Tom Swift and his Motor-CycleorFun and Adventures on the Road

by Victor Appleton

 CONTENTS

 I. A NARROW ESCAPE II. TOM OVERHEARS SOMETHING III. IN A SMASH-UP IV. TOM AND A MOTOR-CYCLE V. MR. SWIFT IS ALARMED VI. AN INTERVIEW IN THE DARK VII. OFF ON A SPIN VIII. SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS IX. A FRUITLESS PURSUIT X. OFF TO ALBANY XI. A VINDICTIVE TRAMP XII. THE MEN IN THE AUTO XIII. CAUGHT IN A STORM XIV. ATTACKED FROM BEHIND XV. A VAIN SEARCH. XVI. BACK HOME. XVII. MR. SWIFT IN DESPAIRXVIII. HAPPY HARRY AGAIN XIX. TOM ON A HUNT XX. ERADICATE SAWS WOOD XXI. ERADICATE GIVES A CLUE XXII. THE STRANGE MANSIONXXIII. TOM IS PURSUED XXIV. UNEXPECTED HELP XXV. THE CAPTURE--GOOD-BY

CHAPTER I. 

A NARROW ESCAPE

"That's the way to do it! Whoop her up, Andy! Shove the spark leverover, and turn on more gasolene! We'll make a record this trip. "

Two lads in the tonneau of a touring car, that was whirling along acountry road, leaned forward to speak to the one at the steeringwheel. The latter was a red-haired youth, with somewhat squintyeyes, and not a very pleasant face, but his companions seemed toregard him with much favor. Perhaps it was because they were ridingin his automobile. 

"Whoop her up, Andy!" added the lad on the seat beside the driver. "This is immense!"

"I rather thought you'd like it, " remarked Andy Foger, as he turnedthe car to avoid a stone in the road. "I'll make things hum aroundShopton!"

"You have made them hum already, Andy, " commented the lad besidehim. "My ears are ringing. Wow! There goes my cap!"

As the boy spoke, the breeze, created by the speed at which the carwas traveling, lifted off his cap, and sent it whirling to the rear. 

Andy Foger turned for an instant's glance behind. Then he opened thethrottle still wider, and exclaimed:

"Let it go, Sam. We can get another. I want to see what time I canmake to Mansburg! I want to break a record, if I can. "

"Look out, or you'll break something else!" cried a lad on the rearseat. "There's a fellow on a bicycle just ahead of us. Take care, Andy!"

"Let him look out for himself, " retorted Foger, as he bent lowerover the steering wheel, for the car was now going at a terrificrate. The youth on the bicycle was riding slowly along, and did notsee the approaching automobile until it was nearly upon him. Then, with a mean grin, Andy Foger pressed the rubber bulb of the hornwith sudden energy, sending out a series of alarming blasts. 

"It's Tom Swift!" cried Sam Snedecker. "Look out, or you'll run himdown!"

"Let him keep out of my way, " retorted Andy savagely. 

The youth on the wheel, with a sudden spurt of speed, tried to crossthe highway. He did manage to do it, but by such a narrow marginthat in very terror Andy Foger shut off the power, jammed down thebrakes and steered to one side. So suddenly was he obliged to swerveover that the ponderous machine skidded and went into the ditch atthe side of the road, where it brought up, tilting to one side. 

Tom Swift, his face rather pale from his narrow escape, leaped fromhis bicycle, and stood regarding the automobile. As for theoccupants of that machine, from Andy Foger, the owner, to the threecronies who were riding with him, they all looked very muchastonished. 

"Are we--is it damaged any, Andy?" asked Sam Snedecker. 

"I hope not, " growled Andy. "If my car's hurt it's Tom Swift'sfault!"

He leaped from his seat and made a hurried inspection of themachine. He found nothing the matter, though it was more from goodluck than good management. Then Andy turned and looked savagely atTom Swift. The latter, standing his wheel up against the fence, walked forward. 

"What do you mean by getting in the way like that?" demanded Andywith a scowl. "Don't you see that you nearly upset me?"

"Well, I like your nerve, Andy Foger!" cried Tom. "What do you meanby nearly running me down? Why didn't you sound your horn? Youautomobilists take too much for granted! You were going faster thanthe legal rate, anyhow!"

"I was, eh?" sneered Andy. 

"Yes, you were, and you know it. I'm the one to make a kick, notyou. You came pretty near hitting me. Me getting in your way! Iguess I've got some rights on the road!"

"Aw, go on!" growled Andy, for he could think of nothing else tosay. "Bicycles are a back number, anyhow. "

"It isn't so very long ago that you had one, " retorted Tom. "Firstyou fellows know, you'll be pulled in for speeding. "

"I guess we had better go slower, Andy, " advised Sam in a low voice. "I don't want to be arrested. "

"Leave this to me, " retorted Andy. "I'm running this tour. The nexttime you get in my way I'll run you down!" he threatened Tom. "Comeon, fellows, we're late now, and can't make a record run, all onaccount of him, " and Andy got back into the car, followed by hiscronies, who had hurriedly alighted after their thrilling stop. 

"If you try anything like this again you'll wish you hadn't, "declared Tom, and he watched the automobile party ride off. 

"Oh, forget it!" snapped back Andy, and he laughed, his companionsjoining. 

Tom Swift said nothing in reply. Slowly he remounted his wheel androde off, but his thoughts toward Andy Foger were not very pleasantones. Andy was the son of a wealthy man of the town, and his goodfortune in the matter of money seemed to have spoiled him, for hewas a bully and a coward. Several times he and Tom Swift hadclashed, for Andy was overbearing. But this was the first time Andyhad shown such a vindictive spirit. 

"He thinks he can run over everything since he got his new auto, "commented Tom aloud as he rode on. "He'll have a smash-up some day, if he isn't careful. He's too fond of speeding. I wonder where heand his crowd are going?"

Musing over his narrow escape Tom rode on, and was soon at his home, where he lived with his widowed father, Barton Swift, a wealthyinventor, and the latter's housekeeper, Mrs. Baggert. Approaching amachine shop, one of several built near his house by Mr. Swift, inwhich he conducted experiments and constructed apparatus. Tom wasmet by his parent. 

"What's the matter, Tom?" asked Mr. Swift. "You look as if somethinghad happened. "

"Something very nearly did, " answered the youth, and related hisexperience on the road. 

"Humph, " remarked the inventor; "your little pleasure-jaunt mighthave ended disastrously. I suppose Andy and his chums are off ontheir trip. I remember Mr. Foger speaking to me about it the otherday. He said Andy and some companions were going on a tour, to begone a week or more. Well, I'm glad it was no worse. But have youanything special to do, Tom?"

"No; I was just riding for pleasure, and if you want me to doanything, I'm ready. "

"Then I wish you'd take this letter to Mansburg for me. I want itregistered, and I don't wish to mail it in the Shopton post-office. It's too important, for it's about a valuable invention. "

"The new turbine motor, dad?"

"That's it. And on your way I wish you'd stop in Merton's machineshop and get some bolts he's making for me. "

"I will. Is that the letter?" and Tom extended his hand for amissive his father held. 

"Yes. Please be careful of it. It's to my lawyers in Washingtonregarding the final steps in getting a patent for the turbine. That's why I'm so particular about not wanting it mailed here. Several times before I have posted letters here, only to have theinformation contained in them leak out before my attorneys receivedthem. I do not want that to happen in this case. Another thing;don't speak about my new invention in Merton's shop when you stopfor the bolts. "

"Why, do you think he gave out information concerning your work?"

"Well, not exactly. He might not mean to, but he told me the otherday that some strangers were making inquiries of him, about whetherhe ever did any work for me. "

"What did he tell them?"

"He said that he occasionally did, but that most of my inventivework was done in my own shops, here. He wanted to know why the menwere asking such questions, and one of them said they expected toopen a machine shop soon, and wanted to ascertain if they mightfigure on getting any of my trade. But I don't believe that wastheir object. "

"What do you think it was?"

"I don't know, exactly, but I was somewhat alarmed when I heard thisfrom Merton. So I am going to take no risks. That's why I send thisletter to Mansburg. Don't lose it, and don't forget about the bolts. Here is a blue-print of them, so you can see if they come up to thespecifications. "

Tom rode off on his wheel, and was soon spinning down the road. 

"I wonder if I'll meet Andy Foger and his cronies again?" hethought. "Not very likely to, I guess, if they're off on a tour. Well, I'm just as well satisfied. He and I always seem to get intotrouble when we meet. " Tom was not destined to meet Andy again thatday, but the time was to come when the red-haired bully was to causeTom Swift no little trouble, and get him into danger besides. So Tomrode along, thinking over what his father had said to him about theletter he carried. 

Mr. Barton Swift was a natural inventor. From a boy he had beeninterested in things mechanical, and one of his first efforts hadbeen to arrange a system of pulleys, belts and gears so that thewindmill would operate the churn in the old farmhouse where he wasborn. The fact that the mill went so fast that it broke the churnall to pieces did not discourage him, and he at once set to work, changing the gears. His father had to buy a new churn, but the younginventor made his plan work on the second trial, and thereafter hismother found butter-making easy. 

From then on Barton Swift lived in a world of inventions. Peopleused to say he would never amount to anything, that inventors neverdid, but Mr. Swift proved them all wrong by amassing a considerablefortune out of his many patents. He grew up, married and had oneson, Tom. Mrs. Barton died when Tom was three years old, and sincethen he had lived with his father and a succession of nurses andhousekeepers. The last woman to have charge of the household was aMrs. Baggert, a motherly widow, and she succeeded so well, and Tomand his father formed such an attachment for her, that she wasregarded as a fixture, and had now been in charge ten years. 

Mr. Swift and his son lived in a handsome house on the outskirts ofthe village of Shopton, in New York State. The village was near alarge body of water, which I shall call Lake Carlopa, and there Tomand his father used to spend many pleasant days boating, for Tom andthe inventor were better chums than many boys are, and they wereoften seen together in a craft rowing about, or fishing. Of courseTom had some boy friends, but he went with his father more oftenthan he did with them. 

Though many of Mr. Swift's inventions paid him well, he wasconstantly seeking to perfect others. To this end he had built nearhis home several machine shops, with engines, lathes and apparatusfor various kinds of work. Tom, too, had the inventive fever in hisveins, and had planned some useful implements and small machines. 

Along the pleasant country roads on a fine day in April rode TomSwift on his way to Mansburg to register the letter. As he descendeda little hill he saw, some distance away, but coming toward him, agreat cloud of dust. 

"Somebody must be driving a herd of cattle along the road, " thoughtTom. "I hope they don't get in my way, or, rather, I hope I don'tget in theirs. Guess I'd better keep to one side, yet there isn'tany too much room. "

The dust-cloud came nearer. It was so dense that whoever or whateverwas making it could not be distinguished. 

"Must be a lot of cattle in that bunch, " mused the young inventor, "but I shouldn't think they'd trot them so on a warm day like this. Maybe they're stampeded. If they are I've got to look out. " Thisidea caused him some alarm. 

He tried to peer through the dust-cloud, but could not. Nearer andnearer it came. Tom kept on, taking care to get as far to the sideof the road as he could. Then from the midst of the enveloping masscame the sound of a steady "chug-chug. "

"It's a motor-cycle!" exclaimed Tom. "He must have his muffler wideopen, and that's kicking up as much dust as the wheels do. Whew! Butwhoever's on it will look like a clay image at the end of the line!"

Now that he knew it was a fellow-cyclist who was raising such adisturbance, Tom turned more toward the middle of the road. As yethe had not had a sight of the rider, but the explosions of the motorwere louder. Suddenly, when the first advancing particles of dustreached him, almost making him sneeze, Tom caught sight of therider. He was a man of middle age, and he was clinging to thehandle-bars of the machine. The motor was going at full speed. 

Tom quickly turned to one side, to avoid the worst of the dust. Themotor-cyclist glanced at the youth, but this act nearly proveddisastrous for him. He took his eyes from the road ahead for just amoment, and he did not see a large stone directly in his path. Hisfront wheel hit it, and the heavy machine, which he could notcontrol very well, skidded over toward the lad on the bicycle. Themotor-cyclist bounced up in the air from the saddle, and nearly losthis hold on the handle-bars. 

"Look out!" cried Tom. "You'll smash into me!"

"I'm--I'm--try--ing--not--to!" were the words that were rattled outof the middle-aged man. 

Tom gave his wheel a desperate twist to get out of the way. Themotor-cyclist tried to do the same, but the machine he was onappeared to want matters its own way. He came straight for Tom, anda disastrous collision might have resulted had not another stonebeen in the way. The front wheel hit this, and was swerved to oneside. The motor-cycle flashed past Tom, just grazing his wheel, andthen was lost to sight beyond in a cloud of dust that seemed tofollow it like a halo. 

"Why don't you learn to ride before you come out on the road!" criedTom somewhat angrily. 

Like an echo from the dust-cloud came floating back these words:

"I'm--try--ing--to!" Then the sound of the explosions becamefainter. 

"Well, he's got lots to learn yet!" exclaimed Tom. "That's twiceto-day I've nearly been run down. I expect I'd better look out for thethird time. They say that's always fatal, " and the lad leaped from hiswheel. "Wonder if he bent any of my spokes?" the young inventorcontinued as he inspected his bicycle. 

CHAPTER II. 

TOM OVERHEARS SOMETHING

"Everything seems to be all right, " Tom remarked, "but another inchor so and he'd have crashed into me. I wonder who he was? I wish Ihad a machine like that. I could make better time than I can on mybicycle. Perhaps I'll get one some day. Well, I might as well rideon. "

Tom was soon at Mansburg, and going to the post-office handed in theletter for registry. Bearing in mind his father's words, he lookedabout to see if there were any suspicious characters, but the onlyperson he noticed was a well-dressed man, with a black mustache, whoseemed to be intently studying the schedule of the arrival anddeparture of the mails. 

"Do you want the receipt for the registered, letter sent to you hereor at Shopton?" asked the clerk of Tom. "Come to think of it, though, it will have to come here, and you can call for it. I'llhave it returned to Mr. Barton Swift, care of general delivery, andyou can get it the next time you are over, " for the clerk knew Tom. 

"That will do, " answered our hero, and as he turned away from thewindow he saw that the man who had been inquiring about the mailswas regarding him curiously. Tom thought nothing of it at the time, but there came an occasion when he wished that he had taken morecareful note of the well-dressed individual. As the youth passed outof the outer door he saw the man walk over to the registry window. 

"He seems to have considerable mail business, " thought Tom, and thenthe matter passed from his mind as he mounted his wheel and hurriedto the machine shop. 

"Say, I'm awfully sorry, " announced Mr. Merton when Tom said he hadcome for the bolts, "but they're not quite done. They needpolishing. I know I promised them to your father to-day, and he canhave them, but he was very particular about the polish, and as oneof my best workers was taken sick, I'm a little behind. "

"How long will it take to polish them?" asked Tom. 

"Oh, about an hour. In fact, a man is working on them now. If youcould call this afternoon they'll be ready. Can you?"

"I s'pose I've got to, " replied Tom good-naturedly. "Guess I'll haveto stay in Mansburg for dinner. I can't get back to Shopton in timenow. "

"I'll be sure to have them for you after dinner, " promised Mr. Merton. "Now, there's a matter I want to speak to you about, Tom. Has your father any idea of giving the work he has been turning overto me to some other firm?"

"Not that I know of. Why?" and the lad showed his wonder. 

"Well, I'll tell you why. Some time ago there was a stranger inhere, asking about your father's work. I told Mr. Swift of it at thetime. The stranger said then that he and some others were thinkingof opening a machine shop, and he wanted to find out whether theywould be likely to get any jobs from your father. I told the man Iknew nothing about Mr. Swift's business, and he went away. I didn'thear any more of it, though of course I didn't want to lose yourfather's trade. Now a funny thing happened. Only this morning thesame man was back here, and he was making particular inquiries aboutyour father's private machine shops. "

"He was?" exclaimed Tom excitedly. 

"Yes. He wanted to know where they were located, how they were laidout, and what sort of work he did in them. "

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing at all. I suspected something, and I said the best way forhim to find out would be to go and see your father. Wasn't thatright?"

"Sure. Dad doesn't want his business known any more than he canhelp. What do you suppose they wanted?"

"Well, the man talked as though he and his partners would like tobuy your father's shops. "

"I don't believe he'd sell. He has them arranged just for his ownuse in making patents, and I'm sure he would not dispose of them. "

"Well, that's what I thought, but I didn't tell the man so. I judgedit would be best for him to find out for himself. "

"What was the man's name?"

"He didn't tell me, and I didn't ask him. "

"How did he look?"

"Well, he was well dressed, wore kid gloves and all that, and he hada little black mustache. "

Tom started, and Mr. Merton noticed it. 

"Do you know him?" he asked. 

"No, " replied Tom, "but I saw--" Then he stopped. He recalled theman he had seen in the post-office. He answered this description, but it was too vague to be certain. 

"Did you say you'd seen him?" asked Mr. Merton, regarding Tomcuriously. 

"No--yes--that is--well, I'll tell my father about it, " stammeredTom, who concluded that it would be best to say nothing of hissuspicions. "I'll be back right after dinner, Mr. Merton. Pleasehave the bolts ready for me, if you can. "

"I will. Is your father going to use them in a new machine?"

"Yes; dad is always making new machines, " answered the youth, as themost polite way of not giving the proprietor of the shop anyinformation. "I'll be back right after dinner, " he called as he wentout to get on his wheel. 

Tom was much puzzled. He felt certain that the man in the post-officeand the one who had questioned Mr. Merton were the same. 

"There is something going on, that dad should know about, " reflectedTom. "I must tell him. I don't believe it will be wise to send anymore of his patent work over to Merton. We must do it in the shopsat home, and dad and I will have to keep our eyes open. There may bespies about seeking to discover something about his new turbinemotor. I'll hurry back with those bolts and tell dad. But first Imust get lunch. I'll go to the restaurant and have a good feed whileI'm at it. "

Tom had plenty of spending money, some of which came from a smallpatent he had marketed himself. He left his wheel outside therestaurant, first taking the precaution to chain the wheels, andthen went inside. Tom was hungry and ordered a good meal. He wasabout half way through it when some one called his name. 

"Hello, Ned!" he answered, looking up to see a youth about his ownage. "Where did you blow in from?"

"Oh, I came over from Shopton this morning, " replied Ned Newton, taking a seat at the table with Tom. The two lads were chums, and intheir younger days had often gone fishing, swimming and huntingtogether. Now Ned worked in the Shopton bank, and Tom was so busyhelping his father, so they did not see each other so often. 

"On business or pleasure?" asked Tom, putting some more sugar in hiscoffee. 

"Business. I had to bring some papers over from our bank to theFirst National here. But what about you?"

"Oh, I came on dad's account. "

"Invented anything new?" asked Ned as he gave his order to thewaitress. 

"No, nothing since the egg-beater I was telling you about. But I'mworking on some things. "

"Why don't you invent an automobile or an airship?"

"Maybe I will some day, but, speaking of autos, did you see the oneAndy Foger has?"

"Yes; it's a beaut! Have you seen it?"

"Altogether at too close range. He nearly ran over me this morning, "and the young inventor related the occurrence. 

"Oh, Andy always was too fresh, " commented Ned; "and since hisfather let him get the touring car I suppose he'll be worse thanever. "

"Well, if he tries to run me down again he'll get into trouble, "declared Tom, calling for a second cup of coffee. 

The two chums began conversing on more congenial topics, and Ned wastelling of a new camera he had, when, from a table directly behindhim, Tom heard some one say in rather loud tones:

"The plant is located in Shopton, all right, and the buildings arenear Swift's house. "

Tom started, and listened more intently. 

"That will make it more difficult, " one man answered. "But if theinvention is as valuable as--"

"Hush!" came a caution from another of the party. "This is toopublic a place to discuss the matter. Wait until we get out. One ofus will have to see Swift, of course, and if he proves stubborn--"

"I guess you'd better hush yourself, " retorted the man who had firstspoken, and then the voices subsided. 

