The Tom Swift Megapack

by Victor Appleton

  “No,” and Mr. Titus shook his head. “It isn’t a question of revolutions.”

  “But it’s something!” insisted Mr. Damon. “Bless my ink bottle! but it’s something. As soon as I mention Peru, Tom, you and Mr. Titus eye each other as if I’d said something dreadful. Out with it! What is it?”

  “It’s just—just a coincidence,” Tom said. “But go on, Mr. Damon. Finish what you have to say and then we’ll explain.”

  “Well, I guess I’ve told you all you need to know for the present. I went into this wholesale drug concern, hoping to make some money, but now, on account of the trouble down in Peru, we stand to lose considerable unless I can get back the cinchona concession.”

  “What does that mean?” Tom asked.

  “Well, it means that our concern secured from the Peruvian government the right to take this quinine-producing bark from the trees in a certain tropical section. But there has been a change in the government in the district where our men were working, and now the privilege, or concession, has been withdrawn. I’m going down to see if I can’t get it back. And I want you to go with me.”

  “And I came here for very nearly the same thing,” went on Mr. Titus. “That is where the coincidence comes in. It is strange that we should both appeal to Mr. Swift at the same time.”

  “Well, Tom’s a valuable helper!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “I know him of old, for I’ve been on many a trip with him.”

  “This is the first time I have had the pleasure of meeting him,” resumed the tunnel contractor, “but I have heard of him. I did not ask him to go to South America for us. I only wanted to get some superior explosive for my brother, who is in charge of driving the railroad tunnel through a spur of the Andes. I look after matters up North here, but I may have to go to Peru myself.

  “As I told Mr. Swift, I had read of his invention of the giant cannon and the special powder he used in it to send a projectile such a distance. The cannon is now mounted as one of the pieces of ordnance for the defense of the Panama Canal, is it not?” he asked Tom.

  The young inventor nodded in assent.

  “Having heard of you, and the wonderful explosive used in your big cannon,” the contractor went on, “I wrote to my brother that I would try and get some for him.

  “You see,” he resumed, “this is the situation. Back in the Andes Mountains, a couple of hundred miles east of Lima, the government is building a short railroad line to connect two others. If this is done it will mean that the products of Peru—quinine bark, coffee, cocoa, sugar, rubber, incense and gold can more easily be transported. But to connect the two railroad lines a big tunnel must be constructed.

  “My brother and I make a specialty of such work, and when we saw bids advertised for, our firm put in an estimate. There was some trouble with a rival firm, which also bid, but we secured the contract, and bound ourselves to have the tunnel finished within a certain time, or forfeit a large sum.

  “That was over a year ago. Since then our men, aided by the native Indians of Peru, have been tunneling the mountain, until, about a month back, we struck a snag.”

  “What sort of snag?” Tom asked.

  “A snag in the shape of extra hard rock,” replied the tunnel contractor. “Briefly, Paleozoic rocks make up the eastern part of the Andean Mountains in Peru, while the western range is formed of Mesozoic beds, volcanic ashes and lava of comparatively recent date. Near the coast the lower hills are composed of crystalline rocks, syenite and granite, with, here and there, a strata of sandstone or limestone. These are, undoubtedly, relics of the lower Cretaceous age, and we, or rather, my brother, states that he has found them covered with marine Tertiary deposits.

  “Now this Mesozoic band varies greatly. Porphyritic tuffs and massive limestone compose the western chain of the Andes above Lima, while in the Oroya Valley we find carbonaceous sandstones. Some of the tuffs may be of the Jurassic age, though the Cretaceous period is also largely represented.

  “Now while these different masses of rock formation offer hard enough problems to the tunnel digger, still we are more or less prepared to meet them, and we figured on a certain percentage of them. Up to the present time we have met with just about what we expected, but what we did not expect was something we came upon when the tunnel had been driven three miles into the mountain.”

  “What did you find?” asked Tom, who knew enough about geology to understand the terms used. Mr. Damon did not, however, and when Mr. Titus rolled off some of the technical words, the drug investor softly murmured such expressions as

  “Bless my thermometer! Bless my porous plaster!”

