Chapter IX
The Bomb
Tom Swift and Mr. Titus withdrew a little way down the corridor, arounda bulkhead and out of sight of any one who might look out from thestateroom whence had come the appeal for help. But, at the same time,they could keep watch over it.
"I tell you Waddington is in there!" insisted Mr. Titus, hoarselywhispering.
"Well, perhaps he may be," admitted Tom. "But several times I have seenthe bearded man going in there, and it's only a single stateroom, forit's so marked on the deck plan."
"Waddington might be disguised with a false beard, Tom."
"Yes, he might. But did the man who just now looked out have a beard?"
"I couldn't tell, as I saw only the upper part of his face. But thosewere Waddington's shifty eyes, I'm positive."
"If Waddington were on board don't you suppose you would have seen himbefore this?"
"Not positively, no. If he and the bearded man are one and the samethat would account for it. But I haven't noticed the bearded man oncesince he came aboard in such a hurry."
"Nor have I, now that I come to think of it," Tom admitted. "However,there is an easy way to prove who is in there."
"How?"
"We'll knock on the door and go in."
"Perhaps he won't let us."
"He'll think it's the steward he called for. Come, you know Waddingtonbetter than I do. You knock and go in."
"I don't know Waddington very well," admitted the contractor. "I haveonly seen him a few times, but I am sure that was he. But what shall Ido when he sees I'm not the steward?"
"Tell him you have sent for one. I'll go with the message, so it willbe true enough. Even if you have only a momentary glance at him inclose quarters you ought to be able to tell whether or not he has on afalse beard, and whether or not it is Waddington."
Mr. Titus considered for a moment, and then he said:
"Yes, I guess that is a good plan. You go for the steward, Tom, andI'll see if I can get in that stateroom. But I'm sure I'm not mistaken.I'll find Waddington in there, perhaps in the person of the beardedman, disguised. Or else they are using a single stateroom as a doubleone." And while Tom went off down the pitching and rolling corridor tofind a steward, Mr. Titus, not without some apprehension, advanced toknock on the door of the suspect.
"If it is Waddington he'll know me at once, of course," thought thecontractor, "and there may be a row. Well, I can't help it. The successof my brother and myself depends on finishing that tunnel, and we can'thave Waddington, and those whose tool he is, interfering. Here goes!"
He tapped on the door, and a faint voice called:
"Come in!"
The contractor entered, and saw the bearded man lying in his berth.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" asked the contractor, bendingclose over the man. He wanted to see if the beard were false. Somewhatto his surprise the contractor saw that undoubtedly it was real.
"Steward, will you kindly get me--Oh, you're not the steward!" thebearded man exclaimed.
"No, my friend and I heard you call," replied the contractor. "He hasgone for the steward, who will be here soon. Can I do anything for youin the meanwhile?"
"No--not a thing!" was the rather snappish answer, and the man turnedhis face away. "I beg your pardon," he went on, as if conscious that hehad acted rudely, "but I am suffering very much. The steward knows justwhat I want. I have had these attacks before. I am a poor sailor. Ifyou will send the steward to me I will be obliged to you. He can fix meup."
"Very well," assented Mr. Titus. "But if there is anything I can do--"
At that moment footsteps and voices were heard in the corridor, and asthe door of the bearded man's stateroom was opened, Mr. Titus had aglimpse of Tom and one of the stewards.
"Yes, I'll look after him," the steward said "He's been this waybefore. Thank you, sir, for calling me."
"I guess the steward has been well tipped," thought Tom. As Mr. Tituscame out and the door was shut, the young inventor asked in a whisper,
"Well, was it he?"
The contractor shook his head.
"No," he answered. "I never was more surprised in my life. I felt sureit was Waddington in there, but it wasn't. That man's beard is real,and while he has a look like Waddington about the eyes and upper partof his face, the man is a stranger to me. That is I think so, but inspite of all that, I have a queer feeling that I have met him before."
