as though it would burst through. Then it filtered through the dull brain of honest Koku what was wanted.

  “I go,” he said, and he hurried up the companionway, while Ned, eager to be with Tom, took up the less exciting work of guarding the powder.

  Once more, with the giant strength of Koku to aid in the work, the task of lashing the gun again to the deck was undertaken. A bight of steel cable was gotten around the breech, and then passed to a big bitt, or stanchion, bolted to the deck. Koku, working on the heaving deck, amid the hurricane, took a turn around the brace.

  There came a roll of the ship that threatened to send the gun sliding against the stanchion, but Koku braced himself. His arms, great bunches of muscles, strained and fairly cracked with the strain. The wire rope seemed to give. Then, as the ship rolled the other way, the strain eased. Koku, aided by the cable, and by the leverage given by the several turns about the bitts, had held the big gun.

  “Quick!” cried Tom. “Now another rope so it can’t roll the opposite way, and we’ll have her.”

  For a moment the ship was on a level keel, and taking advantage of this, when the weight of the gun would be neutral, another cable was passed around it. Then it was a comparatively easy matter to put on more lashings until the giant cannon was once more fast.

  “Whew! But that was tough work!” exclaimed Tom, as he once more entered the stateroom with Ned.

  “It must have been,” agreed his chum, who had been relieved at the powder station by the giant.

  “I thought it would surely go overboard,” went on Tom. “Only for Koku it would have. Those fellows couldn’t hold it when the ship rolled.”

  “How did it happen to get loose?” asked Ned.

  “Oh, the cables frayed, I suppose. I’ll take a look in the morning. Say, but this is some storm!”

  “Is the gun all right now?”

  “Yes, it’s fastened down like a mummy. It can’t get loose unless the whole deck comes with it. We can sleep in peace.”

  “Not much sleep in this blow, I guess,” responded Ned.

  But they did manage to get some rest by morning, at which time the hurricane seemed to have blown itself out. The day saw the sea gradually calm down, and the big cannon was made additionally secure against a possible recurrence of the accident. But a few days more and it would be safe at Colon.

  Tom and Ned had gone on deck soon after breakfast to look at the cannon. All about were pieces of the broken cables, that had been cast aside when the new lashings were put on. Ned picked up one end, remarking:

  “These seem mighty strong. It’s queer how they broke.”

  “Well, there was quite a weight upon them,” spoke Tom.

  Ned did not reply for a moment. Then, as he looked at another piece of a severed cable, he exclaimed:

  “Tom, the weight of your gun never broke these.”

  “What do you mean, Ned?”

  “I mean that they were partly filed, or cut through—then the storm and the pressure of the gun did the rest. Look!”

  He held out the piece of wire rope. There, on the end, could be seen several strands cleanly severed, as though a file or a hacksaw had been used.

  “By Jove!” murmured Tom. He looked about the deck. There was no one near the big gun. “Ned,” whispered his chum, “there’s something wrong here. It’s more of that conspiracy to defeat my aims. Don’t say anything about this, and we’ll keep our eyes open. We’ll do a bit of detective work.”

  “The scoundrels!” exclaimed Ned. “I wish we knew who they were. General Waller isn’t aboard, and what other of the officers has a gun of his own that he would rather see accepted by the government than yours?”

  “Non
e that I know of,” replied Tom.

  “General Waller might have hired someone to—”

  “Don’t go making any unwarranted charges,” warned the young inventor.

  “Or perhaps that German, Tom, might—”

  “Hush!” cautioned Tom. “Here he comes now,” and, as he spoke, General von Brunderger came strolling along the deck.

  “I am glad to see that the accident of last night had no serious effects,” he said, smiling.

  “It was no accident!” burst out Ned.

  “No accident? You surprise me. I thought—”

  “Oh, Ned means that some of the cables look as though they had been cut,” hastily put in Tom, nudging his chum in the ribs as a signal for him to keep quiet.

  “The cables cut!” exclaimed the German, and his voice indicated anxious solicitude.

  “Or else filed,” went on Tom easily, with a warning glance at Ned. “But I dare say they were old cables, that had been used on other work, and may have become frayed. Everything is safe now, though. New cables were lashed on this morning.”

  “I am glad to hear it. It would be a—er—ah, a national calamity to lose so valuable a gun, and the opening of the canal so near at hand. I am glad that your invention is safe, Herr Swift,” and he smiled genially at Tom and Ned.

  “What did you shut me off for?” asked Ned, when he and his chum were alone in their stateroom again.

  “Because I didn’t want you to make any breaks before him,” answered Tom.

  “Then you suspect—”

  “I suspect many things, Ned, but I’m not going to show my hand until I’m ready. I’m going to watch and listen.”

  “And I’ll be with you.”

  But no further accidents occurred. There were no more storms, no attempt was made to meddle with Tom’s powder, and in due season the ship arrived at Colon, and after much labor the great gun, its carriage, the shells and the powder were taken to the barbette at the Gatun locks, designed to admit vessels from the Caribbean Sea into Gatun Lake.

  “And now for some more hard work,” remarked Tom, as all the needful stores were landed.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  NEWS OF THE MINE