But Tom Swift had overheard something which made him vaguely afraid. He started so at the sound of his father's name that he knocked afork from the table. 

"What's the matter; getting nervous?" asked Ned with a laugh. 

"I guess so, " replied Tom, and when he stooped to pick the fork up, not waiting for the girl who was serving at his table, he stole alook at the strangers who had just entered. He was startled to notethat one of the men was the same he had seen in the post-office--theman who answered the description of the one who had been inquiringof Mr. Merton about the Swift shops. 

"I'm going to keep my ears open, " thought Tom as he went on eatinghis dinner. 

CHAPTER III. 

IN A SMASH-UP

Though the young inventor listened intently, in an endeavor to hearthe conversation of the men at the table behind him, all he couldcatch was an indistinct murmur. The strangers appeared to haveheeded the caution of one of their number and were speaking in lowtones. 

Tom and Ned finished their meal, and started to leave therestaurant. As Mr. Swift's son passed the table where the men satthey looked up quickly at him. Two of them gave Tom but a passingglance, but one--he whom the young inventor had noticed in thepost-office--stared long and intently. 

"I think he will know me the next time he sees me, " thought Tom, andhe boldly returned the glance of the stranger. 

The bolts were ready when the inventor's son called at the machineshop a second time, and making a package of them Tom fastened it tothe saddle of his bicycle. He started for home at a fast pace, andwas just turning from a cross road into the main highway when he sawahead of him a woman driving a light wagon. As the sun flashed onTom's shining wheel the horse gave a sudden leap, swerved to oneside, and then bolted down the dusty stretch, the woman screaming atthe top of her voice. 

"A runaway!" cried Tom; "and partly my fault, too!"

Waiting not an instant the lad bent over his handle-bars and pedaledwith all his force. His bicycle seemed fairly to leap forward afterthe galloping horse. 

"Sit still! Don't jump out! Don't jump!" yelled the young inventor. "I'll try to catch him!" for the woman was standing up in front ofthe seat and leaning forward, as if about to leap from the wagon. 

"She's lost her head, " thought Tom. "No wonder! That's a skittishhorse. "

Faster and faster he rode, bending all his energies to overtake theanimal. The wagon was swaying from side to side, and more than oncethe woman just saved herself from being thrown out by grasping theedge of the seat. She found that her standing position was adangerous one and crouched on the bottom of the swaying vehicle. 

"That's better!" shouted Tom, but it is doubtful if she heard him, for the rattling of the wagon and the hoofbeats of the horse drownedall other sounds. "Sit still!" he shouted. "I'll stop the horse foryou!"

Trying to imagine himself in a desperate race, in order to excitehimself to greater speed, Tom continued on. He was now even with thetail-board of the wagon, and slowly creeping up. The woman was allhuddled up in a lump. 

"Grab the reins! Grab the reins!" shouted Tom. "Saw on the bit! Thatwill stop him!"

The occupant of the wagon turned to look at the lad. Tom saw thatshe was a handsome young lady. "Grab the reins!" he cried again. "Pull hard!"

"I--I can't!" she answered frightenedly. "They have dropped down!Oh, do please stop the horse! I'm so--so frightened!"

"I'll stop him!" declared the youth firmly, and he set his teethhard. Then he saw the reason the fair driver could not grasp thelines. They had slipped over the dashboard and were trailing on theground. 

The horse was slacking speed a bit now, for the pace was telling onhis wind. Tom saw his opportunity, and with a sudden burst of energywas at the animal's head. Steering his wheel with one hand, with theother the lad made a grab for the reins near the bit. The horseswerved frightenedly to one side, but Tom swung in the samedirection. He grasped the leather and then, with a kick, he freedhimself from the bicycle, giving it a shove to one side. He was nowclinging to the reins with both hands, and, being a muscular lad andno lightweight, his bulk told. 

"Sit--still!" panted our hero to the young woman, who had arisen tothe seat. "I'll have him stopped in half a minute now!"

It was in less time than that, for the horse, finding it impossibleto shake off the grip of Tom, began to slow from a gallop to a trot, then to a canter, and finally to a slow walk. A moment later thehorse had stopped, breathing heavily from his run. 

"There, there, now!" spoke Tom soothingly. "You're all right, oldfellow. I hope you're not hurt"--this to the young lady--and Tommade a motion to raise his cap, only to find that it had blown off. 

"Oh, no--no; I'm more frightened than hurt. "

"It was all my fault, " declared the young inventor. "I should nothave swung into the road so suddenly. My bicycle alarmed yourhorse. "

"Oh, I fancy Dobbin is easily disturbed, " admitted the fair driver. "I can't thank you enough for stopping him. You saved me from a badaccident. "

"It was the least I could do. Are you all right now?" and he handedup the dangling reins. "I think Dobbin, as you call him, has hadenough of running, " went on Tom, for the horse was now quiet. 

"I hope so. Yes, I am all right. I trust your wheel is not damaged. If it is, my father, Mr. Amos Nestor, of Mansburg, will gladly payfor its repair. "

This reminded the young inventor of his bicycle, and making surethat the horse would not start up again, he went to where his wheeland his cap lay. He found that the only damage to the bicycle was afew bent spokes, and, straightening them and having again apologizedto the young woman, receiving in turn her pardon and thanks, andlearning that her name was Mary Nestor, Tom once more resumed histrip. The wagon followed him at a distance, the horse evincing nodesire now to get out of a slow amble. 

"Well, things are certainly happening to me to-day, " mused Tom as hepedaled on. "That might have been a serious runaway if there'd beenanything in the road. "

Tom did not stop to think that he had been mainly instrumental inpreventing a bad accident, as he had been the innocent cause ofstarting the runaway, but Tom was ever a modest lad. His arms werewrenched from jerking on the bridle, but he did not mind that much, and bent over the handle-bars to make up for lost time. 

Our hero was within a short distance of his house and was coastingeasily along when, just ahead of him, he saw a cloud of dust, verysimilar to the one that had, some time before, concealed theinexperienced motor-cyclist. 

"I wonder if that's him again?" thought Tom. "If it is I'm going tohang back until I see which way he's headed. No use running any morerisks. "

Almost at that moment a puff of wind blew some of the dust to oneside. Tom had a glimpse of the man on the puffing machine. 

"It's the same chap!" he exclaimed aloud; "and he's going the sameway I am. Well, I'll not try to catch up to him. I wonder what he'sbeen doing all this while, that he hasn't gotten any farther thanthis? Either he's been riding back and forth, or else he's beenresting. My, but he certainly is scooting along!"

The wind carried to Tom the sound of the explosions of the motor, and he could see the man clinging tightly to the handle-bars. Therider was almost in front of Tom's house now, when, with asuddenness that caused the lad to utter an exclamation of alarm, thestranger turned his machine right toward a big oak tree. 

"What's he up to?" cried Tom excitedly. "Does he think he can climbthat, or is he giving an exhibition by showing how close he can comeand not hit it?"

A moment later the motor-cyclist struck the tree a glancing blow. The man went flying over the handle-bars, the machine was shunted tothe ditch along the road, and falling over on one side the motorraced furiously. The rider lay in a heap at the foot of the tree. 

"My, that was a smash!" cried Tom. "He must be killed!" and bendingforward, he raced toward the scene of the accident. 

CHAPTER IV. 

TOM AND A MOTOR-CYCLE

When Tom reached the prostrate figure on the grass at the foot ofthe old oak tree, the youth bent quickly over the man. There was anugly cut on his head, and blood was flowing from it. But Tom quicklynoticed that the stranger was breathing, though not very strongly. 

"Well, he's not dead--just yet!" exclaimed the youth with a sigh ofrelief. "But I guess he's pretty badly hurt. I must get help--no, I'll take him into our house. It's not far. I'll call dad. "

Leaning his wheel against the tree Tom started for his home, aboutthree hundred feet away, and then he noticed that the stranger'smotor-cycle was running at full speed on the ground. 

"Guess I'd better shut off the power!" he exclaimed. "No use lettingthe machine be ruined. " Tom had a natural love for machinery, and ithurt him almost as much to see a piece of fine apparatus abused asit did to see an animal mistreated. It was the work of amoment to shut off the gasolene and spark, and then the youth racedon toward his house. 

"Where's dad?" he called to Mrs. Baggert, who was washing thedishes. 

"Out in one of the shops, " replied the housekeeper. "Why, Tom, " shewent on hurriedly as she saw how excited he was, "whatever hashappened?"

"Man hurt--out in front--motor-cycle smash--I'm going to bring himin here--get some things ready--I'll find dad!"

"Bless and save us!" cried Mrs. Baggert. "Whatever are we coming to?Who's hurt? How did it happen? Is he dead?"

"Haven't time to talk now!" answered Tom, rushing from the house. "Dad and I will bring him in here. "

Tom found his father in one of the three small machine shops on thegrounds about the Swift home. The youth hurriedly told what hadhappened. 

"Of course we'll bring him right in here!" assented Mr. Swift, putting aside the work upon which he was engaged. "Did you tell Mrs. Baggert?"

"Yes, and she's all excited. "

"Well, she can't help it, being a woman, I suppose. But we'llmanage. Do you know the man?"

"Never saw him before to-day, when he tried to run me down. Guess hedoesn't know much about motor-cycles. But come on, dad. He may bleedto death. "

Father and son hurried to where the stranger lay. As they bent overhim he opened his eyes and asked faintly:

"Where am I? What happened?"

"You're all right--in good hands, " said Mr. Swift. "Are you muchhurt?"

"Not much--mostly stunned, I guess. What happened?" he repeated. 

"You and your motor-cycle tried to climb a tree, " remarked Tom withgrim humor. 

"Oh, yes, I remember now. I couldn't seem to steer out of the way. And I couldn't shut off the power in time. Is the motor-cycle muchdamaged?"

"The front wheel is, " reported Tom, after an inspection, "and thereare some other breaks, but I guess--"

"I wish it was all smashed!" exclaimed the man vigorously. "I neverwant to see it again!"

"Why, don't you like it?" asked Tom eagerly. 

"No, and I never will, " the man spoke faintly but determinedly. 

"Never mind now, " interposed Mr. Swift. "Don't excite yourself. Myson and I will take you to our house and send for a doctor. "

"I'll bring the motor-cycle, after we've carried you in, " added Tom. 

"Don't worry about the machine. I never want to see it again!" wenton the man, rising to a sitting position. "It nearly killed me twiceto-day. I'll never ride again. "

"You'll feel differently after the doctor fixes you up, " said Mr. Swift with a smile. 

"Doctor! I don't need a doctor, " cried the stranger. "I am onlybruised and shaken up. "

"You have a bad cut on your head, " said Tom. 

"It isn't very deep, " went on the injured man, placing his fingerson it. "Fortunately I struck the tree a glancing blow. If you willallow me to rest in your house a little while and give me someplaster for the cut I shall be all right again. "

"Can you walk, or shall we carry you?" asked Tom's father. 

"Oh, I can walk, if you'll support me a little. " And the strangerproved that he could do this by getting to his feet and taking a fewsteps. Mr. Swift and his son took hold of his arms and led him tothe house. There he was placed on a lounge and given some simplerestoratives by Mrs. Baggert, who, when she found the accident wasnot serious, recovered her composure. 

"I must have been unconscious for a few minutes, " went on the man. 

"You were, " explained Tom. "When I got up to you I thought you weredead, until I saw you breathe. Then I shut off the power of yourmachine and ran in for dad. I've got the motor-cycle outside. Youcan't ride it for some time, I'm afraid, Mr. --er--" and Tom stoppedin some confusion, for he realized that he did not know the man'sname. 

"I beg your pardon for not introducing myself before, " went on thestranger. "I'm Wakefield Damon, of Waterfield. But don't worry aboutme riding that machine again. I never shall. "

"Oh, perhaps--" began Mr. Swift. 

"No, I never shall, " went on Mr. Damon positively. "My doctor toldme to get it, as he thought riding around the country would benefitmy health. I shall tell him his prescription nearly killed me. "

"And me too, " added Tom with a laugh. 

"How--why--are you the young man I nearly ran down this morning?"asked Mr. Damon, suddenly sitting up and looking at the youth. 

"I am, " answered our hero. 

"Bless my soul! So you are!" cried Mr. Damon. "I was wondering whoit could be. It's quite a coincidence. But I was in such a cloud ofdust I couldn't make out who it was. "

"You had your muffler open, and that made considerable dust, "explained Tom. 

"Was that it? Bless my existence! I thought something was wrong, butI couldn't tell what. I went over all the instructions in the bookand those the agent told me, but I couldn't think of the right one. I tried all sorts of things to make less dust, but I couldn't. Then, bless my eyelashes, if the machine didn't stop just after I nearlyran into you. I tinkered over it for an hour or more before I couldget it to going again. Then I ran into the tree. My doctor told methe machine would do my liver good, but, bless my happiness, I'd assoon be without a liver entirely as to do what I've done to-day. Iam done with motor-cycling!"

A hopeful look came over Tom's face, but he said nothing, that is, not just then. In a little while Mr. Damon felt so much better thathe said he would start for home. "I'm afraid you'll have to leaveyour machine here, " said Tom. 

"You can send for it any time you want to, " added Mr. Swift. 

"Bless my hatband!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, who appeared to be veryfond of blessing his various organs and his articles of wearingapparel. "Bless my hatband! I never want to see it again! If youwill be so kind as to keep it for me, I will send a junk man afterit. I will never spend anything on having it repaired. I am donewith that form of exercise--liver or no liver--doctor or no doctor. "

He appeared very determined. Tom quickly made up his mind. Mr. Damonhad gone to the bathroom to get rid of some of the mud on his handsand face. 

"Father, " said Tom earnestly, "may I buy that machine of him?"

"What? Buy a broken motor-cycle?"

"I can easily fix it. It is a fine make, and in good condition. Ican repair it. I've wanted a motor-cycle for some time, and here's achance to get a good one cheap. "

"You don't need to do that, " replied Mr. Swift. "You have moneyenough to buy a new one if you want it. I never knew you cared forthem. "

"I didn't, until lately. But I'd rather buy this one and fix it upthan get a new one. Besides, I have an idea for a new kind oftransmission, and perhaps I can work it out on this machine. "

"Oh, well, if you want it for experimental purposes, I suppose itwill be as good as any. Go ahead, get it if you wish, but don't givetoo much for it. "

"I'll not. I fancy I can get it cheap. "

Mr. Damon returned to the living-room, where he had first beencarried. 

"I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me, " he said. "I might have lain there for hours. Bless my very existence! I havehad a very narrow escape. Hereafter when I see anyone on a motor-cycleI shall turn my head away. The memory will be too painful, " and hetouched the plaster that covered a cut on his head. 

"Mr. Damon, " said Tom quickly, "will you sell me that motor-cycle?"

"Bless my finger rings! Sell you that mass of junk?"

"It isn't all junk, " went on the young inventor. "I can easily fixit; though, of course, " he added prudently, "it will cost something. How much would you want for it?"

"Well, " replied Mr. Damon, "I paid two hundred and fifty dollarslast week. I have ridden a hundred miles on it. That is at the rateof two dollars and a half a mile--pretty expensive riding. But ifyou are in earnest I will let you have the machine for fiftydollars, and then I fear that I will be taking advantage of you. "

"I'll give you fifty dollars, " said Tom quickly, and Mr. Damonexclaimed:

"Bless my liver--that is, if I have one. Do you mean it?"

Tom nodded. "I'll fetch you the money right away, " he said, startingfor his room. He got the cash from a small safe he had arranged, which was fitted up with an ingenious burglar alarm, and was on hisway downstairs when he heard his father call out:

"Here! What do you want? Go away from that shop! No one is allowedthere!" and looking from an upper window, Tom saw his father runningtoward a stranger, who was just stepping inside the shop where Mr. Swift was constructing his turbine motor. Tom started as he saw thatthe stranger was the same black-mustached man whom he had noticed inthe post-office, and, later, in the restaurant at Mansburg. 

CHAPTER V. 

MR. SWIFT IS ALARMED

Stuffing the money which he intended to give to Mr. Damon in hispocket, Tom ran downstairs. As he passed through the living-room, intending to see what the disturbance was about, and, if necessary, aid his father, the owner of the broken motor-cycle exclaimed:

"What's the matter? What has happened? Bless my coat-tails, but isanything wrong?"

"I don't know, " answered Tom. "There is a stranger about the shop, and my father never allows that. I'll be back in a minute. "

"Take your time, " advised the somewhat eccentric Mr. Damon. "I findmy legs are a bit weaker than I suspected, and I will be glad torest a while longer. Bless my shoelaces, but don't hurry!"

Tom went into the rear yard, where the shops, in a small cluster ofbuildings, were located. He saw his father confronting the man withthe black mustache, and Mr. Swift was saying:

"What do you want? I allow no people to come in here unless I or myson invites them. Did you wish to see me?"

"Are you Mr. Barton Swift?" asked the man. 

"Yes, that is my name. "

"The inventor of the Swift safety lamp, and the turbine motor?"

At the mention of the motor Mr. Swift started. 

"I am the inventor of the safety lamp you mention, " he said stiffly, "but I must decline to talk about the motor. May I ask where youobtained your information concerning it?"

"Why, I am not at liberty to tell, " went on the man. "I called tosee if we could negotiate with you for the sale of it. Parties whomI represent--"

At that moment Tom plucked his father by the sleeve. 

"Dad, " whispered the youth, "I saw him in Mansburg. I think he isone of several who have been inquiring in Mr. Merton's shop aboutyou and your patents. I wouldn't have anything to do with him untilI found out more about him. "

"Is that so?" asked Mr. Swift quickly. Then, turning to thestranger, he said: "My son tells me--"

But Mr. Swift got no further, for at that moment the stranger caughtsight of Tom, whom he had not noticed before. 

"Ha!" exclaimed the man. "I have forgotten something--an importantengagement--will be back directly--will see you again, Mr. Swift--excusethe trouble I have put you to--I am in a great hurry, " and beforefather or son could stop him, had they any desire to, the manturned and walked quickly from the yard. 

Mr. Swift stood staring at him, and so did Tom. Then the inventorasked:

"Do you know that man? What about him, Tom? Why did he leave sohurriedly?"

"I don't know his name, " replied Tom, "but I am suspicious regardinghim, and I think he left because he suddenly recognized me. "Thereupon he told his father of seeing the man in the post-office, and hearing the talk of the same individual and two companions inthe restaurant. 

"And so you think they are up to some mischief, Tom?" asked theparent when the son had finished. 

"Well, I wouldn't go quite as far as that, but I think they areinterested in your patents, and you ought to know whether you wantthem to be, or not. "

"I most certainly do not--especially in the turbine motor. That ismy latest invention, and, I think, will prove very valuable. But, though I have not mentioned it before, I expect to have trouble withit. Soon after I perfected it, with the exception of some minordetails, I received word from a syndicate of rich men that I wasinfringing on a motor, the patent of which they controlled. "

"This surprised me for two reasons. One was because I did not knowthat any one knew I had invented the motor. I had kept the mattersecret, and I am at a loss to know how it leaked out. To prevent anyfurther information concerning my plans becoming public, I sent youto Mansburg to-day. But it seems that the precaution was of littleavail. Another matter of surprise was the information that I wasinfringing on the patent of some one else. I had a very carefulexamination made, and I found that the syndicate of rich men waswrong. I was not infringing. In fact, though the motor they have issomewhat like mine, there is one big difference--theirs does notwork, while mine does. Their patents are worthless. "

"Then what do you think is their object?"

"I think they want to get control of my invention of the turbinemotor, Tom. That is what has been worrying me lately. I know thesemen to be unscrupulous, and, with plenty of money, they may maketrouble for me. "

"But can't you fight them in the courts?"

"Yes, I could do that. It is not as if I was a poor man, but I donot like lawsuits. I want to live quietly and invent things. Idislike litigation. However, if they force it on me I will fight!"exclaimed Mr. Swift determinedly. 

"Do you think this man was one of the crowd of financiers?" askedTom. 