"Where?" Tom inquired.
"That I can't say," and the tunnel contractor shook his head. "Whew!That was a bad one!" he exclaimed, as the steamer pitched and tossed inan alarming manner.
"Yes, the storm seems to be getting worse instead of better," agreedTom. "I hope none of the cargo shifts and comes banging up against mynew explosive. If it does, there'll be no more tunnel digging for anyof us."
"Better not mention the fact of the explosives on board," suggested Mr.Titus.
"I won't," promised Tom. "The passengers are frightened enough as itis. But I watched the powder being stored away. I guess it is safe."
The storm raged for two days before it began to die away. Meanwhile,nothing was seen, on deck or in the dining cabins, of the bearded man.
Tom and Mr. Titus made some guarded inquiries of the steward who hadattended the sick man, and from him learned that he was down on thepassenger list as Senor Pinto, from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. He wastraveling in the interests of a large firm of coffee importers of theUnited States, and was going to Lima.
"And there's no trace of Waddington?" asked Tom of Mr. Titus, as theywere discussing matters in their stateroom one day.
"Not a trace. He seems to have dropped out of sight, and I'm glad ofit."
"Perhaps Blakeson & Grinder have given up the fight against you."
"I wish they had, though I don't look for any such good luck. But I'mwilling to fight them, now that we have an even chance, thanks to yourexplosive."
The storm blew itself out. The Bellaconda "crossed the line," and therewas the usual horseplay among the sailors when Father Neptune cameaboard to hold court. Those who had never before been below the equatorwere made to undergo more or less of an initiation, being lathered andshaved, and then pushed backward into a canvas tank of water on deck.
While Tom enjoyed the voyage, with the possible exception of the storm,he was anxious, and so was Mr. Titus, for the time to come when theyshould get to the tunnel and try the effect of the new explosive. Mr.Damon found an elderly gentleman as fond of playing chess as was theeccentric man himself, and his days were fully occupied with castles,pawns, knights, kings, queens and so on. As for Koku he was taken incharge by the sailors and found life forward very agreeable.
Senor Pinto had recovered from his seasickness, the steward told Tomand Mr. Titus, but still he kept to his stateroom.
It was when the Bellaconda was within a day or two of Callao that awireless message was received for Mr. Titus. It was from his brother.The message read:
"Have information from New York office that rivals are after you. Lookout for explosive."
"What does that mean?" asked Tom.
"Well, I presume it means our rival contractors know we have a supplyof your new powder on board, and they may try to get it away from us."
"Why?" Tom demanded.
"To prevent our using it to complete the tunnel. In that case they'llget the secret of it to use for themselves, when the contract goes tothem by default. Can we do anything to protect the powder, Tom?"
"Well, I don't know that we'll need to while it's stowed away in thecargo. They can't get at it any more than we can, until the shipunloads. I guess it's safe enough. We'll just have to keep our eyesopen when it's taken out of the hold, though."
Tom and Mr. Titus, both of whom were fond of fresh air and exercise,had made it a practice to get up an hour before breakfast and take aconstitutional about the steamer deck. They did this as usual themorning after the wireless warning was received, and they were standingnear the port rail
, talking about this, when they heard a thud on thedeck behind them. Both turned quickly, and saw a round black objectrolling toward them. From the object projected what seemed to be ablack cord, and the end of this cord was glowing and smoking.
For a moment neither Tom nor Mr. Titus spoke. Then, as a slow motion ofthe ship rolled the round black thing toward Tom, he cried:
"It a bomb!"
He darted toward it, but Mr. Titus pulled him back.
"Run!" yelled the contractor.
Before either of them could do anything, a queer figure of an elderlygentleman stepped partly from behind a deck-house, and stooped over thesmoking object.
"Look out!" yelled Mr. Titus, crouching low. "That's an explosive bomb!Toss it overboard!"
Tom Swift and His Big Tunnel; Or, The Hidden City of the Andes Page 9
