The Tom Swift Megapack

by Victor Appleton

  “Yes. To do that and find Mr. Nestor,” said Tom. “We have plenty of work ahead of us. But let’s get nearer civilization and send some word to the folks at home. They’ll be getting worried.”

  “It doesn’t seem as if there was a way out of here without using an airship,” remarked Jackson.

  But he and Tom finally reached the seldom-used road which ran along the field that contained the lonely shack, and, following this, they reached a farmhouse about a mile farther on. Greatly to their relief, there was a telephone in the place. True it was only a party line, set up by some neighboring farmers for their own private use, but one of the subscribers, to whose home the private line ran, had a long distance instrument, and after a talk with him, this man promised Tom to call up Mr. Swift and acquaint him with the fact that his son and Jackson were all right, and would be home later.

  “And now,” said Tom, after thanking their temporary host, a farmer named Bloise, “can you tell us anything about an old cabin that stands back there?” and he indicated the location of the mysterious shack.

  “Well, yes, I can tell you a little about it, but not very much,” said Mr. Bloise. “It was built, some years ago, by a rich New Yorker, who bought up a lot of land around here for a game preserve. But it didn’t pan out. This cabin was only the start of what he was going to call a ‘hunting lodge,’ I believe it was. There was to be a big building on the same order, but it never was built.

  “Some say the fellow lost all his money in Wall Street, and others say the state wouldn’t let him make a game preserve here. However it was, the thing petered out, and the old shack hasn’t been used since.”

  “Oh, yes, it has!” exclaimed Tom. “We just came from there, and there are signs which show some one has been sleeping there and eating there.”

  “There has!” exclaimed the farmer. “Well, I didn’t know that.”

  “I did,” said his son, a young man about Tom’s age. “I meant to speak of it the other day. I saw an automobile turn into the old road that the men used when they built the shack. I thought it was kind of queer to see a touring car turn in there, and I meant to speak of it, but I forgot. Yes, some one has been at the old cabin lately.”

  “Do you know who they are?” asked Tom eagerly. “We are looking for a Mr. Nestor, who disappeared mysteriously about two weeks ago, and I just found his wallet there in the shack!”

  “You did!” exclaimed Mr. Bloise. “That’s queer! You relatives of this Mr. Nestor?” he asked.

  “Not exactly,” Tom answered. “Just very close friends.”

  “Well, it’s too bad about his being missing in that way,” went on the farmer. “I read about it in the paper, but I never suspected he was around here.”

  “Oh, we’re not sure that he was,” said Tom quickly. “Finding his wallet doesn’t prove that,” and he told the story of his own and Jackson’s appearance on the scene, to the no small wonder of the farmer and his family. Tom said nothing about the finding of the files, nor the evidence he deduced from them. That was another matter to be taken up later.

  “Who were in the auto you saw?” asked Tom of the farmer’s son. “Was Mr. Nestor in the car?”

  “I couldn’t be sure of that. There were two men in the machine, and they were both strangers to me. They were talking together, pretty earnestly, it seemed to me.”

  “One did not appear as if he was being taken away against his will, did he?” asked Tom.

  “No, I can’t say that he did,” was the answers “They looked to me, and acted like, business men looking over land, or something like that. They just turned in on the road that leads to the old hunting cabin, as we call it around here, and didn’t pay any attention to me. Then I forgot all about them.”

  “Neither of them could have been Mr. Nestor,” decided Tom. “At least it doesn’t seem as if he’d talk at all companionably to a man who had treated him as we think Mr. Nestor has been treated. I guess that clue isn’t going to amount to much.”

  “It may!” insisted Jackson. “They may have had Mr. Nestor in the car all the while—concealed in the back you know. We’ve got to find out more about these men and their auto, Tom.”

  “Well, yes, perhaps we have. But how?”

  “Station some one at the shack, or at the beginning of the private road. The men may come back.”

  “That’s so—they may. We’ll do that!” cried the young inventor. “We must tell the police and Mr. Nestor’s folks what we have learned. How can we get back to Shopton in a hurry?” he asked the farmer.