  “We found,” resumed Mr. Titus, “after we had bored for a considerable distance into the mountain, a mass of volcanic rock which is so hard that our best diamond drills are dulled in a short time, and the explosives we use merely shatter the face of the cutting, and give us hardly any progress at all.

  “It was after several trials, and when my brother found that he was making scarcely any progress, compared to the energy of his men and the blasting, that he wrote to me, explaining matters. I at once thought of you, Tom Swift, and your powerful explosive, for I had read about it.

  “Now then, will you sell us some of your powder—explosive or whatever you call it—Mr. Swift, or tell us where we can get it? We need it soon, for we are losing valuable time.”

  Mr. Titus paused to draw on a piece of paper a rough map of Peru, and the district where the tunnel was being constructed. He showed where the two railroad lines were, and where the new route would bring them together, the tunnel eliminating a big grade up which it would have been impossible to haul trains of any weight.

  “What do you say, Mr. Swift?” the contractor concluded. “Will you let us have some of your powder? Or, better still, will you come to Peru yourself? That would suit us immensely, for you could be right on the ground. And you could carry out your plan of going with your friend here,” and Mr. Titus nodded toward Mr. Damon. “That is, if you were thinking of going.”

  “Well, I was thinking of it,” Tom admitted. “Mr. Damon and I have been on so many trips together that it seems sort of natural for us to ‘team it.’ I have never been to Peru, and I should like to see the country. There is only one matter though, that bothers me.”

  “What is it?” asked Mr. Titus quickly. “If it is a question of money dismiss it from your mind. The Peruvian government is paying a large sum for this tunnel, and we stand to make considerable, even if we were the lowest bidders. We can afford to pay you well—that is, we shall be able to if we can complete the bore on time. That is what is bothering me now—the unexpected strata of hard rock we have met with, which seems impossible to blast. But I feel sure we can do it with the explosive used in your giant cannon.”

  “That is just the point!” Tom exclaimed. “I am not so sure my explosive would do.”

  “Why not?” the tunnel contractor asked. “It’s powerful enough; isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is powerful enough, but whether it will have the right effect on volcanic rock is hard to say. I should like to see a rock sample.”

  “I can telegraph to have some sent here to you,” said Mr. Titus eagerly. “Meantime, here is a description of it. I can read you that”; and, taking a letter from his pocket, he read to Tom a geological description of the hard rock.

  “Hum! Yes,” mused Tom, as he listened. “It seems to be of the nature of obsidian.”

  “Bless my watch chain!” cried Mr. Damon. “What’s that?”

  “Obsidian is a volcanic rock—a sort of combination of glass and flint for hardness,” Tom explained. “It is brittle, black in color, and the natives of the Admiralty Islands use it for tipping their spears with which they slay victims for their cannibalistic feasts.”

  “Bless my—bless my ear-drums!” gasped Mr. Damon. “Cannibals!”

  “Obsidian was also used by the ancient Mexicans to make knives and daggers,” Tom went on. “When Cortez conquered Mexico he found the priests cutting
the hearts from their living victims with knives made from this volcanic glass-like rock, known as obsidian. It may be that your brother has met with a vein of that in the tunnel,” Tom said to the contractor.

  “Possibly,” admitted Mr. Titus.

  “In that case,” Tom stated, “I may have to use a new kind of explosive. That used for my giant cannon would merely crumble the hard rock for a short distance.”

  “Then will you accept the contract, and help us out?” asked Mr. Titus eagerly. “We will pay you well. Will you come to Peru and look over the ground?”

  “And kill two birds with one stone, and come with me also?” put in Mr. Damon.

  Tom pondered for a moment. He was about to answer when the tunnel contractor, who was looking from the library window, suddenly jumped from his chair crying:

  “There he is again! Once more dogging me!”

  As he rushed from the room, Tom and Mr. Damon had a glimpse of a face at one of the low library windows—a face that had an evil look. It disappeared as Mr. Titus ran from the room.

