Tom Swift and His War Tank; Or, Doing His Bit for Uncle Sam

by Victor Appleton

  Chapter XXI

  A Prisoner

  Amos Kanker came to the door of his farmhouse as Ned and Mr. Damondrove up in the runabout. There was an unpleasant grin on the not veryprepossessing face of the farmer, and what Ned thought was a cunninglook, as he slouched out and asked:

  "Well, what do you want? Come to smash up any more of my barns at threethousand dollars a smash?"

  "Hardly," answered Ned shortly. "Your prices are too high for suchramshackle barns as you have. Where's Tom Swift?" he asked sharply.

  "Huh! Do you mean that young whipper-snapper with his big tractionengine?" demanded Mr. Kanker.

  "Look here!" blustered Mr. Damon, "Tom Swift is neither awhipper-snapper nor is his machine a traction engine. It's a war tank."

  "That doesn't matter much to me," said the farmer, with a gratinglaugh. "It looks like a traction engine, though it smashes things upmore'n any one I ever saw."

  "That isn't the point," broke in Ned. "Where is my friend, Tom Swift?That's what we want to know."

  "Huh! What makes you think I can tell you?" demanded Kanker.

  "Didn't he come out here?" asked Mr. Damon.

  "Not as I knows of," was the surly answer.

  "Look here!" exclaimed Ned, and his tones were firm, with no blusternor bluff in them, "we came out here to find Tom Swift, and we're goingto find him! We have reason to believe he's here--at least, he startedfor here," he substituted, as he wished to make no statement he couldnot prove. "Now we don't claim we have any right to be on yourproperty, and we don't intend to stay here any longer than we can help.But we do claim the right, in common decency, to ask if you have seenanything of Tom. There may have been an accident; there may have beenfoul play; and there may be international complications in thisbusiness. If there are, those involved won't get off as easily as theythink. I'd advise you to keep a civil tongue in your head and answerour questions. If we have to get the police and detectives out here, aswell as the governmental department of justice, you may have to answertheir questions, and they won't be as decent to you as we are!"

  "Hurray!" whispered Mr Damon to Ned. "That's the way to talk!"

  And indeed the forceful remarks of the young bank clerk did appear tohave a salutary effect on the surly farmer. His manner changed at onceand his grin faded.

  "I don't know nothing about Tom Swift or any of your friends," he said."I've got my farm work to do, and I do it. It's hard enough to earn aliving these war times without taking part in plots. I haven't seen TomSwift since the trouble he made about my barn."

  "Then he hasn't been here to-day?" asked Ned.

  "No; and not for a good many days."

  Ned looked at Mr. Damon, and the two exchanged uneasy glances. Tom hadcertainly started for the Kanker farm, and indeed had come to within afew miles of it. That much was certain, as testified to by a number ofresidents along the route from Shopton, who had seen the young inventorpassing in his car.

  Now it appeared he had not arrived. The changed air of the farmerseemed to indicate that he was speaking the truth. Mr. Damon and Nedwere inclined to believe him. If they had any last, lingering doubts inthe matter, they were dispelled when Mr. Kanker said:

  "You can search the place if you like. I haven't any reason to feelfriendly toward you, but I certainly don't want to get into troublewith the Government. Look around all you like."

  "No, we'll take your word for it," said Ned, quickly concluding thatnow they had got the farmer where they wanted him, they could gain moreby an appearance of friendliness than by threats or harsh words. "Thenyou haven't seen him, either?"

  "Not a sign of him."

  "One thing more," went on Tom's chum, "and then we'll look farther.Weren't you induced by a man named Simpson, or one named Blakeson, tomake the demand of three thousand dollars' damage for your barn?"

  "No, it wasn't anybody of either of those names," admitted Mr. Kanker,evidently a bit put out by the question.

  "It was some one, though, wasn't it?" insisted Ned.

  "Waal, a man did come to me the day the barn was smashed, and justafore it happened, and said an all-fired big traction engine was headedthis way, and that a young feller who was half crazy was running it.This man--I don't know who he was, being a stranger to me--said if theengine ran into any of my property and did damages I should collect forit on the spot, or hold the machine.

  "Sure enough, that's what happened, and I did it. That man had an auto,and he brought me and some of my men out to the smashed barn. That'sall I know about it."

  "I thought some one put you up to it," commented Ned. "This was someof the gang's work," he went on to Mr. Damon. "They hoped to getpossession of Tom's tank long enough to find out some of the secrets.By having the Liberty Bonds, I fooled 'em."