  “Well, I can drive you to the railroad station,” was the answer.

  “Thank you,” remarked Tom. “We’ll accept your offer. And as soon as we get back we must send some one from the shop to stand guard over the airship,” he added in an aside to Jackson. “Those file fellows may come back.”

  “That’s so, we can’t take any chances.”

  The farmer soon had his team at the door, and, after they had had a hasty but satisfying supper at the farmhouse, the son drove Tom and Jackson several miles to a railroad station, where they could catch a train for Shopton.

  In due season Tom’s home was reached. He intended to stop but a minute, to assure his father that everything was all right, and then get out his speedy runabout to go to see Mary, to tell her the news.

  But when Tom sought his father in the library, he was told that there was a visitor in the house.

  “Tom,” said his father, “this gentleman is from Washington. He wants to arrange for a government test of your silent airship. I told him I thought you were about ready for it.”

  “A government test!” cried Tom. “Why, I didn’t think the government even knew I was working on such an idea!” Tom was greatly surprised.

  CHAPTER XXIV

  IN THE MOONLIGHT

  With a reassuring smile the visitor from Washington looked at Tom Swift.

  “The government officials,” he said, “know more than some people give them credit for—especially in these war times. Our intelligence bureau and secret service has been much enlarged of late. But don’t be alarmed, Mr. Swift,” went on the caller, whose name was Mr. Blair Terrill. “Your secret is safe with the government, but I think the time is ripe to use it now—that is, if you have perfected it to a point where we can use it.”

  “Yes,” answered Tom slowly, “the invention is practically finished and it is a success, except for a few minor matters that will not take long to complete.

  “Our accident this afternoon had nothing to do with the efficiency of the silencer,” Tom went on. “It was deliberately damaged by some spy. I’ll take that up later. That I am interested to know how you heard of my Air Scout, as I call it.”

  “Well, we have agents, you know, watching all the inventors who have helped us in times past, and we haven’t forgotten your giant cannon or big searchlight. I might say, to end your curiosity and lull your suspicions, that your friend, Ned Newton, who has been doing such good Liberty Bond work, informed us of your progress on the silent motor.”

  “Oh, so it was Ned!” exclaimed Tom.

  “Yes. He told us the time was about ripe for us to make you an offer for your machine. I think we can use it to great advantage in scout work on the western front,” went on the agent, and he soon convinced Tom that when it came to a knowledge of airships, he had some very pertinent facts at his disposal.

  “When can you give me a test?” Mr. Terrill asked Tom.

  “As soon as I can get my craft back to the shop and fit on a new outer case. That won’t take long, as I have some spare ones. But I must help the Nestors,” he went on, speaking to his father. “I didn’t mention it over the wire,” he added, “but we’ve found in the cabin a clue to the missing man. I must tell Mary and her mother, and help them all I can.”

  “And allow me to help, too,” begged Mr. Terrill. “Since this affects you, Mr. Swift, and since you are, in a way, working for Uncle Sam, you must let him help you. This is the first I have heard o
f the missing gentleman, of whom your father just told me something, but you must allow me to help search for him. I will get the United States Secret Service at work.”

  “That will be fine!” cried Tom. “I wanted to get their aid, but I didn’t see how I could, as I knew they were too busy with army matters and tracing seditious alien enemies, to bother with private cases. I’m sure the Secret Service men can get trace of the persons responsible for the detention of Mr. Nestor, wherever he is.”

  “They’ll do their best,” said Mr. Terrill. “I’m a member of that body,” he went on, “and I’ll give my personal attention to the matter.”

  Then followed a busy time. Tom did not get to bed until nearly morning. For he had to arrange to send some of his men to guard the stranded airship, and then he went to see Mary and her mother, taking them the good news that the search for Mr. Nestor would be prosecuted with unprecedented vigor.

  “If it isn’t too late!” sadly said the missing man’s wife.

