The Tom Swift Megapack

by Victor Appleton

  As La Foy spoke, he opened a storeroom door that led off from the main, or amidship, cabin. This room was intended to contain the supplies and stores that would be taken on a long voyage. It was one of two, being the larger, and now contained only a few odds and ends of little importance. It made a strong prison, as Tom well knew, having planned it.

  One by one, beginning with Tom, the prisoners were taken up and placed in a recumbent position on the floor of the storeroom. Then were brought in the engineer and assistant pilot, as well as Koku and a machinist whom Tom had brought along to help him. Now the young inventor and all his friends were together. It took four men to carry Koku in, the giant being covered with a network of ropes.

  “On second thought,” said La Foy, as he saw Koku being placed with his friends, “I think we will keep the big man with us. We had trouble enough to subdue him. Carry him back to the engine-room.”

  So Koku, trussed up like some roped steer, was taken out again.

  “Now then,” said La Foy to his prisoners, as he stood in the door of the room, “I will unbind one of you, and he may loose the bonds of the others.”

  As he spoke, he took the rope from Tom’s hands, and then, quickly slipping out, locked and barred the door.

  CHAPTER XXII

  APPREHENSIONS

  For a moment or two, after the ropes binding his hands were loosed, Tom Swift did nothing. He was not only stunned mentally, but the bonds had been pulled so tightly about his wrists that the circulation was impeded, and his cramped muscles required a little time in which to respond.

  But presently he felt the tingle of the coursing blood, and he found he could move his arms. He raised them to his head, and then his first care was to remove the pad of cloth that formed a gag over his mouth. Now he could talk.

  “I—I’ll loosen you all in just a second,” he said, as he bent over to pick at the knot of the rope around his legs. His own voice sounded strange to him.

  “I don’t know what it’s all about, any more than you do,” he went on, speaking to the others. “It’s a fierce game we’re up against, and we’ve got to make the best of it. As soon as we can move, and talk, we’ll decide what’s best to do. Whoever these fellows are, and I believe they are the foreign spies I’ve been warned about, they are in complete possession of the airship.”

  Tom found it no easy matter to loosen the bonds on his feet. The ropes were well tied, and Tom’s fingers were stiff from the lack of circulation of blood. But finally he managed to free himself. When he stood up in the dim storeroom, that was now a prison for all save Koku, he found that he could not walk. He almost toppled over, so weak were his legs from the tightness of the ropes. He sat down and worked his muscles until they felt normal again.

  A few minutes later, weak and rather tottery, he managed to reach Mr. Damon, whom he first unbound. He realized that Mr. Damon was the oldest of his friends, and, consequently, would suffer most. And it was characteristic of the eccentric gentleman that, as soon as his gag was removed he burst out with:

  “Bless my wristlets, Tom! What does it all mean?”

  “That’s more than I can say, Mr. Damon,” replied Tom, with a mournful shake of his head. “I’m very sorry it happened, for it looks as though I hadn’t taken proper care. The idea of those men stowing themselves away on board here, and me not knowing it; and then coming out unexpectedly and getting possession of the craft! It doesn’t speak very well for my smartness.”

  “Oh, well, Tom, anyone might have been fooled by those plotting foreigners,” said Mr. Damon. “Now, we’ll try to turn matters about and get the best of them. Oh, but it feels good to be free once more!”

  He stretched his benumbed and stiffened limbs and then helped Tom free the others. They stood up, looking at each other in their dimly lighted prison.

  “Well, if this isn’t the limit I don’t know what is!” cried Ned Newton.

  “They got the best of you, Tom,” spoke Lieutenant Marbury.

  “Are they really foreign spies?” asked Captain Warner.

  “Yes,” replied his assistant. “They managed to carry out the plot we tried to frustrate. It was a good trick, too, hiding on board, and coming out with a rush.”

  “Is that what they did?” asked Mr. Damon.