"It would be hard to say. I did not like his actions, and the factthat he sneaked in here, as if he was trying to get possession ofsome of my models or plans, makes it suspicious. "

"It certainly does, " agreed Tom. "Now, if we only knew his name wecould--"

He suddenly paused in his remark and sprang forward. He picked up anenvelope that had dropped where the stranger had been standing. 

"The man lost this from his pocket, dad, " said Tom eagerly. "It's atelegram. Shall we look at it?"

"I think we will be justified in protecting ourselves. Is theenvelope open?"

"Yes. "

"Then read the telegram. "

Tom drew out a folded yellow slip of paper. It was a short message. He read:

"'Anson Morse, Mansburg. See Swift to-day. Make offer. If notaccepted do the best you can. Spare no effort. Don't give plansaway. '"

"Is that all?" asked Mr. Swift. 

"All except the signature. "

"Who is the telegram signed by?"

"By Smeak & Katch, " answered Tom. 

"Those rascally lawyers!" exclaimed his father. "I was beginning tosuspect this. That is the firm which represents the syndicate ofwealthy men who are trying to get my turbine motor patents away fromme. Tom, we must be on our guard! They will wage a fierce fightagainst me, for they have sunk many thousands of dollars in aworthless machine, and are desperate. "

"We'll fight 'em!" cried Tom. "You and I, dad! We'll show 'em thatthe firm of Swift & Son is swift by name and swift by nature!"

"Good!" exclaimed the inventor. "I'm glad you feel that way aboutit, Tom. But we are going to have no easy task. Those men are richand unscrupulous. We shall have to be on guard constantly. Let mehave that telegram. It may come in useful. Now I must send word toReid & Crawford, my attorneys in Washington, to be on the lookout. Matters are coming to a curious pass. "

As Mr. Swift and his son started for the house, they met Mr. Damoncoming toward them. 

"Bless my very existence!" cried the eccentric man. "I was beginningto fear something had happened to you. I am glad that you are allright. I heard voices, and I imagined--"

"It's all right, " Mr. Swift reassured him. "There was a strangerabout my shop, and I never allow that. Do you feel well enough togo? If not we shall be glad to have you remain with us. We haveplenty of room. "

"Oh, thank you very much, but I must be going. I feel much better. Bless my gaiters, but I never will trust myself in even anautomobile again! I will renounce gasolene from now on. "

"That reminds me, " spoke Tom. "I have the money for the motor-cycle, "and he drew out the bills. "You are sure you will not regret yourbargain, Mr. Damon? The machine is new, and needs only slightrepairs. Fifty dollars is--"

"Tut, tut, young man! I feel as if I was getting the best of you. Bless my handkerchief! I hope you have no bad luck with it. "

"I'll try and be careful, " promised Tom with a smile as he handedover the money. "I am going to gear it differently and put someimprovements on it. Then I will use it instead of my bicycle. "

"It would have to be very much improved before I trusted myself onit again, " declared Mr. Damon. "Well, I appreciate what you havedone for me, and if at any time I can reciprocate the favor, I willonly be too glad to do so. Bless my soul, though, I hope I don'thave to rescue you from trying to climb a tree, " and with a laugh, which showed that he had fully recovered from his mishap, he shookhands with father and son and left. 

"A very nice man, Tom, " commented Mr. Swift. "Somewhat odd and outof the ordinary, but a very fine character, for all that. "

"That's what I say, " added the son. "Now, dad, you'll see mescooting around the country on a motor-cycle. I've always wantedone, and now I have a bargain. "

"Do you think you can repair it?"

"Of course, dad. I've done more difficult things than that. I'mgoing to take it apart now, and see what it needs. "

"Before you do that, Tom, I wish you would take a telegram to townfor me. I must wire my lawyers at once. "

"Dad looks worried, " thought Tom as he wheeled the broken motor-cycleinto a machine shop, where he did most of his work. "Well, I don'tblame him. But we'll get the best of those scoundrels yet!"

CHAPTER VI. 

AN INTERVIEW IN THE DARK

While Mr. Swift was writing the message he wished his son to take tothe village, the young mechanic inspected the motor-cycle he hadpurchased. Tom found that a few repairs would suffice to put it ingood shape, though an entire new front wheel would be needed. Themotor had not been damaged, as he ascertained by a test. Tom rodeinto town on his bicycle, and as he hurried along he noticed in thewest a bank of ugly-looking clouds that indicated a shower. 

"I'm in for a wetting before I get back, " he mused, and he increasedhis speed, reaching the telegraph office shortly before seveno'clock. 

"Think this storm will hold off until I get home?" asked Tom. 

"I'm afraid not, " answered the agent. "You'd better get a hustleon. "

Tom sprinted off. It was getting dark rapidly, and when he was abouta mile from home he felt several warm drops on his face. 

"Here it comes!" exclaimed the youth. "Now for a little more speed!"

Tom pressed harder on the pedals, too hard, in fact, for an instantlater something snapped, and the next he knew he was flying over thehandlebars of the bicycle. At the same time there was a metallic, clinking sound. 

"Chain's busted!" exclaimed the lad as he picked himself up out ofthe dust. "Well, wouldn't that jar you!" and he walked back towhere, in the dusk, he could dimly discern his wheel. 

The chain had come off the two sprockets and was lying to one side. Tom picked it up and ascertained by close observation that the screwand nut holding the two joining links together was lost. 

"Nice pickle!" he murmured. "How am I going to find it in all thisdust and darkness?" he asked himself disgustedly. "I'll carry anextra screw next time. No, I won't, either. I'll ride my motor-cyclenext time. Well, I may as well give a look around. I hate to walk, if I can fix it and ride. "

Tom had not spent more than two minutes looking about the dustyroad, with the aid of matches, for the screw, when the rain suddenlybegan falling in a hard shower. 

"Guess there's no use lingering here any longer, " he remarked. "I'llpush the wheel and run for home. "

He started down the road in the storm and darkness. The highway soonbecame a long puddle of mud, through which he splashed, finding itmore and more difficult every minute to push the bicycle in thethick, sticky clay. 

Above the roar of the wind and the swishing of the rain he heardanother sound. It was a steady "puff-puff, " and then the darknesswas cut by a glare of light. 

"An automobile, " said Tom aloud. "Guess I'd better get out of theway. "

He turned to one side, but the auto, instead of passing him when itgot to the place where he was, made a sudden stop. 

"Want a ride?" asked the chauffeur, peering out from the sidecurtains which somewhat protected him from the storm. Tom saw thatthe car was a large, touring one. "Can I give you a lift?" went onthe driver. 

"Well, I've got my bicycle with me, " explained the young inventor. "My chain's broken, and I've got a mile to go. "

"Jump up in back, " invited the man. "Leave your wheel here; I guessit will be safe. "

"Oh, I couldn't do that, " said Tom. "I don't mind walking. I'm wetthrough now, and I can't get much wetter. I'm much obliged, though. "

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can hardly take you and the bicycle, too, "continued the chauffeur. 

"Certainly not, " added a voice from the tonneau of the car. "Wecan't have a muddy bicycle in here. Who is that person, Simpson?"

"It's a young man, " answered the driver. 

"Is he acquainted around here?" went on the voice from the rear ofthe car. "Ask him if he is acquainted around here, Simpson. "

Tom was wondering where he had heard that voice before. He had avague notion that it was familiar. 

"Are you acquainted around here?" obediently asked the man at thewheel. 

"I live here, " replied Tom. 

"Ask him if he knows any one named Swift?" continued the voice fromthe tonneau, and the driver started to repeat it. 

"I heard him, " interrupted Tom. "Yes, I know a Mr. Swift;" but Tom, with a sudden resolve, and one he could hardly explain, decidedthat, for the present, he would not betray his own identity. 

"Ask him if Mr. Swift is an inventor. " Once more the unseen personspoke in the voice Tom was trying vainly to recall. 

"Yes, he is an inventor, " was the youth's answer. 

"Do you know much about him? What are his habits? Does he live nearhis workshops? Does he keep many servants? Does he--"

The unseen questioner suddenly parted the side curtains and peeredout at Tom, who stood in the muddy road, close to the automobile. Atthat moment there came a bright flash of lightning, illuminating notonly Tom's face, but that of his questioner as well. And at thesight Tom started, no less than did the man. For Tom had recognizedhim as one of the three mysterious persons in the restaurant, and asfor the man, he had also recognized Tom. 

"Ah--er--um--is--Why, it's you, isn't it?" cried the questioner, andhe thrust his head farther out from between the curtains. "My, what astorm!" he exclaimed as the rain increased. "So you know Mr. Swift, eh? I saw you to-day in Mansburg, I think. I have a good memory forfaces. Do you work for Mr. Swift? If you do I may be able to--"

"I'm Tom Swift, son of Mr. Barton Swift, " said Tom as quietly as hecould. 

"Tom Swift! His son!" cried the man, and he seemed much agitated. "Why, I thought--that is, Morse said--Simpson, hurry back toMansburg!" and with that, taking no more notice of Tom, the man inthe auto hastily drew the curtains together. 

The chauffeur threw in the gears and swung the ponderous machine toone side. The road was wide, and he made the turn skilfully. Amoment later the car was speeding back the way it had come, leavingTom standing on the highway, alone in the mud and darkness, with therain pouring down in torrents. 

CHAPTER VII. 

OFF ON A SPIN

Tom's first impulse was to run after the automobile, the red tail-lightof which glowed through the blackness like a ruby eye. Then herealized that it was going from him at such a swift pace that itwould be impossible to get near it, even if his bicycle was inworking order. 

"But if I had my motor-cycle I'd catch up to them, " he murmured. "Asit is, I must hurry home and tell dad. This is another link in thequeer chain that seems to be winding around us. I wonder who thatman was, and what he wanted by asking so many personal questionsabout dad?"

Trundling his wheel before him, with the chain dangling from thehandle-bar, Tom splashed on through the mud and rain. It was alonesome, weary walk, tired as he was with the happenings of theday, and the young inventor breathed a sigh of thankfulness as thelights of his home shone out in the mist of the storm. As he trampedup the steps of the side porch, his wheel bumping along ahead ofhim, a door was thrown open. 

"Why, it's Tom!" exclaimed Mrs. Baggert. "Whatever happened to you?"and she hurried forward with kindly solicitude, for the housekeeperwas almost a second mother to the youth. 

"Chain broke, " answered the lad laconically. "Where's dad?"

"Out in the shop, working at his latest invention, I expect. But areyou hurt?"

"Oh, no. I fell easily. The mud was like a feather-bed, you know, except that it isn't so good for the clothes, " and the younginventor looked down at his splashed and bedraggled garments. 

Mr. Swift was very much surprised when Tom told him of the happeningon the road, and related the conversation and the subsequent alarmof the man on learning Tom's identity. 

"Who do you suppose he could have been?" asked Tom, when he hadfinished. 

"I am pretty certain he was one of that crowd of financiers of whomAnson Morse seems to be a representative, " said Mr. Swift. "Are yousure the man was one of those you saw in the restaurant?"

"Positive. I had a good look at him both times. Do you think heimagined he could come here and get possession of some of yoursecrets?"

"I hardly know what to think, Tom. But we will take everyprecaution. We will set the burglar alarm wires, which I haveneglected for some time, as I fancied everything would be securehere. Then I will take my plans and the model of the turbine motorinto the house. I'll run no chances to-night. "

Mr. Swift, who was adjusting some of the new bolts that Tom hadbrought home that day; began to gather up his tools and material. 

"I'll help you, dad, " said Tom, and he began connecting the burglaralarm wires, there being an elaborate system of them about thehouse, shops and grounds. 

Neither Tom nor his father slept well that night. Several times oneor the other of them arose, thinking they heard unusual noises, butit was only some disturbance caused by the storm, and morningarrived without anything unusual having taken place. The rain stillcontinued, and Tom, looking from his window and seeing the downpour, remarked:

"I'm glad of it!"

"Why?" asked his father, who was in the next room. 

"Because I'll have a good excuse for staying in and working on mymotor-cycle. "

"But you must do some studying, " declared Mr. Swift. "I will hearyou in mathematics right after breakfast. "

"All right, dad. I guess you'll find I have my lessons. "

Tom had graduated with honors from a local academy, and when it cameto a question of going further in his studies, he had elected tocontinue with his father for a tutor, instead of going to college. Mr. Swift was a very learned man, and this arrangement wassatisfactory to him, as it allowed Tom more time at home, so hecould aid his father on the inventive work and also plan things forhimself. Tom showed a taste for mechanics, and his father wiselydecided that such training as his son needed could be given at hometo better advantage than in a school or college. 

Lessons over, Tom hurried to his own particular shop, and begantaking apart the damaged motor-cycle. 

"First I'll straighten the handle-bars, and then I'll fix the motorand transmission, " he decided. "The front wheel I can buy in town, as this one would hardly pay for repairing. " Tom was soon busy withwrenches, hammers, pliers and screw-driver. He was in his element, and was whistling over his task. The motor he found in goodcondition, but it was not such an easy task as he had hoped tochange the transmission. He had finally to appeal to his father, inorder to get the right proportion between the back and front gears, for the motor-cycle was operated by a sprocket chain, instead of abelt drive, as is the case with some. 

Mr. Swift showed Tom how to figure out the number of teeth needed oneach sprocket, in order to get an increase of speed, and as therewas a sprocket wheel from a disused piece of machinery available, Tom took that. He soon had it in place, and then tried the motor. Tohis delight the number of revolutions of the rear wheel wereincreased about fifteen per cent. 

"I guess I'll make some speed, " he announced to his father. 

"But it will take more gasolene to run the motor; don't forget that. You know the great principle of mechanics--that you can't get out ofa machine any more than you put into it, nor quite as much, as amatter of fact, for considerable is lost through friction. "

"Well, then, I'll enlarge the gasolene tank, " declared Tom. "I wantto go fast when I'm going. "

He reassembled the machine, and after several hours of work had itin shape to run, except that a front wheel was lacking. 

"I think I'll go to town and get one, " he remarked. "The rain isn'tquite so hard now. "

In spite of his father's mild objections Tom went, using hisbicycle, the chain of which he had quickly repaired. He found justthe front wheel needed, and that night his motor-cycle was ready torun. But it was too dark to try it then, especially as he had nogood lantern, the one on the cycle having been smashed, and his ownbicycle light not being powerful enough. So he had to postpone histrial trip until the next day. 

He was up early the following morning, and went out for a spinbefore breakfast. He came back, with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, just as Mr. Swift and Mrs. Baggert were sitting down to the table. 

"To Reedville and back, " announced Tom proudly. 

"What, a round trip of thirty miles!" exclaimed Mr. Swift. 

"That's what!" declared his son. "I went like a greased pig most ofthe way. I had to slow up going through Mansburg, but the rest of attime I let it out for all it was worth. "

"You must be careful, " cautioned his father. "You are not an expertyet. "

"No, I realize that. Several times, when I wanted to slow up, Ibegan to back-pedal, forgetting that I wasn't on my bicycle. Then Ithought to shut off the power and put on the brake. But it'sglorious fun. I'm going out again as soon as I have something toeat. That is, unless you want me to help you, dad. "

"No, not this morning. Learn to ride the motor-cycle. It may come inhandy. "

Neither Tom nor his father realized what an important part themachine was soon to play in their lives. 

Tom went out for another spin after breakfast, and in a differentdirection. He wanted to see what the machine would do on a hill, andthere was a long, steep one about five miles from home. The roadswere in fine shape after the rain, and he speeded up the incline ata rapid rate. 

"It certainly does eat up the road, " the lad murmured. "I haveimproved this machine considerably. Wish I could take out a patenton it. "

Reaching the crest of the slope, he started down the incline. Heturned off part of the power, and was gliding along joyously, whenfrom a cross-road he suddenly saw turn into the main highway a mule, drawing a ramshackle wagon, loaded with fence posts. Beside theanimal walked an old colored man. 

"I hope he gets out of the way in time, " thought Tom. "He's movingas slow as molasses, and I'm going a bit faster than I like. GuessI'll shut off and put on the brakes. "

The mule and wagon were now squarely across the road. Tom was comingnearer and nearer. He turned the handle-grip, controlling the supplyof gasolene, and to his horror he found that it was stuck. He couldnot stop the motor-cycle!

"Look out! Look out!" cried Tom to the negro. "Get out of the way! Ican't stop! Let me pass you!"

The darky looked up. He saw the approaching machine, and he seemedto lose possession of his senses. 

"Whoa, Boomerang!" cried the negro. "Whoa! Suffin's gwine t'happen!"

"That's what!" muttered Tom desperately, as he saw that there wasnot room for him to pass without going into the ditch, a proceedingthat would mean an upset. "Pull out of the way!" he yelled again. 

But either the driver could not understand, or did not appreciatethe necessity. The mule stopped and reared up. The colored manhurried to the head of the animal to quiet it. 

"Whoa, Boomerang! Jest yo' stand still!" he said. 

Tom, with a great effort, managed to twist the grip and finally shutoff the gasolene. But it was too late. He struck the darky with thefront wheel. Fortunately the youth had managed to somewhat reducehis speed by a quick application of the brake, or the result mighthave been serious. As it was, the colored man was gently lifted awayfrom the mule's head and tossed into the long grass in the ditch. Tom, by a great effort, succeeded in maintaining his seat in thesaddle, and then, bringing the machine to a stop, he leaped off andturned back. 

The colored man was sitting up, looking dazed. 

"Whoa, Boomerang!" he murmured. "Suffin's happened!"

But the mule, who had quieted down, only waggled his ears lazily, and Tom, ready to laugh, now that he saw he had not committedmanslaughter, hurried to where the colored man was sitting. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS

"Are you hurt?" asked Tom as he leaned his motor-cycle against thefence and stood beside the negro. 

"Hurt?" repeated the darky. "I'se killed, dat's what I is! I ain'tgot a whole bone in mah body! Good landy, but I suttinly am in aawful state! Would yo' mind tellin' me if dat ar' mule am stillalive?"

"Of course he is, " answered Tom. "He isn't hurt a bit. But why can'tyou turn around and look for yourself?"

"No, sah! No, indeedy, sah!" replied the colored man. "Yo' doan'tcatch dis yeah nigger lookin' around!"

"Why not?"

"Why not? 'Cause I'll tell yo' why not. I'm so stiff an' I'm sonearly broke t' pieces, dat if I turn mah head around it suah willtwist offen mah body. No, sah! No, indeedy, sah, I ain't gwine t'turn 'round. But am yo' suah dat mah mule Boomerang ain't hurted?"

"No, he's not hurt a bit, and I'm sure you are not. I didn't strikeyou hard, for I had almost stopped my machine. Try to get up. I'mpositive you'll find yourself all right. I'm sorry it happened. "

"Oh, dat's all right. Doan't mind me, " went on the colored man. "Itwas mah fault fer gittin in de road. But dat mule Boomerang amsuttinly de most outrageous quadruped dat ever circumlocuted. "

"Why do you call him Boomerang?" asked Tom, wondering if the negroreally was hurt. 

"What fo' I call him Boomerang? Did yo' eber see dem Australianblack mans what go around wid a circus t'row dem crooked sticks deycalls boomerangs?"

"Yes, I've seen them. "

"Well, Boomerang, mah mule, am jest laik dat. He's crooked, t' beginwid, an' anudder t'ing, yo' can't never tell when yo' start him wharhe's gwine t' land up. Dat's why I calls him Boomerang. "

"I see. It's a very proper name. But why don't you try to get up?"

"Does yo' t'ink I can?"

"Sure. Try it. By the way, what's your name?"

"My name? Why I was christened Eradicate Andrew Jackson AbrahamLincoln Sampson, but folks most ginnerally calls me EradicateSampson, an' some doan't eben go to dat length. Dey jest calls meRad, fo' short. "

"Eradicate, " mused Tom. "That's a queer name, too. Why were youcalled that?"

