Tom Swift and His Undersea Search; Or, the Treasure on the Floor of the Atlantic
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CHAPTER X
STARTLING REVELATIONS
"Oh, Tom! And so you are really ready to start on that perilous trip!"exclaimed Mary Nestor, a little later that same evening, when Tomcalled at Mary's house in his speedy electric runabout, a car in whichhe had once made a sensational ride.
"Perilous? I don't know why you call it that!" exclaimed the younginventor.
"Didn't you tell me you were stuck in a mud bank away down under theriver and had hard work to get loose?" asked the young lady, as shemade a place for Tom on the sofa beside her.
"Oh, that! Why, that wasn't anything!" he declared.
"It would have been if you hadn't come up."
"Ah, but we did come up, Mary."
"Suppose you get in a similar position when you find the wreck of thePandora? You won't get up so easily, will you?"
"No. But there aren't any mud banks in that part of the Atlantic, so Ican't be stuck in one," answered Tom.
For some time Tom Swift and Mary talked of mutual friends andhappenings in which they were both interested. Mr. and Mrs. Nestorstepped into the room for a minute, to wish the young inventor goodluck on his voyage, and when they had gone out, promising to see Tombefore he left for the night, the latter remarked to Mary:
"Did your uncle ever find the oil-well papers and get his affairsstraightened out?"
"No," was the answer, "he never did. And we feel very sorry for him.Just think, he had a fortune in his grasp, and now it is slipping away."
"Just what happened?" asked Tom, hoping there might be some way inwhich he could aid Mary's uncle. Of course, Tom wanted to help Mary,and this was one of the ways.
"Well, I don't exactly understand it all," she replied. "Father saysI'll never have a head for business. But as nearly as I can tell, myuncle, Barton Keith, went into partnership with a man to prospect foroil in Texas. My uncle has been in that business before, and he wasvery successful. He supplied the working knowledge about oil wells, Ibelieve, and the other man put up the money. My uncle was to have ahalf share in whatever oil wells he located, and his partner suppliedthe cash for putting down the pipe, or whatever is done."
"I believe putting down a pipe is the proper term," said Tom.
"Well, anyhow," went on Mary, "my uncle spent many weary monthsprospecting in Texas. In fact, he made himself ill, being out in allsorts of weather, looking after the drilling. At last they struck oil,as I believe they call it. They drilled down until they brought in whatmy uncle called a 'gusher,' and there was a chance of him and hispartner getting rich."
"Why didn't he?" asked Tom. "A gusher, I believe, is one of the bestsort of oil wells. Why didn't your uncle clean up a fortune, to use aslang term?"
"Because he lost the papers showing that he had a right to half the oilwell," answered Mary. "At least my uncle thinks he lost them, but hewas so ill, directly after the well proved a success, that he says heisn't sure what happened. At any rate, his partner claims everythingand my uncle can do nothing. He has been hoping he might find thepapers somewhere, or that something would happen to prove the rights ofhis claim."
"And nothing has?" inquired Tom.
"Not yet. My father and mother have been trying to help him, and dadengaged a lawyer, but he says nothing can be done unless my unclerecovers the partnership and other papers. As it stands now, it is myuncle's word against the word of his partner, and both are equally goodin a court of law. But if Uncle Barton could find the documentseverything would come out all right. He could claim his half of the oilwell then."
"Is it still producing?" Tom questioned.
"Yes, better than ever. But that's all the good it does my uncle. He isill, discouraged, and despondent. All his fortune was eaten up inprospecting, and he depended on the gusher to make him rich again. Andnow, because of a rascally partner, he may be doomed to die a poor man.Of course we will always help him, but you know what it is to bedependent on relatives."
"I can imagine," conceded Tom. "It is tough luck! I wish I could help,and perhaps I can after I get back from this trip."
"The only way you or any one could help, would be to get back myuncle's missing papers," said Mary. "And as he himself isn't sure whatbecame of them, it seem hopeless."
"It does," Tom agreed. "But wait until I get back."
"I wish you weren't going," sighed Mary.
"So do I--more than a little," was Tom's remark. "I'm sorry I ever letMr. Damon persuade me to go into this deal with Dixwell Hardley!"
Mary sat bolt upright on the couch.
"What name did you say?" she cried.
"Dixwell Hardley," repeated Tom. "That's the name of the man who claimsto know where the wreck of the Pandora lies. He says she has twomillions or more in gold on board, and I'm to get half."
"Well!" exclaimed Mary, with spirit, "if you don't get any bigger shareout of the wreck than my uncle got out of the oil well, you won't bedoing so very nicely, Tom."
"What do you mean?" asked the young inventor. "What has the oil well todo with recovering gold from the wreck?"
"A good deal, I should say," answered the girl, "seeing that the sameman is mixed up in both."
"What same man?"
"Dixwell Hardley!"
"Is he the man who cheated your uncle?" cried Tom.
"I won't say that he cheated him," said Mary. "But Dixwell Hardley isthe man who furnished the money when my uncle went into partnershipwith him to locate oil wells in Texas. The oil wells were located, Mr.Hardley got his share, and my uncle got nothing. And just because hecan't prove there was a legal partnership! I hope you won't have thesame experience with Mr. Hardley, Tom."
"Whew!" whistled the young inventor. "This is news to me! I can say onething, though. Mr. Hardley doesn't take a dollar out of that wreckunless I get one to match it. I think I hold the best cards on thisdeal. But, Mary, are you sure it's the same man?"
"Pretty sure. Wait, I'll call my father and make certain," sheanswered, and as she went from the room to summon Mr. Nestor, Tom felta vague sense of uneasiness.