  CHAPTER IV

  TOM’S EXPERIMENTS

  “Bless my looking glass, Tom, what does that mean?” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “That face!”

  “I don’t know,” answered the young inventor. “But the sight of some one looking in here seemed to disturb Mr. Titus. We must follow him.”

  “Perhaps he saw your giant Koku looking in,” suggested the odd, little man who blessed everything he could think of. “The sight of his face, to any one not knowing him, Tom, would be enough to cause fright.”

  “It wasn’t Koku who looked in the window,” said Tom, decidedly. “It was some stranger. Come on.”

  The young inventor and Mr. Damon hurried out after the tunnel contractor, who was running down the road that led in front of the Swift homestead.

  “He’s chasing some one, Tom,” called Mr. Damon.

  “Yes, I see he is. But who?”

  “I can’t see any one,” reported Mr. Damon, who had run down to the gate, at which his horse was still standing. Mr. Damon had washed the dirt from his hands and face, and was wearing one of Mr. Swift’s coats in place of his own split one.

  Tom joined the eccentric man and together they looked down the road after the running Mr. Titus. They were in half a mind to join him, when they saw him pull up short, raise his hands as though he had given over the pursuit, and turn back.

  “I guess he got away, whoever he was,” remarked Tom. “We’ll walk down and meet Mr. Titus, and ask him what it all means.”

  Shortly afterward they came up to the contractor, who was breathing heavily after his run, for he was evidently not used to such exercise.

  “I beg your pardon, Tom Swift, for leaving you and Mr. Damon in such a fashion,” said Mr. Titus, “but I had to act quickly or lose the chance of catching that rascal. As it was, he got away, but I think I gave him a scare, and he knows that I saw him. It will make him more cautious in the future.”

  “Who was it?” asked Tom.

  “Well, I didn’t have as close a look as I could have wished for,” the contractor said, as he walked back toward the house with Tom and Mr. Damon, “but I’m pretty sure the face that peered in at us through the library window was that of Isaac Waddington.”

  “And who is he, if it isn’t asking information that ought not be given out?” inquired Mr. Damon.

  “Oh, no, certainly. I can tell you,” said the contractor. “Only perhaps we had better wait until we get back to the house.

  “Since one of their men was seen lurking around here there may be others,” went on Mr. Titus, when the three were once more seated in the Swift library. “It is best to be on the safe side. The face I saw, I’m sure, was that of Waddington, who is a tool of Blakeson & Grinder, rival tunnel contractors. They put in a bid on this Andes tunnel, but we were lower in our figures by several thousand dollars, and the contract was awarded to us.

  “Blakeson & Grinder tried, by every means in their power, to get the job away from us. They even invoked the aid of some Peruvian revolutionists and politicians, but we held our ground and began the work. Since then they have had spies and emissaries on our trail, trying their best to make us fail in our work, so the Peruvian officials might abrogate the contract and give it to them.

  “But, so far, we’ve managed to come out ahead. This Waddington is a sort of spy, and I’ve found him dodging me several times of late. I suppose he wants to find out my plans so as to be ready to jump in the breach in case we fail.”

  “Do you think your rivals had anything to do with the difficulties you are now meeting with in digging the tunnel?” asked Mr. Damon. Mr. Titus shook his head.

  “The present difficulties are all of Nature’s doing,” he said. “It’s just the abnormally hard rock that is bothering us. Only for that we’d be all right, though we might have petty difficulties because of the mean acts of Blakeson & Grinder. But I don’t fear them.”

  “How do you think this Waddington, if it was he, knew you were coming here?” asked Tom.

  “I can only guess. My brother and I have had some correspondence regarding you, Tom Swift. That is, I announced my intention of coming to see you, and my brother wrote me to use my discretion. I wrote back that I would consult you.

  “Our main office is in New York, where we employ a large clerical and expert force. There is nothing to prevent one of our stenographers, for instance, turning traitor and giving copies of the letters of my brother and myself to our rivals.