"Well, yo' see I eradicates de dirt. I'm a cleaner an' a whitewasherby profession, an' somebody gib me dat name. Dey said it were fittenan' proper, an' I kept it eber sence. Yais, sah, I'se EradicateSampson, at yo' service. Yo' ain't got no chicken coops yo' wantscleaned out, has yo'? Or any stables or fences t' whitewash? Iguarantees satisfaction. "

"Well, I might find some work for you to do, " replied the younginventor, thinking this would be as good a means as any of placatingthe darky. "But come, now, try and see if you can't stand. I don'tbelieve I broke any of your legs. "

"I guess not. I feels better now. Where am dat work yo' was speakin'ob?" and Eradicate Sampson, now that there seemed to be a prospectof earning money, rose quickly and easily. 

"Why, you're all right!" exclaimed Tom, glad to find that theaccident had had no serious consequences. 

"Yais, sah, I guess I be. Whar did yo' say, yo' had somewhitewashin' t' do?"

"No place in particular, but there is always something that needsdoing at our house. If you call I'll give you a job. "

"Yais, sah, I'll be sure to call, " and Eradicate walked back towhere Boomerang was patiently waiting. 

Tom told the colored man how to find the Swift home, and wasdebating with himself whether he ought not to offer Eradicate somemoney as compensation for knocking him into the air, when he noticedthat the negro was tying one wheel of his wagon fast to the body ofthe vehicle with a rope. 

"What are you doing that for?" asked Tom. 

"Got to, t' git downhill wid dis load ob fence posts, " was theanswer. "Ef I didn't it would be right on to de heels ob Boomerang, an' wheneber he feels anyt'ing on his heels he does act wuss dan acircus mule. "

"But why don't you use your brake? I see you have one on the wagon. Use the brake to hold back going downhill. "

"'Scuse me, Mistah Swift, 'scuse me!" exclaimed Eradicate quickly. "But yo' doan't know dat brake. It's wuss dan none at all. It doan'twork, fer a fact. No, indeedy, sah. I'se got to rope de wheel. "

Tom was interested at once. He made an examination of the brake, andsoon saw why it would not hold the wheels. The foot lever was notproperly connected with the brake bar. It was a simple matter toadjust it by changing a single bolt, and this Tom did with tools hetook from the bag on his motor-cycle. The colored man looked on inopen-mouthed amazement, and even Boomerang peered lazily around, asif taking an interest in the proceedings. 

"There, " said Tom at length, as he tightened the nut. "That brakewill work now, and hold the wagon on any hill. You won't need torope the wheel. You didn't have the right leverage on it. "

"'Scuse me, Mistah Swift, but what's dat yo' said?" and Eradicateleaned forward to listen deferentially. 

"I said you didn't have the right leverage. "

"No, sah, Mistah Swift, 'scuse me, but yo' made a slight mistake. Iain't never had no liverage on dis yeah wagon. It ain't dat kind oba wagon. I onct drove a livery rig, but dat were some years ago. Iain't worked fo' de livery stable in some time now. Dat's why I knowdere ain't no livery on dis wagon. Yo'll 'scuse me, but yo' amslightly mistaken. "

"All right, " rejoined Tom with a laugh, not thinking it worth whileto explain what he meant by the lever force of the brake rod. "Letit go at that. Livery or no livery, your brake will work now. Iguess you're all right. Now don't forget to come around and do somewhitewashing, " and seeing that the colored man was able to mount tothe seat and start off Boomerang, who seemed to have deep-rootedobjections about moving, Tom wheeled his motor-cycle back to theroad. 

Eradicate Sampson drove his wagon a short distance and then suddenlyapplied the brake. It stopped short, and the mule looked around asif surprised. 

"It suah do work, Mistah Swift!" called the darky to Tom, who waswaiting the result of his little repair job. "It suah do work!"

"I'm glad of it. "

"Mah golly! But yo' am suttinly a conjure-man when it comes t'fixin' wagons! Did yo' eber work fer a blacksmith?"

"No, not exactly. Well, good-by, Eradicate. I'll look for you someday next week. "

With that Tom leaped on his machine and speeded off ahead of thecolored man and his rig. As he passed the load of fence posts theyouth heard Eradicate remark in awestricken tones:

"Mah golly! He suttinly go laik de wind! An' t' t'ink dat I were hitby dat monstrousness machine, an' not hurted! Mah golly! T'ings amsuttinly happenin'! G'lang, Boomerang!"

"This machine has more possibilities in it than I suspected, " musedTom. "But one thing I've got to change, and that is the gasolene andspark controls. I don't like them the way they are. I want a betterleverage, just as Eradicate needed on his wagon. I'll fix them, too, when I get home. "

He rode for several hours, until he thought it was about dinnertime, and then, heading the machine toward home, he put on all thespeed possible, soon arriving where his father was at work in theshop. 

"Well, how goes it?" asked Mr. Swift with a smile as he looked atthe flushed face of his son. 

"Fine, dad! I scooted along in great shape. Had an adventure, too. "

"You didn't meet any more of those men, did you? The men who aretrying to get my invention?" asked Mr. Swift apprehensively. 

"No, indeed, dad. I simply had a little run-in with a chap namedEradicate Andrew Jackson Abraham Lincoln Sampson, otherwise known asRad Sampson, and I engaged him to do some whitewashing for us. We doneed some white washing done, don't we, dad?"

"What's that?" asked Mr. Swift, thinking his son was joking. 

Then Tom told of the happening. 

"Yes, I think I can find some work for Eradicate to do, " went on Mr. Swift. "There is some dirt in the boiler shop that needseradicating, and I think he can do it. But dinner has been waitingsome time. We'll go in now, or Mrs. Baggert will be out after us. "

Father and son were soon at the table, and Tom was explaining whathe meant to do to improve his motor-cycle. His father offered somesuggestions regarding the placing of the gasolene lever. 

"I'd put it here, " he said, and with his pencil he began to draw adiagram on the white table cloth. 

"Oh, my goodness me, Mr. Swift!" exclaimed Mrs. Baggert. "Whateverare you doing?" and she sprang up in some alarm. 

"What's the matter? Did I upset my tea?" asked the inventorinnocently. 

"No; but you are soiling a clean tablecloth. Pencil-marks are sohard to get out. Take a piece of paper, please. "

"Oh, is that all?" rejoined Mr. Swift with a smile. "Well, Tom, hereis the way I would do that, " and substituting the back of anenvelope for the tablecloth, he continued the drawing. 

Tom was looking over his father's shoulder interestedly, when Mrs. Baggert, who was taking off some of the dinner dishes, suddenlyasked:

"Are you expecting a visitor, Mr. Swift?"

"A visitor? No. Why?" asked the inventor quickly. 

"Because I just saw a man going in the machine shop, " went on thehousekeeper. 

"A man! In the machine shop!" exclaimed Tom, rising from his chair. Mr. Swift also got up, and the two hurried from the house. As theyreached the yard they saw a man emerging from the building where Mr. Swift was constructing his turbine motor. The man had his backturned toward them and seemed to be sneaking around, as thoughdesirous of escaping observation. 

"What do you want?" called Mr. Swift. 

The man turned quickly. At the sight of Mr. Swift and Tom he made ajump to one side and got behind a big packing-box. 

"That's queer, " spoke Tom. "I wonder what he wants?"

"I'll soon see, " rejoined Mr. Swift, and he started on a run towardwhere the man was hiding. Tom followed his father, and as the twoinventors reached the box the man sprang from behind it and down theyard to a lane that passed in back of the Swift house. As he ran hewas seen to stuff some papers in his pocket. 

"My plans! He's stolen some of my plans!" cried Mr. Swift. "Catchhim, Tom!"

Tom ran after the stranger, whose curious actions had roused theirsuspicions, while Mr. Swift entered the motor shop to ascertainwhether anything had been stolen. 

CHAPTER IX. 

A FRUITLESS PURSUIT

Down through the yard Tom speeded, in and out among the buildings, looking on every side for a sight of the bold stranger. No one wasto be seen. 

"He can't be very far ahead. " thought Tom. "I ought to catch himbefore he gets to the woods. If he reaches there he has a goodchance of getting away. "

There was a little patch of trees just back of the inventor's house, not much of a woods, perhaps, but that is what they were called. 

"I wonder if he was some ordinary tramp, looking for what he couldsteal, or if he was one of the gang after dad's invention?" thoughtTom as he sprinted ahead. 

By this time the youth was clear of the group of buildings and insight of a tall, board fence, which surrounded the Swift estate onthree sides. Here and there, along the barrier, were piled oldpacking-cases, so that it would be easy for a fugitive to leap uponone of them and so get over the fence. Tom thought of thispossibility in a moment. 

"I guess he got over ahead of me, " the lad exclaimed, and he peeredsharply about. "I'll catch him on the other side!"

At that instant Tom tripped over a plank and went down full length, making quite a racket. When he picked himself up he was surprised tosee the man he was after dart from inside a big box and start forthe fence, near a point where there were some packing-cases piledup, making a good approach to the barrier. The fugitive had beenhiding, waiting for a chance to escape, and Tom's fall had alarmedhim. 

"Here! Hold on there! Come back!" cried the youth as he recoveredhis wind and leaped forward. 

But the man did not stay. With a bound he was up on the pile ofboxes, and the next moment he was poised on top of the fence. Beforeleaping down on the other side, a jump at which even a practicedathlete might well hesitate, the fleeing stranger paused and lookedback. Tom gazed at him and recognized the man in an instant. He wasthe third of the mysterious trio whom the lad had seen in theMansburg restaurant. 

"Wait a minute! What do you want sneaking around here?" shouted Tomas he ran forward. The man returned no answer, and an instant laterdisappeared from view on the other side of the fence. 

"He jumped down!" thought Tom. "A big leap, too. Well, I've got tofollow. This is a queer proceeding. First one, then the second, andnow the third of those men seem determined to get something here. Iwonder if this one succeeded? I'll soon find out. "

The lad was up on the pile of packing-cases and over the fence inalmost record time. He caught a glimpse of the fugitive runningtoward the woods. Then the boy leaped down, jarring himselfconsiderably, and took after the man. 

But though Tom was a good runner he was handicapped by the fact thatthe man had a start of him, and also by the fact that the strangerhad had a chance to rest while hiding for the second time in the bigbox, while Tom had kept on running. So it is no great cause forwonder that Mr. Swift's son found himself being distanced. 

Once, twice he called on the fleeing one to halt, but the man paidno attention, and did not even turn around. Then the youth wiselyconcluded to save his wind for running. He did his best, but waschagrined to see the man reach the woods ahead of him. 

"I've lost him now, " thought Tom. "Well, there's no help for it. "

Still he did not give up, but kept on through the patch of trees. Onthe farther side was Lake Carlopa, a broad and long sheet of water. 

"If he doesn't know the lake's there, " thought our hero, "he maykeep straight on. The water will be sure to stop him, and I cancatch him. But what will I do with him after I get him? That'sanother question. I guess I've got a right to demand to know what hewas doing around our place, though. "

But Tom need not have worried on this score. He could hear thefugitive ahead of him, and marked his progress by the crackling ofthe underbrush. 

"I'm almost up to him, " exulted the young inventor. Then, at thesame moment, he caught sight of the man running, and a glimpse ofthe sparkling water of Lake Carlopa. "I've got him! I've got him!"Tom almost cried aloud in his excitement. "Unless he takes to thewater and swims for it, I've got him!"

But Tom did not reckon on a very simple matter, and that was thepossibility of the man having a boat at hand. For this is just whathappened. Reaching the lake shore the fugitive with a final spurtmanaged to put considerable distance between himself and Tom. Drawnup on the beach was a little motor-boat. In this, after he hadpushed it from shore, the stranger leaped. It was the work of but asecond to set the engine in motion, and as Tom reached the edge ofthe woods and started across the narrow strip of sand and gravelthat was between the water and the trees, he saw the man steeringhis craft toward the middle of the lake. 

"Well--I'll--be--jiggered!" exclaimed the youth. "Who would havethought he'd have a motor-boat waiting for him? He planned thiswell. "

There was nothing to do but turn back. Tom had a small rowboat and asailing skiff on the lake, but his boathouse was some distance away, and even if he could get one of his craft out, the motor-boat wouldsoon distance it. 

"He's gone!" thought the searcher regretfully. 

The man in the motor-boat did not look back. He sat in the bow, steering the little craft right across the broadest part of LakeCarlopa. 

"I wonder where he came from, and where he's going?" mused Tom. "That's a boat I never saw on this lake before. It must be a newone. Well, there's no help for it, I've got to go back and tell dadI couldn't catch him. " And with a last look at the fugitive, who, with his boat, was becoming smaller and smaller every minute, Tomturned and retraced his steps. 

CHAPTER X. 

OFF TO ALBANY

"Did you catch him, Tom?" asked Mr. Swift eagerly when his sonreturned, but the inventor needed but a glance at the lad'sdespondent face to have his question answered without words, "Nevermind, " he added, "there's not much harm done, fortunately. "

"Did he get anything? Any of your plans or models, dad?"

"No; not as far as I can discover. My papers in the shop were notdisturbed, but it looked as if the turbine model had been moved. Theonly thing missing seems to be a sheet of unimportant calculations. Luckily I had my most valuable drawings in the safe in the house. "

"Yet that man seemed to be putting papers in his pocket, dad. Maybehe made copies of some of your drawings. "

"That's possible, Tom, and I admit it worries me. I can't imaginewho that man is, unless--"

"Why, he's one of the three men I saw in Mansburg in therestaurant, " said Tom eagerly. "Two of them tried to get informationhere, and now the third one comes. He got away in a motor-boat, " andTom told how the fugitive escaped. 

Mr. Swift looked worried. It was not the first time attempts hadbeen made to steal his inventions, but on this occasion a desperateand well-organized plan appeared to be on foot. 

"What do you think they are up to, dad?" asked Tom. 

"I think they are trying to get hold of my turbine motor, Tom. Youknow I told you that the financiers were disappointed in the turbinemotor they bought of another inventor. It does not work. To get backthe money they spent in building an expensive plant they must have amotor that is successful. Hence their efforts to get control ofmine. I don't know whether I told you or not, but some time ago Irefused a very good offer for certain rights in my invention. I knewit was worth more. The offer came through Smeak & Katch, thelawyers, and when I refused it they seemed much disappointed. Ithink now that this same firm, and the financiers who have employedthem, are trying by all the means in their power to get possessionof my ideas, if not the invention and model itself. "

"What can you do, dad?"

"Well, I must think. I certainly must take some means to protectmyself. I have had trouble before, but never any like this. I didnot think those men would be so unscrupulous. "

"Do you know their names?"

"No, only from that telegram we found; the one which the firststranger dropped. One of them must be Anson Morse. Who the othersare I don't know. But now I must make some plans to foil thesesharpers. I may have to call on you for help, Tom. "

"And I'll be ready any time you call on me, dad, " responded Tom, drawing himself up. "Can I do anything for you right away?"

"No; I must think out a plan. "

"Then I am going to change my motor-cycle a bit. I'll put some moreimprovements on it. "

"And I will write some letters to my lawyers in Washington and asktheir advice. " It took Tom the remainder of that day, and part ofthe next, to arrange the gasolene and spark control of his machineto his satisfaction. He had to make two small levers and someconnecting rods. This he did in his own particular machine shop, which was fitted up with a lathe and other apparatus. The lathe wasrun by power coming from a small engine, which was operated by anengineer, an elderly man to whom Mr. Swift had given employment formany years. He was Garret Jackson, and he kept so close to hisengine and boiler-room that he was seldom seen outside of it exceptwhen the day's work was done. 

One afternoon, a few days after the unsuccessful chase after thefugitive had taken place, Tom went out for a spin on hismotor-cycle. He found that the machine worked much better, and waseasier to control. He rode about fifteen miles away from home, andthen returned. As he entered the yard he saw, standing on the drive, aramshackle old wagon, drawn by a big mule, which seemed, at the timeTom observed him, to be asleep. 

"I'll wager that's Boomerang, " said Tom aloud, and the mule openedits eyes, wiggled its ears and started forward. 

"Whoa dar, Boomerang!" exclaimed a voice, and Eradicate Sampsonhurried around the corner of the house. "Dat's jest lake yo', " wenton the colored man. "Movin' when yo' ain't wanted to. " Then, as hecaught sight of Tom, he exclaimed, "Why, if it ain't young MistahSwift! Good lordy! But dat livery brake yo' done fixed on mah wagonsuttinly am fine. Ah kin go down de steepest hill widout ropin' dewheel. "

"Glad of it, " replied Tom. "Did you come to do some work?"

"Yais, sah, I done did. I found I had some time t' spah, an' thinksI dere might be some whitewashin' I could do. Yo' see, I lib only'bout two mile from heah. "

"Well, I guess you can do a few jobs, " said Tom. "Wait here. "

He hunted up his father, and obtained permission to set Eradicate atwork cleaning out a chicken house and whitewashing it. The darky wassoon at work. A little later Tom passing saw him putting thewhitewash on thick. Eradicate stopped at the sight of Tom, and madesome curious motions. 

"What's the matter, Rad?" asked the young inventor. 

"Why, de whitewash done persist in runnin' down de bresh handle an'inter mah sleeve. I'm soakin' wet from it now, an' I has t' stopebery onct in a while 'case mah sleeve gits full. "

Tom saw what the trouble was. The white fluid did run down the longbrush handle in a small rivulet. Tom had once seen a little rubberdevice on a window-cleaning brush that worked well, and he decidedto try it for Eradicate. 

"Wait a minute, " Tom advised. "I think I can stop that for you. "

The colored man was very willing to take a rest, but it did not lastlong, for Tom was soon back at the chicken coop. He had a smallrubber disk, with a hole in the center, the size of the brushhandle. Slipping the disk over the wood, he pushed it about half wayalong, and then, handing the brush back to the negro, told him totry it that way. 

"Did yo' done put a charm on mah bresh?" asked Eradicate somewhatdoubtfully. 

"Yes, a sort of hoodoo charm. Try it now. "

The darky dipped his brush in the pail of whitewash, and then beganto spread the disinfectant on the sides of the coop near the top. The surplus fluid started to run down the handle, but, meeting thepiece of rubber, came no farther, and dripped off on the ground. Itdid not run down the sleeve of Eradicate. 

"Well, I 'clar t' goodness! That suttinly am a mighty fine charm!"cried the colored man. "Yo' suah am a pert gen'men, all right. Now Ikin work widout stoppin' t' empty mah sleeve ob lime juice eberyminute. I'se suttinly obliged t' yo'. "

"You're welcome, I'm sure, " replied Tom. "I think some day I'llinvent a machine for whitewashing, and then--"

"Doan't do dat! Doan't do dat!" begged Eradicate earnestly. "Dis, an' makin' dirt disappear, am de only perfessions I got. Doan't go'ventin' no machine, Mistah Swift. "

"All right. I'll wait until you get rich. "

"Ha, ha! Den yo' gwine t' wait a pow'ful long time, " chuckledEradicate as he went on with his whitewashing. 

Tom went into the house. He found his father busy with some papersat his desk. 

"Ah, it's you, is it, Tom?" asked the inventor, looking up. "I wasjust wishing you would come in. "

"What for, dad?"

"Well, I have quite an important mission for you. I want you to goon a journey. "

"A journey? Where?"

"To Albany. You see, I've been thinking over matters, and I havebeen in correspondence with my lawyers in regard to my turbinemotor. I must take measures to protect myself. You know I have notyet taken out a complete patent on the machine. I have not done sobecause I did not want to put my model on exhibition in Washington. I was afraid some of those unscrupulous men would take advantage ofme. Another point was that I had not perfected a certain device thatgoes on the motor. That objection is now removed, and I am ready tosend my model to Washington, and take out the complete patent. "

"But I thought you said you wanted me to go to Albany. "

"So I do. I will explain. I have just had a letter from Reid &Crawford, my Washington attorneys. Mr. Crawford, the junior memberof the firm, will be in Albany this week on some law business. Heagrees to receive my model and some papers there, and take them backto Washington with him. In this way they will be well protected. Yousee, I have to be on my guard, and if I send the model to Albany, instead of the national capital, I may throw the plotters off thetrack, for I feel that they are watching every move I make. As soonas you or I should start for Washington they would be on our trail. But you can go to Albany unsuspected. Mr. Crawford will wait for youthere. I want you to start day after to-morrow. "

"All right, dad. I can start now, if you say so. "

"No, there is no special need for haste. I have some matters toarrange. You might go to the station and inquire about trains to theState capital. "

"Am I going by train?"