  “It looks so,” observed Tom. “The attack must have started in the engine-room,” he went on, with a look at Mound and Ventor. “What happened there?” he asked.

  “Well, that’s about the way it was,” answered the engineer. “We were working away, making some adjustments, oiling the parts and seeing that everything was running smoothly, when, all at once, I heard Koku yell. He had gone in the oil room. At first I thought something had gone wrong with the ship, but, when I looked at the giant, I saw he was being attacked by four strange men. And, before I, or any of the other men, could do anything, they all swarmed down on us.

  “There must have been a dozen of them, and they simply overwhelmed us. One of them hit Koku on the head with an iron bar, and that took all the fight out of the giant, or the story might have been a different one. As it was, we were overpowered, and that’s all I know until we were carried in here, and saw you folks all tied up as we were.”

  “They burst in on us in the same way,” Tom explained. “But where did they come from? Where were they hiding?”

  “In the oil and gasoline storeroom that opens out of the motor compartment,” answered Mound, the engineer. “It isn’t half full, you know, and there’s room for more than a dozen men in it. They must have gone in some time last night, when the airship was in the hangar, and remained hidden among the boxes and barrels until they got ready to come out and overpower us.”

  “That’s it,” decided Tom. “But I don’t understand how they got in. The hangar was well guarded all night.”

  “Some of your men might have been bribed,” suggested Ned.

  “Yes, that is so,” admitted Tom, and, later, he learned that such had been the case. The foreign spies, for such they were, had managed to corrupt one of Tom’s trusted employees, who had looked the other way when La Foy and his fellow-conspirators sneaked into the airship shed and secreted themselves.

  “Well, discussing how they got on board isn’t going to do us any good now,” Tom remarked ruefully. “The question is—what are we going to do?”

  “Bless my fountain pen!” cried Mr. Damon. “There’s only one thing to do!”

  “What is that?” asked Ned.

  “Why, get out of here, call a policeman, and have these scoundrels arrested. I’ll prosecute them! I’ll have my lawyer on hand to see that they get the longest terms the statutes call for! Bless my pocketbook, but I will!” and Mr. Damon waxed quite indignant.

  “That’s easier said than done,” observed Torn Swift, quietly. “In the first place, it isn’t going to be an easy matter to get out of here.”

  He looked around the storeroom, which was then their prison. It was illuminated by a single electric light, which showed some boxes and barrels piled in the rear.

  “Nothing in them to help us get out,” Tom went on, for he knew what the contents were.

  “Oh, we’ll get out,” declared Ned confidently, “but I don’t believe we’ll find a policeman ready to take our complaint. The upper air isn’t very well patrolled as yet.”

  “That’s so,” agreed Mr. Damon. “I forgot that we were in an airship. But what is to be done, Tom? We really are captives aboard our own craft.”

  “Yes, worse luck,” returned the young inventor. “I feel foolish when I think how we let them take us prisoners.”

  “We couldn’t help it,” Ned commented. “They came on us too suddenly. We didn’t have a chance. And they outnumbered us two to one. If they could take care of big Koku, what chance did we have?”

  “Very little,” said Engineer Mound. “They were desperate fellows. They know something about aircraft, too. For, as soon as Koku, Ventor and I were disposed of, some of them went at the machinery as if they had been used
to running it all their lives.”

  “Oh, the foreigners are experts when it comes to craft of the air,” said Captain Warner.

  “Well, they seem to be running her, all right,” admitted the young inventor, “and at good speed, too. They have increased our running rate, if I am any judge.”

  “By several miles an hour,” confirmed the assistant pilot. “Though in which direction they are heading, and what they are going to do with us is more than I can guess.”

  “That’s so!” agreed Mr. Damon. “What is to become of us? They may heave us overboard into the ocean!”

  “Into the ocean!” cried Ned apprehensively. “Are we near the sea?”

  “We must be, by this time,” spoke Tom. “We were headed in that direction, and we have come almost far enough to put us somewhere over the Atlantic, off the Jersey coast.”