  “Oh, I’m sure it isn’t!” declared Tom.

  In addition to sending a guard to the airship, other men, some of them hastily summoned from the nearest federal agency, were sent to keep watch in the vicinity of the lonely cabin. They had orders to arrest whoever approached, and a relay of the men was provided, so that watch could be kept up night and day. Besides this, other men from the Secret Service began scouring the country around the locality of the cabin, seeking a trace of the two persons the farmer’s son had seen in the automobile.

  “If Mr. Nestor is to be found, they’ll find him!” declared Tom Swift.

  Mr. Damon, as might be expected, was very much excited and wrought up over all these happenings.

  “Bless my watch chain, Tom Swift!” cried the eccentric man, “but something is always happening to you. And to think I wasn’t along when this latest happened!”

  “Well, you can be in at the finish,” promised Tom, and it was strange how his promise was fulfilled.

  Meanwhile there was much to do. During the time the Secret Service men were busy looking up clues which might lead to the finding of Mr. Nestor and keeping watch in the vicinity of the hut, Tom had his airship brought back to the hangar, and a new silencer was attached. While this work was going on the place was guarded night and day by responsible men, so there was no chance for an enemy spy to get in and do further damage.

  An investigation was made of the Universal Flying Machine Company, but nothing could be proved to link them with the outrage. Gale and Ware were in Europe—ostensibly on government business, but it was said that if anything could be proved connecting them with the attempt made on Tom Swift’s craft, they would be deprived of all official contracts and punished.

  All this took time, and the waits were wearisome, particularly in the case of Mr. Nestor. No further trace of him was found, though every effort was made. Tom began to feel that his boast of his enemies having to get up early in the morning to get ahead of him, had been premature, to say the least.

  Tom Swift worked hard on his new Air Scout. He determined there would be nothing lacking when it came to the government test, and not only did he make sure that no enemy could tamper with his machine, but he took pains to see that no inherent defect would mar the test.

  Jackson and the other men helped to the best of their ability, and Mr. Swift suggested some improvements which were incorporated in the new machine.

  One of the puzzles the Secret Service men had to solve was that of the connection, if any, between the men who had to do with the missing Mr. Nestor and those who had damaged Tom’s airship by filing the muffler case so it was weakened and burst. That there was some connection Tom was certain, but he could not work it out, nor, so far, had the government men.

  At last the day came when the big government test was to be made. Tom had completed his Air Scout and had refined it to a point where even his critical judgment was satisfied. All that remained now was to give Mr. Terrill a chance to see how silently the big craft could fly, and to this end a flight was arranged.

  Tom had put the silencer on a larger machine than the one he and Jackson had used. It held three easily, and, on a pinch, four could be carried. Tom’s plan was to take Mr. Damon and Mr. Terrill, fly with them for some time in the air, and demonstrate how quiet his new craft was. Then, by contrast, a machine without the muffler and the new motor with its improved propellers would be flown, making as much noise as the usual craft did.

  “I only wish,” said Tom, as the time arrived for the official government test, “that Mary could be here to see it. She was the one who really started me on this idea, so to speak, as it was because I couldn’t talk to her that I decided to get up a silent motor.”

  But Mary Nestor was too grief-stricken over her missing father to come to the test, which was to take place late one afternoon, starting from the aerodrome of the Swift plant.

  “First,” said Tom, to Mr. Terrill, “I’ll show you how the machine works on the ground. I’ll run the motor while the plane is held down by means of ropes and blocks. Then we’ll go up in it.”

  “That suits me,” said the agent. “If it does all you say it will do, and as much as I believe it will do, Uncle Sam will be your debtor, Mr. Swift.”

  “Well, we’ll see,” said Tom with a smile.

  Preparations were made with the greatest care, and Tom went over every detail of the machine twice to make certain that, in spite of the precautions, no spy had done any hidden damage, that might be manifested at an inopportune moment. But everything seemed all right, and, finally, the motor was started, while Mr. Terrill, and some of his colleagues from the Army Aviation department looked on.