  "That's what you did!" said Mr. Damon. "But what can we do now?"

  "I don't know," Ned was forced to admit. "But I should think we'dbetter go back to the last place where he was seen to pass in his auto,and try to get on his trail."

  Mr. Damon agreed that this was a wise plan, and, after a casual lookaround the farmhouse and other buildings on Kanker's place and findingnothing to arouse their suspicions, the two left in Ned's speedy littlemachine.

  "It is mighty queer!" remarked the young bank clerk, as they shot alongthe country road. "It isn't like Tom to get caught this way."

  "Maybe he isn't caught," suggested the other. "Tom has been in many atight place and gotten out, as you and I well know. Maybe it will bethe same now, though it does look suspicious, that fake message comingfrom you."

  "Not coming from me, you mean," corrected Ned. "Well, we'll do the bestwe can."

  They proceeded back to where they had last had a trace of Tom in hismachine, and there could only confirm what they had learned at first,namely, that the young inventor had departed in the direction of theKanker farm, after having filled his radiator with water, and chattingwith a farmer he knew.

  "Then this is where the trail divides," said Ned, as they went backover the road, coming to a point where the highway branched off. "If hewent this way, he went to Kanker's place, or he would be in the way ofgoing. He isn't there, it seems, and didn't go there."

  "If he took the other road, where would he go?" asked Mr. Damon.

  "Any one of a dozen places. I guess we'll have to follow the trail andmake all the inquiries we can."

  But from the point where the two roads branched, all trace of Tom Swiftwas lost. No one had seen him in his machine, though he was known tomore than one resident along the highway.

  "Well, what are we going to do?" asked Mr. Damon, after they hadtraveled some distance and had obtained no news.

  "Suppose we call up his home," suggested Ned, as they came to a countrystore where there was a telephone. "It may be he has returned. In thatcase, all our worry has gone for nothing."

  "I don't believe it has," said Mr. Damon. "But if we call up and ask ifTom is back it will show we haven't found him, and his father will bemore worried than ever."

  "We can ask the telephone girl, and tell her to keep quiet about it,"decided Ned; and this they did.

  But the answer that came back over the wire was discouraging. For Tomhad not returned, and there was no word from him. There was an urgentmessage for him, too, from government officials regarding the tank, thegirl reported.

  "Well, we've just got to find him--that's all!" declared Ned. "I guesswe'll have to make a regular search of it. I did hope we'd find him outat the Kanker farm. But since he isn't there, nor anywhere about, asfar as we can tell, we've got to try some other plan."

  "You mean notify the authorities?"--asked Mr. Damon.

  "Hardly that--yet. But I'll get some of Tom's friends who havemachines, and we'll start them out on the trail. In that way we cancover a lot of ground."

  Late that afternoon, and far into the night, a number of the friends ofTom and Ned went about the country in automobiles, seeking news of theyoung inventor. Mr. Swift became very anxious over the non-return ofhis s
on, and felt the authorities should be notified; but as all agreedthat the local police could not handle the matter and that it wouldhave to be put into the hands of the United States Secret Service, heconsented to wait for a while before doing this.

  All the next day the search was kept up, and Ned and Mr. Damon weregetting discouraged, not to say alarmed, when, most unexpectedly, theyreceived a clew.

  They had been traveling around the country on little-frequented roadsin the hope that perhaps Tom might have taken one and disabled hismachine so that he was unable to proceed.

  "Though in that case he could, and would, have sent word," said Ned.

  "Unless he's hurt," suggested Mr. Damon.

  "Well, maybe that is what's happened," Ned was saying, when theynoticed coming toward them a very much dilapidated automobile, drivenby a farmer, and on the seat beside him was a small, barefoot boy.

  "Which is the nearest road to Shopton?" asked the man, bringing hiswheezing machine to a stop.

  "Who are you looking for in Shopton?" asked Ned, while a strangefeeling came over him that, somehow or other, Tom was concerned in thequestion.

  "I'm looking for friends of a Tom Swift," was the answer.

  "Tom Swift? Where is he? What's happened to him?" cried Ned.

  "Bless my dyspepsia tablets!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Do you know wherehe is?"

  "Not exactly," answered the farmer; "but here's a note from some onethat signs himself 'Tom Swift,' and it says he's a prisoner!"