  A look of apprehension was on the faces of all. But Tom’s face did not remain clouded long.

  “We won’t try to swim until we have to,” he said. “Now, let’s take an account of stock, and see if we have any means of getting out of this prison.”

  CHAPTER XXIII

  ACROSS THE SEA

  With one accord the hands of the captives sought their pockets. Probably the first thought of each one was a knife—a pocket knife. But blank looks succeeded their first hopeful ones, for the hands came out empty.

  “Not a thing!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “Not a blessed thing! They have even taken my keys and—my fountain pen!”

  “I guess they searched us all while they were struggling with us, tying us up,” suggested Ned. “I had a knife with a big, strong blade, but it’s gone.”

  “So is mine,” echoed Tom.

  “And I haven’t even a screwdriver, or a pocket-wrench,” declared the engineer, “though I had both.”

  “They evidently knew what they were doing,” said Lieutenant Marbury. “I don’t usually carry a revolver, but of late I have had a small automatic in my pocket. That’s gone, too.”

  “And so are all my things,” went on his naval friend. “That Frenchman, La Foy, was taking no chances.”

  “Well, if we haven’t any weapons, or means of getting out of here, we must make them,” said Tom, as hopefully as he could under the circumstances. “I don’t know all the things that were put in this storeroom, and perhaps there may be something we can use.”

  “Shall we make the try now?” asked Ned. “I’m getting thirsty, at least. Lucky we had supper before they came out at us.”

  “Well, there isn’t any water in here, or anything to eat, of so much I am sure,” went on Tom “So we will have to depend on our captors for that.”

  “At least we can shout and ask for water,” said Lieutenant Marbury. “They have no excuse for being needlessly cruel.”

  They all agreed that this might not be a bad plan, and were preparing to raise a united shout, when there came a knock on the door of their prison.

  “Are you willing to listen to reason?” asked a voice they recognized as that of La Foy.

  “What do you mean by reason?” asked Tom bitterly. “You have no right to impose any conditions on us.”

  “I have the right of might, and I intend exercising it,” was the sharp rejoinder. “If you will listen to reason—”

  “Which kind—yours or ours?” asked Tom pointedly.

  “Mine, in this case,” snapped back the Frenchman. “What I was going to say was that I do not intend to starve you, or cause you discomfort by thirst. I am going to open the door and put in food and water. But I warn you that any attempt to escape will be met with severe measures.

  “We are in sufficient force to cope with you. I think you have seen that.” He spoke calmly and in perfect English, though with a marked accent. “My men are armed, and will stand here ready to meet violence with violence,” he went on. “Is that understood?”

  For a moment none of the captives replied.

  “I think it will be better to give in to him at least for a while,” said Captain Warner in a low voice to Tom. “We need water, and will soon need food. We can think and plan better if we are well nourished.”

  “Then you think I should promise not to raise a row?”

  “For the time being—yes.”

  “Well, I am waiting!” came in sharp tones from the other side of the portal.

  “Our answer is—yes,” spoke Tom. “We will not try to get out—just yet,” he added significantly.

  A key was heard grating in the lock, and, a moment later, the door slid back. Through the opening could be seen La Foy and some of his men standing armed. Others had packages of food and jugs of water. A plentiful supply of the latter was carried aboard the Mars.

  “Keep back from the door!” was the stern command of La Foy. “The food and drink will be passed in only if you keep away from the entrance. Remember my men are armed!”

  The warning was hardly needed, for the weapons could plainly be seen. Tom had half a notion that perhaps a concerted rush would carry the day for him and his friends, but he was forced to abandon that idea.

  While the guards looked on, others of the “pirate crew,” as Ned dubbed them, passed in food and water. Then the door was locked again.

  They all felt better after drinking the water, which was made cool by evaporation, for the airship was quite high above the earth when Tom’s enemies captured it, and the young inventor felt sure it had not descended any.

