Tom Swift and His Air Scout; Or, Uncle Sam's Mastery of the Sky
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CHAPTER XXIII
THE GOVERNMENT TEST
For a moment Jackson thought Tom had discovered a clew to, or evidencesof, some crime. He had an unpleasant suspicion, for an instant, thatthere was blood on the files, and that it might prove to be the bloodof Mr. Nestor.
But the satisfaction that showed on Tom's face did not seem to indicatesuch dire possibilities as these.
"What is it?" asked Jackson, unable to guess at what Tom was lookingthrough the powerful glass. "What do you see?"
"Metal filings on the grooves of these files," said the young inventor."And, unless I'm greatly mistaken, the particles of filings are fromthe case of my aircraft silencer!"
"What!" cried the machinist. "Do you mean those are the files used inweakening the outer case of your new machine, so that it burst a littlewhile ago?"
"That's what I think," answered Tom. "I know it sounds prettyfar-fetched," he went on. "But take a look for yourself. If thoseparticles on, the files aren't exactly of the same color and texture asthe material of which the silencer case is made, I'll never buildanother machine."
Jackson peered through the powerful glass moving out a little fartherfrom the shack, so as to get the best light possible on the subject ofhis examination. It was fast getting dark, but there was enough glow inthe western sky for his purpose.
"Am I right?" asked Tom.
"You're right!" declared his helper. "This is exactly the same metal asthat of which your silencer case is made. It's a peculiar mixture ofaluminum and vanadium steel. I never knew it used in any shop butyours, and these filings are certainly of that metal. It would seem,Tom, that these were the files used to cut a crease in the case of yoursilencer to weaken it so it would burst."
"My idea exactly!" cried Tom. "The spy, who got into my shop in someundiscovered manner, did his work and then fled here to hide. He lefthis files behind. Mr. Nestor must have been here, either before orafter. No, I'll not say that, either. Finding his wallet here doesn'tprove that he was here. It might have been brought here by one of thespies and dropped. But I'm sure we're on the track of the men whodamaged my airship, as well as those who know something of the mysteryof Mr. Nestor."
"I agree with you," said Jackson. "Of course there's a possibility thatthe same peculiar metal you used in your silencer case may have beenused in some other machine shop, and these files may have come fromthere, and have been employed in perfectly regular work. But thechances are--"
"There's only one way to make sure," said Tom. "Let's take the fileswith us and see if they fit in the grooves where the break came. We'lltake these back to where we left the Air Scout," and he clinked thefiles he held.
"We can just about make it before it gets black dark," returnedJackson. "But that won't give us any more time to look around here,"and he indicated the hut.
"I fancy we've seen all there is to see here," said Tom. "Mr. Nestorisn't here, and whether he was or not is a question. Anyhow, some onewas here who had something to do with him after his disappearance, I'mpositive of that. And I'm sure some one was here who damaged myairship. Now we'll run down both those clews, find out who owns thisplace, who has been using it, and all we can along that line. So, ifyou're ready, let's travel."
The two set out to make their way back to where they had left thestranded airship. It was fast becoming dark, but they could hurry alongwith more speed now, as they did not have to stop to look for the marksof the peculiar automobile tires. They had noticed the path along whichthey had traveled, and in half the time they had spent coming they wereback where the Air Scout rested undisturbed in the meadow amid thetrees.
Making sure that, as far as they could tell, no one had visited thecraft since they had left it, Tom and Jackson compared the file markson what was left of the broken silencer case with the files they hadfound in the hut. They used a small, but powerful electric lamp to aidthem in this examination, as it was too dark to see otherwise, and whatthey saw caused the young inventor to exclaim:
"That settles it! These were the files used!"
"That's right!" agreed his assistant. "You've called the turn, Tom. Thenext thing to do is to find who connects with the files."
"Yes. To do that and find Mr. Nestor," said Tom. "We have plenty ofwork ahead of us. But let's get nearer civilization and send some wordto the folks at home. They'll be getting worried."
"It doesn't seem as if there was a way out of here without using anairship," remarked Jackson.
But he and Tom finally reached the seldom-used road which ran along thefield that contained the lonely shack, and, following this, theyreached 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, setup by some neighboring farmers for their own private use, but one ofthe subscribers, to whose home the private line ran, had a longdistance instrument, and after a talk with him, this man promised Tomto call up Mr. Swift and acquaint him with the fact that his son andJackson were all right, and would be home later.
"And now," said Tom, after thanking their temporary host, a farmernamed Bloise, "can you tell us anything about an old cabin that standsback there?" and he indicated the location of the mysterious shack.
"Well, yes, I can tell you a little about it, but not very much," saidMr. Bloise. "It was built, some years ago, by a rich New Yorker, whobought up a lot of land around here for a game preserve. But it didn'tpan 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 onthe same order, but it never was built.
"Some say the fellow lost all his money in Wall Street, and others saythe 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 thereare 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 speakof it the other day. I saw an automobile turn into the old road thatthe men used when they built the shack. I thought it was kind of queerto see a touring car turn in there, and I meant to speak of it, but Iforgot. Yes, some one has been at the old cabin lately."
"Do you know who they are?" asked Tom eagerly. "We are looking for aMr. Nestor, who disappeared mysteriously about two weeks ago, and Ijust found his wallet there in the shack!"
"You did!" exclaimed Mr. Bloise. "That's queer! You relatives of thisMr. 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 thefarmer. "I read about it in the paper, but I never suspected he wasaround here."
"Oh, we're not sure that he was," said Tom quickly. "Finding his walletdoesn't prove that," and he told the story of his own and Jackson'sappearance on the scene, to the no small wonder of the farmer and hisfamily. Tom said nothing about the finding of the files, nor theevidence he deduced from them. That was another matter to be taken uplater.
"Who were in the auto you saw?" asked Tom of the farmer's son. "WasMr. Nestor in the car?"
"I couldn't be sure of that. There were two men in the machine, andthey were both strangers to me. They were talking together, prettyearnestly, it seemed to me."
"One did not appear as if he was being taken away against his will, didhe?" asked Tom.
"No, I can't say that he did," was the answers "They looked to me, andacted like, business men looking over land, or something like that.They just turned in on the road that leads to the old hunting cabin, aswe call it around here, and didn't pay any attention to me. Then Iforgot all about them."
"Neither of them could have been Mr. Nestor," decided Tom. "At least itdoesn't seem as if he'd talk at all companionably to a man who hadtreated him as we think Mr. Nestor has been treated. I guess that clewisn't going to amount to much."
"It may!" insi
sted Jackson. "They may have had Mr. Nestor in the carall the while--concealed in the back you know. We've got to find outmore 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 privateroad. The men may come back."
"That's so--they may. We'll do that!" cried the young inventor. "Wemust tell the police and Mr. Nestor's folks what we have learned. Howcan 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 weget back we must send some one from the shop to stand guard over theairship," he added in an aside to Jackson. "Those file fellows may comeback."
"That's so, we can't take any chances."
The farmer soon had his team at the door, and, after they had had ahasty but satisfying supper at the farmhouse, the son drove Tom andJackson several miles to a railroad station, where they could catch atrain 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 outhis 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 therewas a visitor in the house.
"Tom," said his father, "this gentleman is from Washington. He wants toarrange for a government test of your silent airship. I told him Ithought you were about ready for it."
"A government test!" cried Tom. "Why, I didn't think the governmenteven knew I was working on such an idea!" Tom was greatly surprised.