"Certainly. How else could you go?"

There was a look of excitement in Tom's eyes. He had a sudden idea. 

"Dad, " he exclaimed, "why couldn't I go on my motor-cycle?"

"Your motor-cycle?"

"Yes. I could easily make the trip on it in one day. The roads aregood, and I would enjoy it. I can carry the model back of me on thesaddle. It is not very large. "

"Well, " said Mr. Swift slowly, for the idea was a new one to him, "Isuppose that part would be all right. But you have not had muchexperience riding a motor-cycle. Besides, you don't know the roads. "

"I can inquire. Will you let me go, dad?"

Mr. Swift appeared to hesitate. 

"It will be fine!" went on Tom. "I would enjoy the trip, and there'sanother thing. If we want to keep this matter secret the best planwould be to let me go on my machine. If those men are on the watch, they will not think that I have the model. They will think I'm justgoing for a pleasure jaunt. "

"There's something in that, " admitted Mr. Swift, and Tom, seeingthat his father was favorably inclined, renewed his arguments, untilthe inventor finally agreed. 

"It will be a great trip!" exclaimed Tom. "I'll go all over my machinenow, to see that it's in good shape. You get your papers and modelready, dad, and I'll take them to Albany for you. The motor-cycle willcome in handy. "

But had Tom only known the dangers ahead of him, and the risks hewas to run, he would not have whistled so light heartedly as he wentover every nut and bolt on his machine. 

Two days later, the valuable model, having been made into aconvenient package, and wrapped in water-proof paper, was fastenedback of the saddle on the motor-cycle. Tom carefully pinned in aninside pocket the papers which were to be handed to Mr. Crawford. Hewas to meet the lawyer at a hotel in Albany. 

"Now take care of yourself, Tom, " cautioned his father as he badehim good-by. "Don't try to make speed, as there is no special rush. And, above all, don't lose anything. "

"I'll not, dad, " and with a wave of his hand to Mr. Swift and thehousekeeper, who stood in the door to see him off, Tom jumped intothe saddle, started the machine, and then, after sufficient momentumhad been attained, he turned on the gasolene and set the sparklever. With rattles and bangs, which were quickly subdued by themuffler, the machine gathered speed. Tom was off for Albany. 

CHAPTER XI. 

A VINDICTIVE TRAMP

Though Tom's father had told him there was no necessity for anygreat speed, the young inventor could not resist the opportunity forpushing his machine to the limit. The road was a level one and ingood condition, so the motor-cycle fairly flew along. The day waspleasant, a warm sun shining overhead, and it was evident that earlysummer was crowding spring rather closely. 

"This is glorious!" exclaimed Tom aloud as he spun along. "I'm glad Ipersuaded dad to let me take this trip. It was a great idea. Wish NedNewton was along, though. He'd be company for me, but, as Ned wouldsay, there are two good reasons why he can't come. One is he has towork in the bank, and the other is that he has no motor-cycle. "

Tom swept past house after house along the road, heading in theopposite direction from that in which lay the town of Shopton andthe city of Mansburg. For several miles Tom's route would liethrough a country district. The first large town he would reachwould be Centreford. He planned to get lunch there, and he hadbrought a few sandwiches with him to eat along the road in case hebecame hungry before he reached the place. 

"I hope the package containing the model doesn't jar off, " mused thelad as he reached behind to make sure that the precious bundle wassafe. "Dad would be in a bad way if that should disappear. And thepapers, too. " He put his hand to his inner pocket to feel that theywere secure. Coming to a little down-grade, Tom shut off some of thepower, the new levers he had arranged to control the gasolene andspark working well. 

"I think I'll take the old wood road and pass through Pompville, "Tom decided, after covering another mile or two. He was approachinga division in the highway. "It's a bit sandy, " he went on, "and thegoing will be heavy, but it will be a good chance to test mymachine. Besides, I'll save five miles, and, while I don't have tohurry, I may need time on the other end. I'd rather arrive in Albanya little before dusk than after dark. I can deliver the model andpapers and have a good night's sleep before starting back. So theold wood road it will be. "

The wood road, as Tom called it, was a seldom used highway, which, originally, was laid out for just what the name indicated, to bringwood from the forest. With the disappearance of most of the treesthe road became more used for ordinary traffic between the towns ofPompville and Edgefield. But when the State built a new highwayconnecting these two places the old road fell into disuse, though itwas several miles shorter than the new turnpike. 

He turned from the main thoroughfare, and was soon spinning alongthe sandy stretch, which was shaded with trees that in some placesmet overhead, forming a leafy arch. It was cool and pleasant, andTom liked it. 

"It isn't as bad as I thought, " he remarked. "The sand is prettythick, but this machine of mine appears to be able to crawl throughit. "

Indeed, the motor-cycle was doing remarkably well, but Tom foundthat he had to turn on full power, for the big rubber wheels wentdeep into the soft soil. Along Tom rode, picking out the firmestplaces in the road. He was so intent on this that he did not paymuch attention to what was immediately ahead of him, knowing that hewas not very likely to meet other vehicles or pedestrians. He wasconsiderably startled therefore when, as he went around a turn inthe highway where the bushes grew thick, right down to the edge ofthe road, to see a figure emerge from the underbrush and startacross the path. So quickly did the man appear that Tom was almostupon him in an instant, and even though the young inventor shut offthe power and applied the brake, the front wheel hit the man andknocked him down. 

"What's the matter with you? What are you trying to do--kill me? Whydon't you ring a bell or blow a horn when you're coming?" The man hadsprung up from the soft sand where the wheel from the motor-cycle hadsent him and faced Tom angrily. Then the rider, who had quicklydismounted, saw that his victim was a ragged tramp. 

"I'm sorry, " began Tom. "You came out of the bushes so quickly thatI didn't have a chance to warn you. Did I hurt you much?"

"Well, youse might have. 'Tain't your fault dat youse didn't, " andthe tramp began to brush the dirt from his ragged coat. Tom wasinstantly struck by a curious fact. The tramp in his second remarksused language more in keeping with his character, whereas, in hisfirst surprise and anger, he had talked much as any other personwould. "Youse fellers ain't got no right t' ride dem machines likelightnin' along de roads, " the ragged chap went on, and he stillclung to the use of words and expressions current among hisfraternity. Tom wondered at it, and then, ascribing the use of thebetter language to the fright caused by being hit by the machine, the lad thought no more about it at the time. There was occasion, however, when he attached more meaning to it. 

"I'm very sorry, " went on Tom. "I'm sure I didn't mean to. You see, I was going quite slowly, and--"

"You call dat slow, when youse hit me an' knocked me down?" demandedthe tramp. "I'd oughter have youse arrested, dat's what, an' I wouldif dere was a cop handy. "

"I wasn't going at all fast, " said Tom, a little nettled that hisconciliatory words should be so rudely received. "If I had beengoing full speed I'd have knocked you fifty feet. "

"It's a good thing. Cracky, den I'm glad dat youse wasn't goin' likedat, " and the tramp seemed somewhat confused. This time Tom lookedat him more closely, for the change in his language had been veryplain. The fellow seemed uneasy, and turned his face away. As he didso Tom caught a glimpse of what he was sure was a false beard. Itwas altogether too well-kept a beard to be a natural one for such adirty tramp as this one appeared to be. 

"That fellow's disguised!" Tom thought. "He's playing a part. Iwonder if I'd better take chances and spring it on him that I'm onto his game?"

Then the ragged man spoke again:

"I s'pose it was part my fault, cully. I didn't know dat any guy wascomin' along on one of dem buzz-machines, or I'd been more careful. I don't s'pose youse meant to upset me?" and he looked at Tom moreboldly. This time his words seemed so natural, and his beard, nowthat Tom took a second look at it, so much a part of himself, thatthe young inventor wondered if he could have been mistaken in hisfirst surmise. 

"Perhaps he was once a gentleman, and has turned tramp because ofhard luck, " thought Tom. "That would account for him using goodlanguage at times. Guess I'd better keep still. " Then to the tramphe said: "I'm sure I didn't mean to hit you. I admit I wasn'tlooking where I was going, but I never expected to meet any one onthis road. I certainly didn't expect to see a--"

He paused in some confusion. He was about to use the term "tramp, "and he hesitated, not knowing how it would be received by hisvictim. 

"Oh, dat's all right, cully. Call me a tramp--I know dat's whatyouse was goin' t' say. I'm used t' it. I've been a hobo so manyyears now dat I don't mind. De time was when I was a decent chap, though. But I'm a tramp now. Say, youse couldn't lend me a quarter, could youse?"

He approached closer to Tom, and looked quickly up and down theroad. The highway was deserted, nor was there any likelihood thatany one would come along. Tom was somewhat apprehensive, for thetramp was a burly specimen. The young inventor, however, was not somuch alarmed at the prospect of a personal encounter, as that hefeared he might be robbed, not only of his money, but the valuablepapers and model he carried. Even if the tramp was content withtaking his money, it would mean that Tom would have to go back homefor more, and so postpone his trip. 

So it was with no little alarm that he watched the ragged man comingnearer to him. Then a bright idea came into Tom's head. He quicklyshifted his position so that he brought the heavy motor-cyclebetween the man and himself. He resolved, if the tramp showed adisposition to attack him, to push the machine over on him, and thiswould give Tom a chance to attack the thief to better advantage. However, the "hobo" showed no evidence of wanting to resort tohighwayman methods. He paused a short distance from the machine, andsaid admiringly:

"Dat's a pretty shebang youse has. "

"Yes, it's very fair, " admitted Tom, who was not yet breathingeasily. 

"Kin youse go far on it?"

"Two hundred miles a day, easily. "

"Fer cats' sake! An' I can't make dat ridin' on de blind baggage;but dat's 'cause I gits put off so much. But say, is youse goin' tolet me have dat quarter? I need it, honest I do. I ain't had nuttin't' eat in two days. "

The man's tone was whining. Surely he seemed like a genuine tramp, and Tom felt a little sorry for him. Besides, he felt that he owedhim something for the unceremonious manner in which he had knockedthe fellow down. Tom reached his hand in his pocket for some change, taking care to keep the machine between himself and the tramp. 

"Are youse goin' far on dat rig-a-ma-jig?" went on the man as helooked carefully over the motor-cycle. 

"To Albany, " answered Tom, and the moment the words were out of hismouth he wished he could recall them. All his suspicions regardingthe tramp came back to him. But the ragged chap appeared to attachno significance to them. 

"Albany? Dat's in Jersey, ain't it?" he asked. 

"No, it's in New York, " replied Tom, and then, to change thesubject, he pulled out a half-dollar and handed it to the man. As hedid so Tom noticed that the tramp had tattooed on the little fingerof his left hand a blue ring. 

"Dat's de stuff! Youse is a reg'lar millionaire, youse is!"exclaimed the tramp, and his manner seemed in earnest. "I'llremember youse, I will. What's your name, anyhow, cully?"

"Tom Swift, " replied our hero, and again he wished he had not told. This time he was sure the tramp started and glanced at him quickly, but perhaps it was only his imagination. 

"Tom Swift, " repeated the man musingly, and his tones were differentfrom the whining ones in which he had asked for money. Then, as ifrecollecting the part he was playing, he added: "I s'pose dey callsyouse dat because youse rides so quick on dat machine. But I'mcertainly obliged to youse--Tom Swift, an' I hopes youse gits t'Albany, in Jersey, in good time. "

He turned away, and Tom was beginning to breathe more easily whenthe ragged man, with a quick gesture, reached out and grabbed holdof the motor-cycle. He gave it such a pull that it was nearly tornfrom Tom's grasp. The lad was so startled at the sudden exhibitionof vindictiveness an the part of the tramp that he did not know whatto do. Then, before he could recover himself, the tramp darted intothe bushes. 

"I guess Happy Harry--dat's me--has spoiled your ride t' Albany!"the tramp cried. "Maybe next time youse won't run down poor fellerson de road, " and with that, the ragged man, shaking his fist at Tom, was lost to sight in the underbrush. 

"Well, if that isn't a queer end up, " mused Tom. "He must be crazy. I hope I don't meet you again, Happy Harry, or whatever your nameis. Guess I'll get out of this neighborhood. "

CHAPTER XII. 

THE MEN IN THE AUTO

Tom first made sure that the package containing the model was stillsafely in place back of his saddle on the motor-cycle. Finding itthere he next put his hand in his pocket to see that he had thepapers. 

"They're all right, " spoke Tom aloud. "I didn't know but what thatchap might have worked a pickpocket game on me. I'm glad I didn'tmeet him after dark. Well, it's a good thing it's no worse. I wonderif he tried to get my machine away from me? Don't believe he'd knowhow to ride it if he did. "

Tom wheeled his motor-cycle to a hard side-path along the old road, and jumped into the saddle. He worked the pedals preparatory toturning on the gasolene and spark to set the motor in motion. As hethrew forward the levers, having acquired what he thought was thenecessary momentum, he was surprised that no explosion followed. Themotor seemed "dead. "

"That's queer, " he thought, and he began to pedal more rapidly. "Italways used to start easily. Maybe it doesn't like this sandyroad. "

It was hard work sending the heavy machine along by "leg power, " andonce more, when he had acquired what he thought was sufficientspeed, Tom turned on the power. But no explosions followed, and insome alarm he jumped to the ground. 

"Something's wrong, " he said aloud. "That tramp must have damagedthe machine when he yanked it so. " Tom went quickly over thedifferent parts. It did not take him long to discover what thetrouble was. One of the wires, leading from the batteries to themotor, which wire served to carry the current of electricity thatexploded the mixture of air and gasolene, was missing. It had beenbroken off close to the battery box and the spark plug. 

"That's what Happy Harry did!" exclaimed Tom. "He pulled that wireoff when he yanked my machine. That's what he meant by hoping I'dget to Albany. That fellow was no tramp. He was disguised, and up tosome game. And he knows something about motor-cycles, too, or henever would have taken that wire. I'm stalled, now, for I haven'tgot another piece. I ought to have brought some. I'll have to pushthis machine until I get to town, or else go back home. "

The young inventor looked up and down the lonely road, undecidedwhat to do. To return home meant that he would be delayed in gettingto Albany, for he would lose a day. If he pushed on to Pompville hemight be able to get a bit of wire there. 

Tom decided that was his best plan, and plodded on through the thicksand. He had not gone more than a quarter of a mile, every stepseeming harder than the preceding one, when he heard, from the woodsclose at his left hand, a gun fired. He jumped so that he nearly letthe motor-cycle fall over, for a wild idea came into his head thatthe tramp had shot at him. With a quickly-beating heart the ladlooked about him. 

"I wonder if that was Happy Harry?" he mused. 

There was a crackling in the bushes and Tom, wondering what he mightdo to protect himself, looked toward the place whence the noiseproceeded. A moment later a hunter stepped into view. The mancarried a gun and wore a canvas suit, a belt about his waist beingfilled with cartridges. 

"Hello!" he exclaimed pleasantly, Then, seeing a look of alarm onthe lad's face, he went on:

"I hope I didn't shoot in your direction, young man; did I?"

"No--no, sir, " replied the youthful inventor, who had hardlyrecovered his composure. "I heard your gun, and I imagined--"

"Did you think you had been shot? You must have a very vividimagination, for I fired in the air. "

"No, I didn't exactly think that, " replied Tom, "but I just had anencounter with an ugly tramp, and I feared he might be using me fora target. "

"Is that so. I hadn't noticed any tramps around here, and I've beenin these woods nearly all day. Did he harm you?"

"No, not me, but my motor-cycle, " and the lad explained. 

"Pshaw! That's too bad!" exclaimed the hunter. "I wish I couldsupply you with a bit of wire, but I haven't any. I'm just walkingabout, trying my new gun. "

"I shouldn't think you'd find anything to shoot this time of year, "remarked Tom. 

"I don't expect to, " answered the hunter, who had introduced himselfas Theodore Duncan. "But I have just purchased a new gun, and Iwanted to try it. I expect to do considerable hunting this fall, andso I'm getting ready for it. "

"Do you live near here?"

"Well, about ten miles away, on the other side of Lake Carlopa, butI am fond of long walks in the woods. If you ever get to Waterford Iwish you'd come and see me, Mr. Swift. I have heard of your father. "

"I will, Mr. Duncan; but if I don't get something to repair mymachine with I'm not likely to get anywhere right away. "

"Well, I wish I could help you, but I haven't the least ingenuitywhen it comes to machinery. Now if I could help you track down thattramp--"

"Oh, no, thank you, I'd rather not have anything more to do withhim. "

"If I caught sight of him now, " resumed the hunter, "I fancy I couldmake him halt, and, perhaps, give you back the wire. I'm a prettygood shot, even if this is a new gun. I've been practicing atimprovised targets all day. "

"No; the less I have to do with him, the better I shall like it, "answered Tom, "though I'm much obliged to you. I'll manage somehowuntil I get to Pompville. "

He started off again, the hunter disappearing in the woods, whencethe sound of his gun was again heard. 

"He's a queer chap, " murmured Tom, "but I like him. Perhaps I maysee him when I go to Waterford, if I ever do. "

Tom was destined to see the hunter again, at no distant time, andunder strange circumstances. But now the lad's whole attention wastaken up with the difficulty in which he found himself. Vainlymusing on what object the tramp could have had in breaking off thewire, the young inventor trudged on. 

"I guess he was one of the gang after dad's invention, " thought Tom, "and he must have wanted to hinder me from getting to Albany, thoughwhy I can't imagine. " With a dubious shake of his head Tomproceeded. It was hard work pushing the heavy machine through thesand, and he was puffing before he had gone very far. 

"I certainly am up against it, " he murmured. "But if I can get a bitof wire in Pompville I'll be all right. If I can't--"

Just then Tom saw something which caused him to utter an exclamationof delight. 

"That's the very thing!" he cried. "Why didn't I think of itbefore?"

Leaving his motor-cycle standing against a tree Tom hurried to afence that separated the road from a field. The fence was a barbed-wireone, and in a moment Tom had found a broken strand. 

"Guess no one will care if I take a piece of this, " he reasoned. "Itwill answer until I can get more. I'll have it in place in a jiffy!"

It did not take long to get his pliers from his toolbag and snip offa piece of the wire. Untwisting it he took out the sharp barbs, andthen was ready to attach it to the binding posts of the battery boxand the spark plug. 

"Hold on, though!" he exclaimed as he paused in the work. "It's gotto be insulated, or it will vibrate against the metal of the machineand short circuit. I have it! My handkerchief! I s'pose Mrs. Baggertwill kick at tearing up a good one, but I can't help it. "

Tom took a spare handkerchief from the bundle in which he had a fewbelongings carried with the idea of spending the night at an Albanyhotel, and he was soon wrapping strips of linen around the wire, tying them with pieces of string. 

"There!" he exclaimed at length. "That's insulated good enough, Iguess. Now to fasten it on and start. "

The young inventor, who was quick with tools, soon had theimprovised wire in place. He tested the spark and found that it wasalmost as good as when the regular copper conductor was in place. Then, having taken a spare bit of the barbed-wire along in case ofanother emergency, he jumped on the motor-cycle, pedaled it untilsufficient speed was attained, and turned on the power. 

"That's the stuff!" he cried as the welcome explosions sounded. "Iguess I've fooled Happy Harry! I'll get to Albany pretty nearly ontime, anyhow. But that tramp surely had me worried for a while. "

He rode into Pompville, and on inquiring in a plumbing shop managedto get a bit of copper wire that answered better than did thegalvanized piece from the fence. The readjustment was quickly made, and he was on his way again. As it was getting close to noon hestopped near a little spring outside of Pompville and ate asandwich, washing it down with the cold water. Then he started forCentreford. 

As he was coming into the city he heard an automobile behind him. Hesteered to one side of the road to give the big car plenty of roomto pass, but it did not come on as speedily as he thought it would. He looked back and saw that it was going to stop near him. Accordingly he shut off the power of his machine. 