  No one felt much like eating, however, so the food was put away for a time. And then, somewhat refreshed, they began looking about for some means of getting out of their prison.

  “Of course we might batter down the door, in time, by using some of these boxes as rams,” said Tom. “But the trouble is, that would make a noise, and they could stand outside and drive us back with guns and pistols, of which they seem to have plenty.”

  “Yes, and they could turn some of your own quick-firers on us,” added Captain Warner. “No, we must work quietly, I think, and take them unawares, as they took us. That is our only plan.”

  “We will be better able to see what we have here by daylight,” Tom said. “Suppose we wait until morning?”

  That plan was deemed best, and preparations made for spending the night in their prison.

  It was a most uncomfortable night for all of them. The floor was their only bed, and their only covering some empty bags that had contained supplies. But even under these circumstances they managed to doze off fitfully.

  Once they were all awakened by a violent plunging of the airship. The craft seemed to be trying to stand on her head, and then she rocked violently from side to side, nearly turning turtle. “What is it?” gasped Ned, who was lying next to Tom.

  “They must be trying some violent stunts,” replied the young inventor, “or else we have run into a storm.”

  “I think the latter is the case,” observed Lieutenant Marbury.

  And, as the motion of the craft kept up, though less violently, this was accepted as the explanation. Through the night the Mars flew, but whither the captives knew not.

  The first gray streaks of dawn finally shone through the only window of their prison. Sore, lame and stiff, wearied in body and disturbed in mind, the captives awoke. Tom’s first move was toward the window. It was high up, but, by standing on a box, he could look through it. He uttered an exclamation.

  “What is it?” asked Ned, swaying to and fro from the violent motion ef the aerial warship.

  “We are away out over the sea,” spoke Tom, “and in the midst of a bad storm.”

  CHAPTER XXIV

  THE LIGHTNING BOLT

  Tom turned away from the window, to find his companions regarding him anxiously.

  “A storm,” repeated Ned. “What sort?”

  “It might turn into any sort,” replied Tom. “All I can see now is a lot of black clouds, and the wind must be blowing pretty hard, for there’s quite a sea on.”

  “Bless my galvanometer!” cried Mr. Damon. “Then we a
re out over the ocean again, Tom?”

  “Yes, there’s no doubt of it.”

  “What part?” asked the assistant pilot.

  “That’s more than I can tell,” Tom answered.

  “Suppose I take a look?” suggested Captain Warner. “I’ve done quite a bit of sailing in my time.”

  But, when he had taken a look through the window at which Tom had been standing, the naval officer descended, shaking his head.

  “There isn’t a landmark in sight,” he announced. “We might be over the middle of the Atlantic, for all I could tell.”

  “Hardly as far as that,” spoke Tom. “They haven’t been pushing the Mars at that speed. But we may be across to the other side before we realize it.”

  “How’s that?” asked Ned.

  “Well, the ship is in the possession of these foreign spies,” went on Tom. “All their interests are in Europe, though it would be hard to say what nationality is in command here. I think there are even some Englishmen among those who attacked us, as well as French, Germans, Italians and Russians.”

  “Yes, it seems to be a combination of European nations against us,” admitted Captain Warner. “Probably, after they have made good their seizure of Tom’s aerial warship, they will portion her out among themselves, or use her as a model from which to make others.”

  “Do you think that is their object?” asked Mr. Damon.

  “Undoubtedly,” was the captain’s answer. “It has been the object of these foreign spies, all along, not only to prevent the United States from enjoying the benefits of these progressive inventions, but to use them for themselves. They would stop at nothing to gain their ends. It seems we did not sufficiently appreciate their power and daring.”

  “Well, they’ve got us, at any rate,” observed Tom, “and they may take us and the ship to some far-off foreign country.”

  “If they don’t heave us overboard half-way there,” commented Ned, in rather gloomy tones.

  “Well, of course, there’s that possibility,” admitted Tom. “They are desperate characters.”