  “Mind you, I don’t say this was done, and I don’t suspect any of our employees, but it would be an easy matter for any one to know my plans. I never thought of making a secret of them, or of my trip here. In some way Waddington found out about the last, and he must have followed me here. Then he sneaked up under the window, and tried to hear what we said.”

  “Do you think he did?” asked Tom.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. We took no pains to lower our voices. But, after all, he hasn’t learned much that he didn’t know before, if he knew I was coming here. He didn’t learn the secret of the explosive that must be used, and that is the vital thing. For I defy him, or any other contractor, to blast that hard rock with any known explosive. We’ve tried every kind on the market and we’ve failed. We’ll have to depend on you, Tom Swift, to help us out with some of your giant cannon powder.”

  “And I’m not sure that will work,” said the young inventor. “I think I’ll have to experiment and make a new explosive, if I conclude to go to Peru.”

  “Oh, you’ll go all right!” declared Mr. Titus with a smile. “I can see that you are eager for the adventures I am sure you’ll find there, and, besides, your friend here, Mr. Damon, needs you.”

  “That’s what I do, Tom!” exclaimed the odd man. “Bless my excursion ticket, but you must come!”

  “I’ll have to invent the new powder first,” Tom said.

  “That’s what I like to hear!” exclaimed Mr. Titus. “It shows you are thinking of coming with us.”

  Tom only smiled.

  “I am so anxious to get the proper explosive,” went on Mr. Titus, “that I would even purchase it from our rivals, Blakeson & Grinder, if I thought they had it. But I’m sure they have not, though they may think they can get it.

  “That may be the reason they are following me so closely. They may want to know just when we will fail, and have to give up the contract, and they may think they can step in and finish the work. But I don’t believe, without your help, Tom Swift, that they can blast that hard rock, and—”

  “Well, I’ll say this,” interrupted Tom, “first come, first served with me, other things being equal. You have applied to me and, like a lawyer, I won’t go over to the other side now. I consider myself retained by your firm, Mr. Titus, to invent some sort of explosive, and if I am successful I shall expect to be paid.”

  “Oh, of course!” cried the contractor eagerly.

  “Very good,” Tom went on. “You needn’t fear that I’
ll help the other fellows. Now to get down to business. I must see some samples of this rock in order to know what kind of explosive force is needed to rend it.”

  “I have some in New York,” went on the contractor. “I’ll have it sent to you at once. I would have brought it, only it is too heavy to carry easily, and I was not sure I could engage you.”

  “Did that fellow—Waddington, I believe you called him—get away from you?” asked Mr. Damon.

  “Clean away,” the contractor answered. “He was a better runner than I.”

  “It doesn’t matter much,” Tom said. “He didn’t hear anything that would benefit him, and I’ll give my men orders to be on the lookout for him. What sort of fellow is he, Mr. Titus?”

  The contractor described the eavesdropper, and Mr. Damon exclaimed:

  “Bless my turkey wish-bone! I’m sure I passed that chap when I was riding over to see you a while ago, Tom.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, on the highway. He inquired the way to your place. But there was nothing strange in that, since you employ a number of men, and I thought this one was coming to look for work. I can’t say I liked his appearance, though.”

  “No, he isn’t a very prepossessing individual,” commented Mr. Titus. “Well, now what’s the first thing to be done, Tom Swift?”

  “Get me some samples of the rock, so I can begin my experiments.”

  “I’ll do that. And now let us consider about going to Peru. For I’m sure you will be successful in your experiments, and will find for us just the powder or explosive we need.”

  “We can go together.” said Mr. Damon. “I shall certainly feel more at home in that wild country if I know Tom Swift is with me, and I will appreciate the help of you and your friends, Mr. Titus, in straightening out the tangles of our drug business.”

  “I’ll do all I can for you, Mr. Damon.”

  The three then talked at some length regarding possible plans. Tom sent out word to one of his men to keep a sharp watch around the house and grounds, against the possible return of Waddington, but nothing more was seen of him, at least for the time being.