"Is this the road to Centreford?" asked one of the travelers in theauto. 

"Straight ahead, " answered the lad. 

At the sound of his voice one of the men in the big touring carleaned forward and whispered something to one on the front seat. Thesecond man nodded, and looked closely at Tom. The youth, in turn, stared at the men. He could not distinguish their faces, as they hadon auto goggles. 

"How many miles is it?" asked the man who had whispered, and at thesound of his voice Tom felt a vague sense that he had heard itbefore. 

"Three, " answered the young inventor, and once more he saw the menwhisper among themselves. 

"Thanks, " spoke the driver of the car, and he threw in the gears. Asthe big machine darted ahead the goggles which one of the men woreslipped off. Tom had a glimpse of his face. 

"Anson Morse!" he exclaimed. "If that isn't the man who was sneakingaround dad's motor shop he's his twin brother! I wonder if thosearen't the men who are after the patent model? I must be on myguard!" and Tom, watching the car fade out of sight on the roadahead of him, slowly started his motor-cycle. He was much puzzledand alarmed. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

CAUGHT IN A STORM

The more Tom tried to reason out the cause of the men's actions, themore he dwelt upon his encounter with the tramp, and the harder heendeavored to seek a solution of the queer puzzle, the morecomplicated it seemed. He rode on until he saw in a valley below himthe buildings of the town of Centreford, and, with a view of them, anew idea came into his mind. 

"I'll go get a good dinner, " he decided, "and perhaps that will helpme to think more clearly. That's what dad always does when he'spuzzling over an invention. " He was soon seated in a restaurant, where he ate a substantial dinner. "I'm just going to stop puzzlingover this matter, " he decided. "I'll push an to Albany and tell thelawyer, Mr. Crawford. Perhaps he can advise me. "

Once this decision was made Tom felt better. 

"That's just what I needed, " he thought; "some one to shift theresponsibility upon. I'll let the lawyers do the worrying. That'swhat they're paid for. Now for Albany, and I hope I don't have tostop, except for supper, until I get there. I've got to do somenight riding, but I've got a powerful lamp, and the roads from nowon are good. "

Tom was soon on his way again. The highway leading to Albany was ahard, macadam one, and he fairly flew along the level stretches. 

"This is making good time, " he thought. "I won't be so very late, after all; that is, if nothing delays me. "

The young inventor looked up into the sky. The sun, which had beenshining brightly all day, was now hidden behind a mass of hazyclouds, for which the rider was duly grateful, as it was becomingquite warm. 

"It's more like summer than I thought, " said Tom to himself. "Ishouldn't be surprised if we got rain to-morrow. "

Another look at the sky confirmed him in this belief, and he had notgone on many miles farther when his opinion was suddenly changed. This was brought about by a dull rumble in the west, and Tom noticedthat a bank of low-lying clouds had formed, the black, inky massesof vapor being whirled upward as if by some powerful blast. 

"Guess my storm is going to arrive ahead of time, " he said. "I'dbetter look for shelter. "

With a suddenness that characterizes summer showers, the whole skybecame overcast. The thunder increased, and the flashes of lightningbecame more frequent and dazzling. A wind sprang up and blew cloudsof dust in Tom's face. 

"It certainly is going to be a thunder storm, " he admitted. "I'mbound to be delayed now, for the roads will be mucky. Well, there'sno help for it. If I get to Albany before midnight I'll be doingwell. "

A few drops of rain splashed on his hands, and as he looked up tonote the state of the sky others fell in his face. They were bigdrops, and where they splashed on the road they formed littleglobules of mud. 

"I'll head for that big tree, " thought Tom "It will give me someshelter. I'll wait there--" His words were interrupted by adeafening crash of thunder which followed close after a blindingflash. "No tree for mine!" murmured Tom. "I forgot that they'redangerous in a storm. I wonder where I can stay?"

He turned on all the power possible and sprinted ahead. Around acurve in the road he went, leaning over to preserve his balance, andjust as the rain came pelting down in a torrent he saw just ahead ofhim a white church on the lonely country road. To one side was along shed, where the farmers were in the habit of leaving theirteams when they came to service. 

"Just the thing!" cried the boy; "and just in time!"

He turned his motor-cycle into the yard surrounding the church, anda moment later had come to a stop beneath the shed. It was broad andlong, furnishing a good protection against the storm, which had nowburst in all its fury. 

Tom was not very wet, and looking to see that the model, which waspartly of wood, had suffered no damage, the lad gave his attentionto his machine. 

"Seems to be all right, " he murmured. "I'll just oil her up whileI'm waiting. This can't last long; it's raining too hard. "

He busied himself over the motor-cycle, adjusting a nut that hadbeen rattled loose, and putting some oil on the bearings. The rainkept up steadily, and when he had completed his attentions to hismachine Tom looked out from under the protection of the shed. 

"It certainly is coming down for keeps, " he murmured. "This trip isa regular hoodoo so far. Hope I have it better coming back. "

As he looked down the road he espied an automobile coming throughthe mist of rain. It was an open car, and as he saw the three men init huddled up under the insufficient protection of some blankets, Tom said:

"They'd ought to come in here. There's lots of room. Maybe theydon't see it. I'll call to them. "

The car was almost opposite the shed which was dose to the roadside. Tom was about to call when one of the men in the auto looked up. Hesaw the shelter and spoke to the chauffeur. The latter was preparingto steer up into the shed when the two men on the rear seat caughtsight of Tom. 

"Why, that's the same car that passed me a while ago, " said theyoung inventor half aloud. "The one that contained those men whom Isuspected might be after dad's patent. I hope they--"

He did not finish his sentence, for at that instant the chauffeurquickly swung the machine around and headed it back into the road. Clearly the men were not going to take advantage of the shelter ofthe shed. 

"That's mighty strange, " murmured Tom. "They certainly saw me, andas soon as they did they turned away. Can they be afraid of me?"

He went to the edge of the shelter and peered out. The auto haddisappeared down the road behind a veil of rain, and, shaking hishead over the strange occurrence, Tom went back to where he had lefthis motor-cycle. 

"Things are getting more and more muddled, " he said. "I'm sure thosewere the same men, and yet--"

He shrugged his shoulders. The puzzle was getting beyond him. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

ATTACKED FROM BEHIND

Steadily the rain came down, the wind driving it under the sheduntil Tom was hard put to find a place where the drops would notreach him. He withdrew into a far corner, taking his motor-cycle withhim, and then, sitting on a block of wood, under the rough mangerswhere the horses were fed while the farmers attended church, the ladthought over the situation. He could make little of it, and the morehe tried the worse it seemed to become. He looked out across the wetlandscape. 

"I wonder if this is ever going to stop?" he mused. "It looks as ifit was in for an all-day pour, yet we ought only to have a summershower by rights. "

"But then I guess what I think about it won't influence the weatherman a bit. I might as well make myself comfortable, for I can't doanything. Let's see. If I get to Fordham by six o'clock I ought tobe able to make Albany by nine, as it's only forty miles. I'll getsupper in Fordham, and push on. That is, I will if the rain stops. "

That was the most necessary matter to have happen first, and Tomarising from his seat strolled over to the front of the shed to lookout. 

"I believe it is getting lighter in the west, " he told himself. "Yes, the clouds are lifting. It's going to clear. It's only asummer shower, after all. "

But just as he said that there came a sudden squall of wind andrain, fiercer than any which had preceded. Tom was driven back tohis seat on the log. It was quite chilly now, and he noticed thatnear where he sat there was a big opening in the rear of the shed, where a couple of boards were off. 

"This must be a draughty place in winter, " he observed. "If I couldfind a drier spot I'd sit there, but this seems to be the best, " andhe remained there, musing on many things. Suddenly in the midst ofhis thoughts he imagined he heard the sound of an automobileapproaching. "I wonder if those men are coming back here?" heexclaimed. "If they are--"

The youth again arose, and went to the front of the shed. He couldsee nothing, and came back to escape the rain. There was no doubtbut that the shower would soon be over, and looking at his watch, Tom began to calculate when he might arrive in Albany. 

He was busy trying to figure out the best plan to pursue, and washardly conscious of his surroundings. Seated on the log, with hisback to the opening in the shed, the young inventor could not see afigure stealthily creeping up through the wet grass. Nor could hesee an automobile, which had come to a stop back of the horseshelter--an automobile containing two rain-soaked men, who wereanxiously watching the one stealing through the grass. 

Tom put his watch back into his pocket and looked out into thestorm. It was almost over. The sun was trying to shine through theclouds, and only a few drops were falling. The youth stretched witha yawn, for he was tired of sitting still. At the moment when heraised his arms to relieve his muscles something was thrust throughthe opening behind him. It was a long club, and an instant later itdescended on the lad's head. He went down in a heap, limp andmotionless. 

Through the opening leaped a man. He bent over Tom, looked anxiouslyat him, and then, stepping to the place where the boards were offthe shed, he motioned to the men in the automobile. 

They hurried from the machine, and were soon beside their companion. 

"I knocked him out, all right, " observed the man who had reachedthrough and dealt Tom the blow with the club. 

"Knocked him out! I should say you did, Featherton!" exclaimed onewho appeared better dressed than the others. "Have you killed him?"

"No; but I wish you wouldn't mention my name, Mr. Appleson. I--Idon't like--"

"Nonsense, Featherton. No one can hear us. But I'm afraid you'vedone for the chap. I didn't want him harmed. "

"Oh, I guess Featherton knows how to do it, Appleson, " commented thethird man. "He's had experience that way, eh, Featherton?"

"Yes, Mr. Morse; but if you please I wish you wouldn't mention--"

"All right, Featherton, I know what you mean, " rejoined the manaddressed as Morse. "Now let's see if we have drawn a blank or not. I think he has with him the very thing we want. "

"Doesn't seem to be about his person, " observed Appleson, as hecarefully felt about the clothing of the unfortunate Tom. 

"Very likely not. It's too bulky. But there's his motor-cycle overthere. It looks as if what we wanted was on the back of the saddle. Jove, Featherton, but I think he's coming to!"

Tom stirred uneasily and moved his arms, while a moan came frombetween his parted lips. 

"I've got some stuff that will fix him!" exclaimed the man addressedas Featherton, and who had been operating the automobile. He tooksomething from his pocket and leaned over Tom. In a moment the younginventor was still again. 

"Quick now, see if it's there, " directed Morse, and Appleson hurriedover to the machine. 

"Here it is!" he called. "I'll take it to our car, and we can getaway. "

"Are you going to leave him here like this?" asked Morse. 

"Yes; why not?"

"Because some one might have seen him come in here, and alsoremember that we, too, came in this direction. "

"What would you do?"

"Take him down the road a way and leave him. We can find some shednear a farmhouse where he and his machine will be out of sight untilwe get far enough away. Besides, I don't like to leave him so farfrom help, unconscious as he is. "

"Oh, you're getting chicken-hearted, " said Appleson with a sneer. "However, have your way about it. I wonder what has become of JakeBurke? He was to meet us in Centreford, but he did not show up. "

"Oh, I shouldn't be surprised if he had trouble in that tramp rig heinsisted on adopting. I told him he was running a risk, but he saidhe had masqueraded as a tramp before. "

"So he has. He's pretty good at it. Now, Simpson, if you will--"

"Not Simpson! I thought you agreed to call me Featherton, "interrupted the chauffeur, turning to Morse and Appleson. 

"Oh, so we did. I forgot that this lad met us one day, and heard mecall you Simpson, " admitted Morse. "Well, Featherton it shall be. But we haven't much time. It's stopped raining, and the roads willsoon be well traveled. We must get away, and if we are to take thelad and his machine to some secluded place, we'd better be at it. Nouse waiting for Burke. He can look out after himself. Anyhow, wehave the model now, and there's no use in him hanging around Swift'sshop, as he intended to do, waiting for a chance to sneak in afterit. Appleson, if you and Simpson--I mean Featherton--will carryyoung Swift, I'll shove his wheel along to the auto, and we can putit and him in. "

The two men, first looking through the hole in the shed to make surethey were not observed, went out, carrying Tom, who was no lightload. Morse followed them, pushing the motor-cycle, and carryingunder one arm the bundle containing the valuable model, which he haddetached. 

"I think this is the time we get ahead of Mr. Swift, " murmuredMorse, pulling his black mustache, when he and his companions hadreached the car in the field. "We have just what we want now. "

"Yes, but we had hard enough work getting it, " observed Appleson. "Only by luck we saw this lad come in here, or we would have had tochase all over for him, and maybe then we would have missed him. Hurry, Simpson--I mean Featherton. It's getting late, and we've gotlots to do. "

The chauffeur sprang to his seat, Appleson taking his place besidehim. The motor-cycle was tied on behind the big touring car, andwith the unconscious form of Tom in the tonneau, beside Morse, whostroked his mustache nervously, the auto started off. The storm hadpassed, and the sun was shining brightly, but Tom could not see it. 

CHAPTER XV. 

A VAIN SEARCH

Several hours later Tom had a curious dream. He imagined he waswandering about in the polar regions, and that it was very cold. Hewas trying to reason with himself that he could not possibly be onan expedition searching for the North Pole, still he felt such akeen wind blowing over his scantily-covered body that he shivered. He shivered so hard, in fact, that he shivered himself awake, andwhen he tried to pierce the darkness that enveloped him he wasstartled, for a moment, with the idea that perhaps, after all, hehad wandered off to some unknown country. 

For it was quite dark and cold. He was in a daze, and there was acurious smell about him--an odor that he tried to recall. Then, allat once, it came to him what it was--chloroform. Once his father hadundergone an operation, and to deaden his pain chloroform had beenused. 

"I've been chloroformed!" exclaimed the young inventor, and hiswords sounded strange in his ears. "That's it. I've met with anaccident riding my motor-cycle. I must have hit my head, for ithurts fearful. They picked me up, carried me to a hospital and haveoperated on me. I wonder if they took off an arm or leg? I wonderwhat hospital I'm in? Why is it so dark and cold?"

As he asked himself these questions his brain gradually cleared fromthe haze caused by the cowardly blow, and from the chloroform thathad been administered by Featherton. 

Tom's first act was to feel first of one arm, then the other. Havingsatisfied himself that neither of these members were mutilated hereached down to his legs. 

"Why, they're all right, too, " he murmured. "I wonder what they didto me? That's certainly, chloroform I smell, and my head feels as ifsome one had sat on it. I wonder--"

Quickly he put up his hands to his head. There appeared to benothing the matter with it, save that there was quite a lump on theback, where the club had struck. 

"I seem to be all here, " went on Tom, much mystified. "But where amI? That's the question. It's a funny hospital, so cold and dark--"

Just then his hands came in contact with the cold ground on which hewas lying. 

"Why, I'm outdoors!" he exclaimed. Then in a flash it all came backto him--how he had gone to wait under the church shed until the rainwas over. 

"I fell asleep, and now it's night, " the youth went on. "No wonder Iam sore and stiff. And that chloroform--" He could not account forthat, and he paused, puzzled once more. Then he struggled to asitting position. His head was strangely dizzy, but he persisted, and got to his feet. He could see nothing, and groped around In thedark, until he thought to strike a match. Fortunately he had anumber in his pocket. As the little flame flared up Tom started insurprise. 

"This isn't the church shed!" he exclaimed. "It's much smaller! I'min a different place! Great Scott! but what has happened to me?"

The match burned Tom's fingers and he dropped it. The darknessclosed in once more, but Tom was used to it by this time, andlooking ahead of him he could make out that the shed was an openone, similar to the one where he had taken shelter. He could see thesky studded with stars, and could feel the cold night wind blowingin. 

"My motor-cycle!" he exclaimed in alarm. "The model of dad'sinvention--the papers!"

Our hero thrust his hand into his pocket. The papers were gone!Hurriedly he lighted another match. It took but an instant to glancerapidly about the small shed. His machine was not in sight!

Tom felt his heart sink. After all his precautions he had beenrobbed. The precious model was gone, and it had been his propositionto take it to Albany in this manner. What would his father say?

The lad lighted match after match, and made a rapid tour of theshed. The motor-cycle was not to be seen. But what puzzled Tom morethan anything else was how he had been brought from the church shedto the one where he had awakened from his stupor. 

"Let me try to think, " said the boy, speaking aloud, for it seemedto help him. "The last I remember is seeing that automobile, withthose mysterious men in, approaching. Then it disappeared in therain. I thought I heard it again, but I couldn't see it. I wassitting on the log, and--and--well, that's all I can remember. Iwonder if those men--"

The young inventor paused. Like a flash it came to him that the menwere responsible for his predicament. They had somehow made himinsensible, stolen his motor-cycle, the papers and the model, andthen brought him to this place, wherever it was. Tom was a shrewdreasoner, and he soon evolved a theory which he afterward learnedwas the correct one. He reasoned out almost every step in the crimeof which he was the victim, and at last came to the conclusion thatthe men had stolen up behind the shed and attacked him. 

"Now, the next question to settle, " spoke Tom, "is to learn where Iam. How far did those scoundrels carry me, and what has become of mymotor-cycle?"

He walked toward the point of the shed where he could observe thestars gleaming, and there he lighted some more matches, hoping hemight see his machine. By the gleam of the little flame he notedthat he was in a farmyard, and he was just puzzling his brain overthe question as to what city or town he might be near when he hearda voice shouting:

"Here, what you lightin' them matches for? You want to set the placeafire? Who be you, anyhow--a tramp?"

It was unmistakably the voice of a farmer, and Tom could hearfootsteps approaching on the run. 

"Who be you, anyhow?" the voice repeated. "I'll have the constableafter you in a jiffy if you're a tramp. "

"I'm not a tramp, " called Tom promptly. "I've met with an accident. Where am I?"

"Humph! Mighty funny if you don't know where you are, " commented thefarmer. "Jed, bring a lantern until I take a look at who this is. "

"All right, pop, " answered another voice, and a moment later Tom sawa tall man standing in front of him. 

"I'll give you a look at me without waiting for the lantern, " saidTom quickly, and he struck a match, holding it so that the gleamfell upon his face. 

"Salt mackerel! It's a young feller!" exclaimed the farmer. "Who beyou, anyhow, and what you doin' here?"

"That's just what I would like to know, " said Tom, passing his handover his head, which was still paining him. "Am I near Albany?That's where I started for this morning. "

"Albany? You're a good way from Albany, " replied the farmer. "You'rein the village of Dunkirk. "

"How far is that from Centreford?"

"About seventy miles. "

"As far as that?" cried Tom. "They must have carried me a good wayin their automobile. "

"Was you in that automobile?" demanded the farmer. 

"Which one?" asked Tom quickly. 

"The one that stopped down the road just before supper. I see it, but I didn't pay no attention to it. If I'd 'a' knowed you fell out, though, I'd 'a' come to help you. "

"I didn't fall out, Mr. --er--" Tom paused. 

"Blackford is my name; Amos Blackford. "

"Well, Mr. Blackford, I didn't fall out. I was drugged and broughthere. "

"Drugged! Salt mackerel! But there's been a crime committed, then. Jed, hurry up with that lantern an' git your deputy sheriff's badgeon. There's been druggin' an' all sorts of crimes committed. I'vecaught one of the victims. Hurry up! My son's a deputy sheriff, " headded, by way of an explanation. 

"Then I hope he can help me catch the scoundrels who robbed me, "said Tom. 

"Robbed you, did they? Hurry up, Jed. There's been a robbery! We'llrouse the neighborhood an' search for the villains. Hurry up, Jed!"

"I'd rather find my motor-cycle, and a valuable model which was onit, than locate those men, " went on Tom. "They also took some papersfrom me. "

Then he told how he had started for Albany, adding his theory of howhe had been attacked and carried away in the auto. The latter partof it was borne out by the testimony of Mr. Blackford. 

"What I know about it, " said the farmer, when his son Jed hadarrived on the scene with a lantern and his badge, "is that jestabout supper time I saw an automobile stop down the road a bit, Itwas gittin' dusk, an' I saw some men git out. I didn't pay noattention to them, 'cause I was busy about the milkin'. The next Iknowed I seen some one strikin' matches in my wagon shed, an' I comeout to see what it was. "

"The men must have brought me all the way from the church shed nearCentreford to here, " declared Tom. "Then they lifted me out and putme in your shed. Maybe they left my motor-cycle also. "

"I didn't see nothin' like that, " said the farmer. "Is that what youcall one of them two-wheeled lickity-split things that a man sits onthe middle of an' goes like chain-lightning?"