  “Contact!” cried Tom, as Jackson indicated that the compression had been made.

  The mechanic nodded, gave the big propeller blades a quarter turn and jumped back. In an instant the motor was operating, and the craft would have leaped forward and cleaved the air but for the holding ropes and blocks. Tom speeded the machinery up to almost the last notch, but those in the aerodrome hardly heard a sound. It was as though some great, silent dynamo were working.

  “Fine!”

  “Wonderful!”

  “Wouldn’t have believed it possible!”

  These were some of the comments of the government inspectors.

  “And now for the final test—that in the air,” said Mr. Terrill.

  Previous to this he and his colleagues had made a minute examination of the machinery, and had been shown the interior construction of the silencer by means of one built so that a sectional view could be had. Tom’s principles were pronounced fundamental and simple.

  “So simple, in fact, that it is a wonder no one thought of it before,” said a navy aviation expert. “It is the last word in aircraft construction—a silent motor that will not apprise the enemy of its approach! You have done wonders, Mr. Swift!”

  “I’d rather hear you say that after the air test,” replied Tom, with a laugh. “Are you ready, Mr. Terrill?”

  “Whenever you are.”

  “How about you, Mr. Damon?”

  “Oh, I’m always ready to go with you, Tom Swift. Bless my trench helmet, but you can’t sail any too soon for me!”

  There was a genial laugh at his impetuosity, and the three took their seats in the big craft. Once more the engine was started. It operated as silently as before, and the first good impressions were confirmed. Even as the machine moved along the ground, just previous to taking flight into the air, there was no noise, save the slight crunch made by the wheels. This, of course, would be obviated when Silent Sam was aloft.

  Up and up soared the great craft, with Tom at the engine and guide controls, while Mr. Terrill and Mr. Damon sat behind him, both eagerly watching. Mr. Terrill was there to find fault if he could, but he was glad he did not have to.

  “The machine works perfectly, Mr. Swift,” he said. “My report cannot be otherwise than favorable.”

  “We mustn’t be in too much of a hurry,” said Tom, wh
o had learned caution some time ago. “I want to sail around for several hours. Sometimes a machine will work well at first, but defects will develop when it is overheated. I’m going to do my best to make a noise with this new motor.”

  But it seemed impossible. The machinery worked perfectly, and though Silent Sam took his passengers high and low, in big circles and small ones, there was no appreciable noise from the motor. The passengers could converse as easily, and with as little effort, as in a balloon.

  “Of course that isn’t the prime requisite,” said Mr. Terrill, “but it is a good one. What we want is a machine that can sail over the enemy’s lines at night without being heard, and I think this one will do it—in fact, I’m sure it will. Of course the ability of the passengers to converse and not have to use the uncertain tube is a great advantage.”

  As Tom Swift sailed on and on, it became evident that the test was going to be a success. The afternoon passed, and it began to grow dark, but a glorious full moon came up.

  “Shall I take you down?” the young inventor asked Mr. Terrill.

  “Not quite yet. I thoroughly enjoy this, and it isn’t often I get a chance for a moonlight airship ride. Go a little lower, if you please, and we’ll see if we attract any attention from the inhabitants of the earth. We’ll see if they can possibly hear the machine, though I don’t see how they can.”

  And they did not. Tom piloted the machine over Shopton, sailing directly over the center of the town, where there was a big crowd walking about. Though the airship sailed only a few hundred feet above their heads, not a person was aware of it, since the craft’s lights were put out for this test.

  “That settles it,” said Mr. Terrill. “You have succeeded, Tom Swift!”

  But Tom was not yet satisfied. He wanted a longer test. Hardly knowing why he did it he sent the craft in the direction of Mary Nestor’s home. As he sailed across her lawn he saw, in the moonlight, that she and her mother were walking in the garden. They did not look up as the aircraft passed over their heads, and were totally unaware of its presence, unless they caught a glimpse of it as it flitted silently along, like some great bird of the night.