"It is, " said Tom. "I wish you'd help me look for it. "

The farmer and his son agreed, and other lanterns having beensecured, a search was made. After about half an hour the motor-cyclewas discovered in some bushes at the side of the road, near wherethe automobile had stopped. But the model was missing from it, and acareful search near where the machine had been hidden did not revealit. Nor did as careful a hunt as they could make in the darknessdisclose any clues to the scoundrels who had drugged and robbed Tom. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

BACK HOME

"We've got to organize a regular searchin' party, " declared JedBlackford, after he and his father, together with Tom and thefarmer's hired man, had searched up and down the road by the lightof lanterns. "We'll organize a posse an' have a regular hunt. Thisis the worst crime that's been committed in this deestrict in manyyears, an' I'm goin' to run the scoundrels to earth. "

"Don't be talkin' nonsense, Jed, " interrupted his father. "You won'tcatch them fellers in a hundred years. They're miles an' miles awayfrom here by this time in their automobile. All you can do is tonotify the sheriff. I guess we'd better give this young man someattention. Let's see, you said your name was Quick, didn't you?"

"No, but it's very similar, " answered Tom with a smile. "It'sSwift. "

"I knowed it was something had to do with speed, " went on Mr. Blackford. "Wa'al, now, s'pose you come in the house an' have a hotcup of tea. You look sort of draggled out. "

Tom was glad enough to avail himself of the kind invitation, and hewas soon in the comfortable kitchen, relating his story, with moredetail, to the farmer and his family. Mrs. Blackford applied somehome-made remedies to the lump on the youth's head, and it felt muchbetter. 

"I'd like to take a look at my motor-cycle, " he said, after hissecond cup of tea. "I want to see if those men damaged it any. Ifthey have I'm going to have trouble getting back home to tell myfather of my bad luck. Poor dad! He will be very much worried when Itell him the model and his patent papers have been stolen. "

"It's too bad!" exclaimed Mrs. Blackford. "I wish I had hold of themscoundrels!" and her usually gentle face bore a severe frown. "Ofcourse you can have your thing-a-ma-bob in to see if it's hurt, butplease don't start it in here. They make a terrible racket. "

"No, I'll look it over in the woodshed, " promised Tom. "If it's allright I think I'll start back home at once. "

"No, you can't do that, " declared Mr. Blackford. "You're in nocondition to travel. You might fall off an' git hurt. It's nearly teno'clock now. You jest stay here all night, an' in the mornin', if youfeel all right, you can start off. I couldn't let you go to-night. "

Indeed, Tom did not feel very much like undertaking the journey, forthe blow on his head had made him dazed, and the chloroform caused asick feeling. Mr. Blackford wheeled the motor-cycle into thewoodhouse, which opened from the kitchen, and there the youth wentover the machine. He was glad to find that it had sustained nodamage. In the meanwhile Jed had gone off to tell the startling newsto near-by farmers. Quite a throng, with lanterns, went up and downthe road, but all the evidence they could find were the marks of theautomobile wheels, which clues were not very satisfactory. 

"But we'll catch them in the mornin', " declared the deputy sheriff. "I'll know that automobile again if I see it. It was painted red. "

"That's the color of a number of automobiles, " said Tom with asmile. "I'm afraid you'll have trouble identifying it by that means. I am surprised, though, that they did not carry my motor-cycle awaywith them. It is a valuable machine. "

"They were afraid to, " declared Jed. "It would look queer to see amachine like that in an auto. Of course when they were going alongcountry roads in the evening it didn't much matter, but when theyheaded for the city, as they probably did, they knew it wouldattract suspicion to 'em. I know, for I've been a deputy sheriff'most a year. "

"I believe you're right, " agreed Tom. "They didn't dare take themotor-cycle with them, but they hid it, hoping I would not find it. I'd rather have the model and the papers, though, than half a dozenmotor-cycles. "

"Maybe the police will help you find them, " said Mrs. Blackford. "Jed, you must telephone to the police the first thing in themorning. It's a shame the way criminals are allowed to go on. Ifhonest people did those things, they'd be arrested in a minute, butit seems that scoundrels can do as they please. "

"You wait; I'll catch 'em!" declared Jed confidently. "I'll organizeanother posse in the mornin'. "

"Well, I know one thing, and that is that the place for this youngman is in bed!" exclaimed motherly Mrs. Blackford, and she insistedon Tom retiring. He was somewhat restless at first, and the thoughtof the loss of the model and the papers preyed on his mind. Then, utterly exhausted, he sank into a heavy slumber, and did not awakenuntil the sun was shining in his window the next morning. A goodbreakfast made him feel somewhat better, and he was more like theresourceful Tom Swift of old when he went to get his motor-cycle inshape for the ride back to Shopton. 

"Well, I hope you find those criminals, " said Mr. Blackford, as hewatched Tom oiling the machine. "If you're ever out this way again, stop off and see us. "

"Yes, do, " urged Mrs. Blackford, who was getting ready to churn. Herhusband looked at the old-fashioned barrel and dasher arrangement, which she was filling with cream. 

"What's the matter with the new churn?" he asked in some surprise. 

"It's broken, " she replied. "It's always the way with those new-fangledthings. It works ever so much nicer than this old one, though, "she went on to Tom, "but it gets out of order easy. "

"Let me look at it, " suggested the young inventor. "I know somethingabout machinery. "

The churn, which worked by a system of cogs and a handle, wasbrought from the woodshed. Tom soon saw what the trouble was. One ofthe cogs had become displaced. It did not take him five minutes, with the tools he carried on his motor-cycle, to put it back, andthe churn was ready to use. 

"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Mrs. Blackford. "You are handy at suchthings!"

"Oh, it's just a knack, " replied Tom modestly. "Now I'll put a plugin there, and the cog wheel won't come loose again. Themanufacturers of it ought to have done that. I imagine lots ofpeople have this same trouble with these churns. "

"Indeed they do, " asserted Mrs. Blackford. "Sallie Armstrong hasone, and it got out of order the first week they had it. I'll lether look at mine, and maybe her husband can fix it. "

"I'd go and do it myself, but I want to get home, " said Tom, andthen he showed her how, by inserting a small iron plug in a certainplace, there would be no danger of the cog coming loose again. 

"That's certainly slick!" exclaimed Mr. Blackford. "Well, I wish yougood luck, Mr. Swift, and if I see those scoundrels around thisneighborhood again I'll make 'em wish they'd let you alone. "

"That's what, " added Jed, polishing his badge with his big, redhandkerchief. 

Mrs. Blackford transferred the cream to the new churn which Tom hadfixed, and as he rode off down the highway on his motor-cycle, shewaved one hand to him, while with the other she operated the handleof the apparatus. 

"Now for a quick run to Shopton to tell dad the bad news, " spoke Tomto himself as he turned on full speed and dashed away. "My trip hasbeen a failure so far. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

MR. SWIFT IN DESPAIR

Tom was thinking of many things as his speedy machine carried himmile after mile nearer home. By noon he was over half way on hisjourney, and he stopped in a small village for his dinner. 

"I think I'll make inquiries of the police here, to see if theycaught sight of those men, " decided Tom as he left the restaurant. "Though I am inclined to believe they kept on to Albany, or somelarge city, where they have their headquarters. They will want tomake use of dad's model as soon as possible, though what they willdo with it I don't know. " He tried to telephone to his father, butcould get no connection, as the wire was being repaired. 

The police force of the place where Tom had stopped for lunch waslike the town itself--small and not of much consequence. The chiefconstable, for he was not what one could call a chief of police, hadheard of the matter from the alarm sent out in all directions fromDunkirk, where Mr. Blackford lived. 

"You don't mean to tell me you're the young man who was chloroformedand robbed!" exclaimed the constable, looking at Tom as if hedoubted his word. 

"I'm the young man, " declared our hero. "Have you seen anything ofthe thieves?"

"Not a thing, though I've instructed all my men to keep a sharplookout for a red automobile, with three scoundrels in it. My menare to make an arrest on sight. "

"How many men have you?"

"Two, " was the rather surprising answer; "but one has to work on afarm daytimes, so I ain't really got but one in what you might callactive service. "

Tom restrained a desire to laugh. At any rate, the aged constablemeant well. 

"One of my men seen a red automobile, a little while before you comein my office, " went on the official, "but it wasn't the one wanted, 'cause a young woman was running it all alone. It struck me asrather curious that a woman would trust herself all alone in one ofthem things; wouldn't it you?"

"Oh, no, women and young ladies often operate them, " said Tom. 

"I should think you'd find one handier than the two-wheeledapparatus you have out there, " went on the constable, indicating themotor-cycle, which Tom had stood up against a tree. 

"I may have one some day, " replied the young inventor. "But I guessI'll be moving on now. Here's my address, in case you hear anythingof those men, but I don't imagine you will. "

"Me either. Fellows as slick as them are won't come back this wayand run the chance of being arrested by my men. I have two on dutynights, " he went on proudly, "besides myself, so you see we'repretty well protected. "

Tom thanked him for the trouble he had taken, and was soon on hisway again. He swept on along the quiet country roads anxious for thetime when he could consult with his father over what would be thebest course to take. 

When Tom was about a mile away from his house he saw in the roadahead of him a rickety old wagon, and a second glance at it told himthe outfit belonged to Eradicate Sampson, for the animal drawing thevehicle was none other than the mule, Boomerang. 

"But what in the world is Rad up to?" mused Tom, for the colored manwas out of the wagon and was going up and down in the grass at theside of the highway in a curious fashion. "I guess he's lostsomething, " decided Tom. 

When he got nearer he saw what Eradicate was doing. The colored manwas pushing a lawn-mower slowly to and fro in the tall, rank grassthat grew beside the thoroughfare, and at the sound of Tom'smotor-cycle the negro looked up. There was such a woe-begoneexpression on his face that Tom at once stopped his machine and gotoff. 

"What's the matter, Rad?" Tom asked. 

"Mattah, Mistah Swift? Why, dere's a pow'ful lot de mattah, an'dat's de truff. I'se been swindled, dat's what I has. "

"Swindled? How?"

"Well, it's dis-a-way. Yo' see dis yeah lawn-moah?"

"Yes; it doesn't seem to work, " and Tom glanced critically at it. AsEradicate pushed it slowly to and fro, the blades did not revolve, and the wheels slipped along on the grass. 

"No, sah, it doan't work, an' dat's how I've been swindled, MistahSwift. Yo' see, I done traded mah ole grindstone off for dis yeahlawn-moah, an' I got stuck. "

"What, that old grindstone that was broken in two, and that youfastened together with concrete?" asked Tom, for he had seen theoutfit with which Eradicate, in spare times between cleaning andwhitewashing, had gone about the country, sharpening knives andscissors. "You don't mean that old, broken one?"

"Dat's what I mean, Mistah Swift. Why, it was all right. I mended itso dat de break wouldn't show, an' it would sharpen things if yo'run it slow. But dis yeah lawn-moah won't wuk slow ner fast. "

"I guess it was an even exchange, then, " went on Tom. "You didn'tget bitten any worse than the other fellow did. "

"Yo' doan't s'pose yo' kin fix dis yeah moah so's I kin use it, doesyo', Mistah Swift?" asked Eradicate, not bothering to go into theethics of the matter. "I reckon now with summah comin' on I kin makemo' with a lawn-moah than I kin with a grindstone--dat is, ef I kingit it to wuk. I jest got it a while ago an' decided to try it, butit won't cut no grass. "

"I haven't much time, " said Tom, "for I'm anxious to get home, butI'll take a look at it. "

Tom leaned his motor-cycle against the fence. He could no more passa bit of broken machinery, which he thought he could mend, than somemen and boys can pass by a baseball game without stopping to watchit, no matter how pressed they are for time. It was Tom's hobby, andhe delighted in nothing so much as tinkering with machines, fromlawn-mowers to steam engines. 

Tom took hold of the handle, which Eradicate gladly relinquished tohim, and his trained touch told him at once what was the trouble. 

"Some one has had the wheels off and put them on wrong, Rad, " hesaid. "The ratchet and pawl are reversed. This mower would workbackwards, if that were possible. "

"Am dat so, Mistah Swift?"

"That's it. All I have to do is to take off the wheels and reversethe pawl. "

"I--I didn't know mah lawn-moah was named Paul, " said the coloredman. "Is it writ on it anywhere?"

"No, it's not the kind of Paul you mean, " said Tom with a laugh. "It's spelled differently. A pawl is a sort of catch that fits intoa ratchet wheel and pushes it around, or it may be used as a catchto prevent the backward motion of a windlass or the wheel on aderrick. I'll have it fixed in a jiffy for you. "

Tom worked rapidly. With a monkey-wrench he removed the two bigwheels of the lawn-mower and reversed the pawl in the cogs. In fiveminutes he had replaced the wheels, and the machine, except forneeded sharpening, did good work. 

"There you are, Rad!" exclaimed Tom at length. 

"Yo' suah am a wonder at inventin'!" cried the colored mangratefully. "I'll cut yo' grass all summah fo' yo' to pay fo' this, Mistah Swift. "

"Oh, that's too much. I didn't do a great deal, Rad. "

"Well, yo' saved me from bein' swindled, Mistah Swift, an' I suahdoes 'preciate dat. "

"How about the fellow you traded the cracked grindstone to, Rad?"

"Oh, well, ef he done run it slow it won't fly apart, an' he'll dodat, anyhow, fo' he suah am a lazy coon. I guess we am about eventhere, Mistah Swift. "

"All right, " spoke Tom with a laugh. "Sharpen it up, Rad, and startin to cut grass. It will soon be summer, " and Tom, leaping upon hismotor-cycle, was off like a shot. 

He found his father in his library, reading a book on scientificmatters. Mr. Swift looked up in surprise at seeing his son. 

"What! Back so soon?" he asked. "You did make a flying trip. Did yougive the model and papers to Mr. Crawford?"

"No, dad, I was robbed yesterday. Those scoundrels got ahead of us, after all. They have your model. I tried to telephone to you, butthe wires were down, or something. "

"What!" cried Mr. Swift. "Oh, Tom! That's too bad! I will lose tenthousand dollars if I can't get that model and those papers back!"and with a despairing gesture Mr. Swift rose and began to pace thefloor. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

HAPPY HARRY AGAIN

Tom watched his father anxiously. The young inventor knew the losshad been a heavy one, and he blamed himself for not having been morecareful. 

"Tell me all about it, Tom, " said Mr. Swift at length. "Are you surethe model and papers are gone? How did it happen?"

Then Tom related what had befallen him. 

"Oh, that's too bad!" cried Mr. Swift. "Are you much hurt, Tom?Shall I send for the doctor?" For the time being his anxiety overhis son was greater than that concerning his loss. 

"No, indeed, dad. I'm all right now. I got a bad blow on the head, but Mrs. Blackford fixed me up. I'm awfully sorry---"

"There, there! Now don't say another word, " interrupted Mr. Swift. "It wasn't your fault. It might have happened to me. I dare say itwould, for those scoundrels seemed very determined. They aredesperate, and will stop at nothing to make good the loss theysustained on the patent motor they exploited. Now they will probablytry to make use of my model and papers. "

"Do you think they'll do that, dad?"

"Yes. They will either make a motor exactly like mine, or constructone so nearly similar that it will answer their purpose. I will haveno redress against them, as my patent is not fully granted yet. Mr. Crawford was to attend to that. "

"Can't you do anything to stop them, dad? File an injunction, orsomething like that?"

"I don't know. I must see Mr. Crawford at once. I wonder if he couldcome here? He might be able to advise me. I have had very littleexperience with legal difficulties. My specialty is in other linesof work. But I must do something. Every moment is valuable. I wonderwho the men were?"

"I'm sure one of them was the same man who came here that night--theman with the black mustache, who dropped the telegram, " said Tom. "Ihad a pretty good look at him as the auto passed me, and I'm sure itwas he. Of course I didn't see who it was that struck me down, but Iimagine it was some one of the same gang. "

"Very likely. Well, Tom, I must do something. I suppose I mighttelegraph to Mr. Crawford--he will be expecting you in Albany--" Mr. Swift paused musingly. "No, I have it!" he suddenly exclaimed. "I'llgo to Albany myself. "

"Go to Albany, dad?"

"Yes; I must explain everything to the lawyers and then he canadvise me what to do. Fortunately I have some papers, duplicates ofthose you took, which I can show him. Of course the originals willbe necessary before I can prove my claim. The loss of the model isthe most severe, however. Without that I can do little. But I willhave Mr. Crawford take whatever steps are possible. I'll take thenight train, Tom. I'll have to leave you to look after matters here, and I needn't caution you to be on your guard, though, having gotwhat they were after, I fancy those financiers, or their tools, willnot bother us again. "

"Very likely not, " agreed Tom, "but I will keep my eyes open, justthe same. Oh, but that reminds me, dad. Did you see anything of atramp around here while I was away?"

"A tramp? No; but you had better ask Mrs. Baggert. She usuallyattends to them. She's so kind-hearted that she frequently givesthem a good meal. "

The housekeeper, when consulted, said that no tramps had applied inthe last few days. 

"Why do you ask, Tom?" inquired his father. 

"Because I had an experience with one, and I believe he was a memberof the same gang who robbed me. " And thereupon Tom told of hisencounter with Happy Harry, and how the latter had broken the wireon the motor-cycle. 

"You had a narrow escape, " commented Mr. Swift. "If I had known thedangers involved I would never have allowed you to take the model toAlbany. "

"Well, I didn't take it there, after all, " said Tom with a grimsmile, for he could appreciate a joke. 

"I must hurry and pack my valise, " went on Mr. Swift. "Mrs. Baggert, we will have an early supper, and I will start at once for Albany. "

"I wish I could go with you, dad, to make up for the trouble Icaused, " spoke Tom. 

"Tut, tut! Don't talk that way, " advised his father kindly. "I willbe glad of the trip. It will ease my mind to be doing something. "

Tom felt rather lonesome after his father had left, but he laid outa plan of action for himself that he thought would keep him occupieduntil his father returned. In the first place he made a tour of thehouse and various machine shops to see that doors and windows weresecurely fastened. 

"What's the matter? Do you expect burglars, Master Tom?" askedGarret Jackson, the aged engineer. 

"Well, Garret, you never can tell, " replied the young inventor, ashe told of his experience and the necessity for Mr. Swift going toAlbany. "Some of those scoundrels, finding how easy it was to robme, may try it again, and get some at dad's other valuable models. I'm taking no chances. "

"That's right, Master Tom. I'll keep steam up in the boiler to-night, though we don't really need it, as your father told me you wouldprobably not run any machinery when he was gone. But with a good headof steam up, and a hose handy, I can give any burglars a hotreception. I almost wish they'd come, so I could get square withthem. "

"I don't, Garret. Well, I guess everything is in good shape. If youhear anything unusual, or the alarm goes off during the night, callme. "

"I will, Master Tom, " and the old engineer, who had a living-room ina shack adjoining the boiler-room, locked the door after Tom left. 

The young inventor spent the early evening in attaching a new wireto his motor-cycle to replace the one he had purchased while on hisdisastrous trip. The temporary one was not just the proper thing, though it answered well enough. Then, having done some work on a newboat propeller he was contemplating patenting, Tom felt that it wastime to go to bed, as he was tired. He made a second round of thehouse, looking to doors and windows, until Mrs. Baggert exclaimed:

"Oh, Tom, do stop! You make me nervous, going around that way. I'msure I shan't sleep a wink to-night, thinking of burglars andtramps. "

Tom laughingly desisted, and went up to his room. He sat up a fewminutes, writing a letter to a girl of his acquaintance, for, inspite of the fact that the young inventor was very busy with his ownand his father's work, he found time for lighter pleasures. Then, ashis eyes seemed determined to close of their own accord, if he didnot let them, he tumbled into bed. 

Tom fancied it was nearly morning when he suddenly awoke with astart. He heard a noise, and at first he could not locate it. Thenhis trained ear traced it to the dining-room. 

"Why, Mrs. Baggert must be getting breakfast, and is rattling thedishes, " he thought. "But why is she up so early?"

It was quite dark in Tom's room, save for a little gleam from thecrescent moon, and by the light of this Tom arose and looked at hiswatch. 

"Two o'clock, " he whispered. "That can't be Mrs. Baggert, unlessshe's sick, and got up to take some medicine. "

He listened intently. Below, in the dining-room, he could hearstealthy movements. 

"Mrs. Baggert would never move around like that, " he decided. "She'stoo heavy. I wonder--it's a burglar--one of the gang has gotten in!"he exclaimed in tense tones. "I'm going to catch him at it!"

Hurriedly he slipped on some clothes, and then, having softly turnedon the electric light in his room, he took from a corner a smallrifle, which he made sure was loaded. Then, having taken a smallelectric flashlight, of the kind used by police men, and sometimesby burglars, he started on tiptoe toward the lower floor. 

As Tom softly descended the stairs he could more plainly hear themovements of the intruder. He made out now that the burglar was inMr. Swift's study, which opened from the dining-room. 

"He's after dad's papers!" thought Tom. "I wonder which one thisis?"

The youth had often gone hunting in the woods, and he knew how toapproach cautiously. Thus he was able to reach the door of thedining-room without being detected. He had no need to flash hislight, for the intruder was doing that so frequently with one hecarried that Tom could see him perfectly. The fellow was working atthe safe in which Mr. Swift kept his more valuable papers. 

Softly, very softly Tom brought his rifle to bear on the back of thethief. Then, holding the weapon with one hand, for it was verylight, Tom extended the electric flash, so that the glare would bethrown on the intruder and would leave his own person in the blackshadows. Pressing the spring which caused the lantern to throw out apowerful glow, Tom focused the rays on the kneeling man. 

"That will be about all!" the youth exclaimed in as steady a voiceas he could manage. 

The burglar turned like a flash, and Tom had a glimpse of his face. It was the tramp--Happy Harry--whom he had encountered on the lonelyroad. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

TOM ON A HUNT

Tom held his rifle in readiness, though he only intended it as ameans of intimidation, and would not have fired at the burglarexcept to save his own life. But the sight of the weapon was enoughfor the tramp. He crouched motionless. His own light had gone out, but by the gleam of the electric he carried Tom could see that theman had in his hand some tool with which he had been endeavoring toforce the safe. 

"I guess you've got me!" exclaimed the intruder, and there was inhis tones no trace of the tramp dialect. 

"It looks like it, " agreed Tom grimly. "Are you a tramp now, or insome other disguise?"

"Can't you see?" asked the fellow sullenly, and then Tom did noticethat the man still had on his tramp make-up. 

"What do you want?" asked Tom. 

"Hard to tell. " replied the burglar calmly. "I hadn't got the safeopen before you came down and disturbed me. I'm after money, naturally. "

"No, you're not!" exclaimed Tom. 

"What's that?" and the man seemed surprised. 

"No, you're not!" went on Tom, and he held his rifle in readiness. "You're after the patent papers and the model of the turbine motor. But it's gone. Your confederates got it away from me. They probablyhaven't told you yet, and you're still on the hunt for it. You'llnot get it, but I've got you. "

"So I see, " admitted Happy Harry, and he spoke with some culture. "If you don't mind, " he went on, "would you just as soon move thatgun a little? It's pointing right at my head, and it might go off. "

"It is going off--very soon!" exclaimed Tom grimly, and the trampstarted in alarm. "Oh, I'm not going to shoot you, " continued theyoung inventor. "I'm going to fire this as an alarm, and theengineer will come in here and tie you up. Then I'm going to handyou over to the police. This rifle is a repeater, and I am a prettygood shot. I'm going to fire once now, to summon assistance, and ifyou try to get away I'll be ready to fire a second time, and thatwon't be so comfortable for you. I've caught you, and I'm going tohold on to you until I get that model and those papers back. "

"Oh, you are, eh?" asked the burglar calmly. "Well, all I've got tosay is that you have grit. Go ahead. I'm caught good and proper. Iwas foolish to come in here, but I thought I'd take a chance. "

"Who are you, anyhow? Who are the men working with you to defraud myfather of his rights?" asked Tom somewhat bitterly. 

"I'll never tell you, " answered the burglar. "I was hired to docertain work, and that's all there is to it. I'm not going to peachon my pals. "

"We'll see about that!" burst out Tom. Then he noticed that adining-room window behind where the burglar was kneeling was open. Doubtless the intruder had entered that way, and intended to escapein the same manner. 

"I'm going to shoot, " announced Tom, and, aiming his rifle at theopen window, where the bullet would do no damage, he pressed thetrigger. He noticed that the burglar was crouching low down on thefloor, but Tom thought nothing of this at the time. He imagined thatHappy Harry--or whatever his name was--might be afraid of gettinghit. 

There was a flash of fire and a deafening report as Tom fired. Thecloud of smoke obscured his vision for a moment, and as the echoesdied away Tom could hear Mrs. Baggert screaming in her room. 

"It's all right!" cried the young inventor reassuringly. "No one ishurt, Mrs. Baggert!" Then he flashed his light on the spot where theburglar had crouched. As the smoke rolled away Tom peered in vainfor a sight of the intruder. 

Happy Harry was gone!

Holding his rifle in readiness, in case he should be attacked fromsome unexpected quarter, Tom strode forward. He flashed his light inevery direction. There was no doubt about it. The intruder had fled. Taking advantage of the noise when the gun was fired, and undercover of the smoke, the burglar had leaped from the open window. Tomguessed as much. He hurried to the casement and peered out, at thesame time noticing the cut wire of the burglar alarm. It was quitedark, and he fancied he could hear the noise of some one runningrapidly. Aiming his rifle into the air, he fired again, at the sametime crying out:

"Hold on!"

"All right, Master Tom, I'm coming!" called the voice of theengineer from his shack. "Are you hurt? Is Mrs. Baggert murdered? Ihear her screaming. "

"That's pretty good evidence that she isn't murdered, " said Tom witha grim smile. 

"Are you hurt?" again called Mr. Jackson. 

"No, I'm all right, " answered Tom. "Did you see any one running awayas you came up?"

"No, Master Tom, I didn't. What happened?"

"A burglar got in, and I had him cornered, but he got away when Ifired to arouse you. "

By this time the engineer was at the stoop, on which the windowopened. Tom unlocked a side door and admitted Mr. Jackson, and then, the incandescent light having been turned on, the two looked aroundthe apartment. Nothing in it had been disturbed, and the safe hadnot been opened. 

"I heard him just in time, " commented Tom, telling the engineer whathad happened. "I wish I had thought to get between him and thewindow. Then he couldn't have gotten away. "

"He might have injured you, though, " said Mr. Jackson. "We'll gooutside now, and look--"

"Is any one killed? Are you both murdered?" cried Mrs. Baggert atthe dining-room door. "If any one is killed I'm not coming in there. I can't bear the sight of blood. "

"No one is hurt, " declared Tom with a laugh. "Come on in, Mrs. Baggert, " and the housekeeper entered, her hair all done up in curlpapers. 

"Oh, my goodness me!" she exclaimed. "When I heard that cannon gooff I was sure the house was coming down. How is it some one wasn'tkilled?"

"That wasn't a cannon; it was only my little rifle, " said Tom, andthen he told again, for the benefit of the housekeeper, the story ofwhat had happened. 

"We'd better hurry and look around the premises, " suggested Mr. Jackson. "Maybe he is hiding, and will come back, or perhaps he hassome confederates on the watch. "

"Not much danger of that, " declared Tom. "Happy Harry is far enoughaway from here now, and so are his confederates, if he had any, which I doubt. Still, it will do no harm to take a look around. "

A search resulted in nothing, however, and the Swift household hadsoon settled down again, though no one slept soundly during theremainder of the night. 

In the morning Tom sent word of what had happened to the police ofShopton. Some officers came out to the house, but, beyond lookingwisely at the window by which the burglar had entered and at somefootprints in the garden, they could do nothing. Tom wanted to gooff on his motor-cycle on a tour of the surrounding neighborhood tosee if he could get any clues, but he did not think it would be wisein the absence of his father. He thought it would be better toremain at home, in case any further efforts were made to getpossession of valuable models or papers. 

"There's not much likelihood of that, though, " said Tom to the oldengineer. "Those fellows have what they want, and are not going tobother us again. I would like to get that model back for dad, though. If they file it and take out a patent, even if he can provethat it is his, it will mean a long lawsuit and he may be defraudedof his rights, after all. Possession is nine points of the law, andpart of the tenth, too, I guess. "

So Tom remained at home and busied himself as well as he could oversome new machines he was constructing. He got a telegram from hisfather that afternoon, stating that Mr. Swift had safely arrived inAlbany, and would return the following day. 

"Did you have any luck, dad?" asked the young inventor, when hisfather, tired and worn from the unaccustomed traveling, reached homein the evening. 

"Not much, Tom, " was the reply. "Mr. Crawford has gone back toWashington, and he is going to do what he can to prevent those mentaking advantage of me. "

"Did you get any trace of the thieves? Does Mr. Crawford think hecan?"

"No to both questions. His idea is that the men will remain inhiding for a while, and then, when the matter has quieted down, theywill proceed to get a patent on the motor that I invented. "

"But, in the meanwhile, can't you make another model and get apatent yourself?"

"No; there are certain legal difficulties in the way. Besides, thosemen have the original papers I need. As for the model, it will takeme nearly a year to build a new one that will work properly, as itis very complicated. I am afraid, Tom, that all my labor on theturbine motor is thrown away. Those scoundrels will reap the benefitof it. "

"Oh, I hope not, dad! I'm sure those fellows will be caught. Nowthat you are back home again, I'm going out on a hunt on my ownaccount. I don't put much faith in the police. It was through me, dad, that you lost your model and the papers, and I'll get themback!"

"No, you must not think it was your fault, Tom, " said his father. "You could not help it, though I appreciate your desire to recoverthe missing model. "

"And I'll do it, too, dad. I'll start to-morrow, and I'll make acomplete circuit of the country for a hundred miles around. I caneasily do it on my motor-cycle. If I can't get on the trail of thethree men who robbed me, maybe I can find Happy Harry. "

"I doubt it, my son. Still, you may try. Now I must write to Mr. Crawford and tell him about the attempted burglary while I was away. It may give him a clue to work on. I'm afraid you ran quite a risk, Tom. "

"I didn't think about that, dad. I only wish I had managed to keepthat rascal a prisoner. "

The next day Tom started off on a hunt. He planned to be goneovernight, as he intended to go first to Dunkirk, where Mr. Blackford lived, and begin his search from there. 

CHAPTER XX. 

ERADICATE SAWS WOOD

The farmer's family, including the son who was a deputy sheriff, wasglad to see Tom. Jed said he had "been on the job" ever since themysterious robbery of Tom had taken place, but though he had seenmany red automobiles he had no trace of the three men. 

From Dunkirk Tom went back over the route he had taken in going fromPompville to Centreford, and made some inquiries in the neighborhoodof the church shed, where he had taken shelter. The locality wassparsely settled, however, and no one could give any clues to therobbers. 

The young inventor next made a trip over the lonely, sandy road, where he had met with the tramp, Happy Harry. But there were evenfewer houses near that stretch than around the church, so he got nosatisfaction there. Tom spent the night at a country inn, andresumed his search the next morning, but with no results. The menhad apparently completely disappeared, leaving no traces behindthem. 

"I may as well go home, " thought Tom, as he was riding his motor-cyclealong a pleasant country road. "Dad may be worried, and perhapssomething has turned up in Shopton that will aid me. If there isn't, I'm going to start out again in a few days in another direction. "

There was no news in Shopton, however. Town found his fatherscarcely able to work, so worried was he over the loss of his mostimportant invention. 

Two weeks passed, the young machinist taking trips of several days'duration to different points near his home, in the hope ofdiscovering something. But he was unsuccessful, and, in themeanwhile, no reassuring word was received from the lawyers inWashington. Mr. Crawford wrote that no move had yet been made by thethieves to take out patent papers, and while this, in a sense, wassome aid to Mr. Swift, still he could not proceed on his own accountto protect his new motor. All that could be done was to await thefirst movement on the part of the scoundrels. 

"I think I'll try a new plan to-morrow, dad, " announced Tom onenight, when he and his father had talked over again, for perhaps thetwentieth time, the happenings of the last few weeks. 

"What is it, Tom?" asked the inventor. 

"Well, I think I'll take a week's trip on my machine. I'll visit allthe small towns around here, but, instead of asking in houses fornews of the tramp or his confederates, I'll go to the police andconstables. I'll ask if they have arrested any tramps recently, and, if they have, I'll ask them to let me see the 'hobo' prisoners. "

"What good will that do?"

"I'll tell you. I have an idea that though the burglar who got inhere may not be a regular tramp, yet he disguises himself like oneat times, and may be known to other tramps. If I can get on thetrail of Happy Harry, as he calls himself, I may locate the othermen. Tramps would be very likely to remember such a peculiar chap asHappy Harry, and they will tell me where they had last seen him. Then I will have a starting point. "

"Well, that may be a good plan, " assented Mr. Swift. "At any rate itwill do no harm to try. A tramp locked up in a country policestation will very likely be willing to talk. Go ahead with thatscheme, Tom, but don't get into any danger. How long will you beaway?"

"I don't know. A week, perhaps; maybe longer. I'll take plenty ofmoney with me, and stop at country hotels overnight. "

Tom lost no time in putting his plan into execution. He packed someclothes in a grip, which he attached to the rear of his motor-cycle, and then having said good-by to his father, started off. The firstthree days he met with no success. He located several tramps incountry lock-ups, where they had been sent for begging or loitering, but none of them knew Happy Harry or had ever heard of a trampanswering his description. 

"He ain't one of us, youse can make up your mind to dat, " said one"hobo" whom Tom interviewed. "No real knight of de highway goesaround in a disguise. We leaves dat for de story-book detectives. I'm de real article, I am, an' I don't know Happy Harry. But, ferdat matter, any of us is happy enough in de summer time, if we don'tstrike a burgh like dis, where dey jugs you fer panhandlin'. "

In general, Tom found the tramp willing enough to answer hisquestions, though some were sullen, and returned only surly growlsto his inquiries. 

"I guess I'll have to give it up and go back home, " he decided onenight. But there was a small town, not many miles from Shopton, which he had not yet visited, and he resolved to try there beforereturning. Accordingly, the next morning found him inquiring of thepolice authorities in Meadton. But no tramps had been arrested inthe last month, and no one had seen anything of a tramp like HappyHarry or three mysterious men in an automobile. 

Tom was beginning to despair. Riding along a silent road, thatpassed through a strip of woods, he was trying to think of some newline of procedure, when the silence of the highway, that, hitherto, had resounded only with the muffled explosions of his machine, wasbroken by several exclamations. 

"Now, Boomerang, yo' might jest as well start now as later, " Tom hearda voice saying--a voice he recognized well. "Yo' hab got t' do disyeah wuk, an' dere ain't no gittin' out ob it. Dis yeah wood am got tobe sawed, an' yo' hab got to saw it. But it am jest laik yo' to goback on yo' ole friend Eradicate in dis yeah fashion. I neber couldtell what yo' were gwine t' do next, an' I cain't now. G'lang, now, won't yo'? Let's git dis yeah sawmill started. "

Tom shut off the power and leaped from his wheel. From the woods athis left came the protesting "hee-haw" of a mule. 

"Boomerang and Eradicate Sampson!" exclaimed the young inventor. "What can they be doing here?"

He leaned his motor-cycle against the fence and advanced towardwhere he had heard the voice of the colored man. In a littleclearing he saw him. Eradicate was presiding over a portablesawmill, worked by a treadmill, on the incline of which was themule, its ears laid back, and an unmistakable expression of anger onits face. 

"Why, Rad, what are you doing?" cried Tom. 

"Good land o' massy! Ef it ain't young Mistah Swift!" cried thedarky. "Howdy, Mistah Swift! Howdy! I'm jest tryin' t' saw somewood, t' make a livin', but Boomerang he doan't seem t' want t'lib, " and with that Eradicate looked reproachfully at the animal. 

"What seems to be the trouble, and how did you come to own thissawmill?" asked Tom. 

"I'll tell yo', Mistah Swift, I'll tell yo', " spoke Eradicate. "Sitright yeah on dis log, an' I'll explanation it to yo'. "

"The last time I saw you, you were preparing to go into the grass-cuttingbusiness, " went on Tom. 

"Yais, sah! Dat's right. So I was. Yo' has got a memory, yo' suahhas. But it am dis yeah way. Grass ain't growin' quick enough, an'so I traded off dat lawn-moah an' bought dis yeah mill. But now itwon't go, an' I suah am in trouble, " and once more Eradicate Sampsonlooked indignantly at Boomerang. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

ERADICATE GIVES A CLUE

"Tell me all about it, " urged Tom sympathetically, for he had afriendly feeling toward the aged darky. 

"Well, " began Eradicate, "I suah thought I were gwine to make moneycuttin' grass, 'specially after yo' done fixed mah moah. But 'pearedlaik nobody wanted any grass cut. I trabeled all ober, an' Icouldn't git no jobs. Now me an' Boomerang has to eat, no mattah efhe is contrary, so I had t' look fo' some new wuk. I traded datlawn-moah off fo' a cross-cut saw, but dat was such hard wuk dat Igib it up. Den I got a chance to buy dis yeah outfit cheap, an' Ibought it. "

Eradicate then went on to tell how he had purchased the portablesawmill from a man who had no further use for it, and how he hadmanaged to transport it from a distant village to the spot where Tomhad met him. There he had secured permission to work a piece ofwoodland on shares, sawing up the smaller trees into cord wood. Hehad started in well enough, cutting down considerable timber, forthe colored man was a willing worker, but when he tried to start hismill he met with trouble. 

"I counted on Boomerang helpin' me, " he said to Tom. "All he has todo is walk on dat tread mill, an' keep goin'. Dat makes de saw go'round, an' I saws de wood. But de trouble am dat I can't gitBoomerang to move. I done tried ebery means I knows on, an' he won'tgo. I talked kind to him, an' I talked harsh. I done beat him wif aclub, an' I rub his ears soft laik, an' he allers did laik dat, buthe won't go. I fed him on carrots an' I gib him sugar, an' I ebenstarve him, but he won't go. Heah I been tryin' fo' three days nowt' git him started, an' not a stick hab I sawed. De man what I'mwukin' wif on shares he git mad, an' he say ef I doan't saw woodpretty soon he gwine t' git annuder mill heah. Now I axes yo' fair, Mistah Swift, ain't I got lots ob trouble?"

"You certainly seem to have, " agreed Tom "But why is Boomerang soobstinate? Usually on a treadmill a horse or a mule has to workwhether they like it or not. If they don't keep moving the platformslides out from under them, and they come up against the back bar. "

"Dat's what done happened to Boomerang, " declared Eradicate. "Hedone back up against de bar, an' dere he stay. "

Tom went over and looked at the mill. The outfit was an old one, andhad seen much service, but the trained eye of the young inventor sawthat it could still be used effectively. Boomerang watched Tom, asthough aware that something unusual was about to happen. 

"Heah I done gone an' 'vested mah money in dis yeah mill, "complained Eradicate, "an' I ain't sawed up a single stick. Ef Iwasn't so kind-hearted I'd chastise dat mule wuss dan I has, dat'swhat I would. "

Tom said nothing. He was stooping down, looking at the gearing thatconnected the tread mill with the shaft which revolved the saw. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation, "Rad, have you been monkeying with this machinery?" he asked. 

"Me? Good land, Mistah Swift, no, sah! I wouldn't tech it. It's jestas I got it from de man I bought it oh. It worked when he had it, but he used a hoss. It's all due to de contrariness ob Boomerang, an' if I--"

"No, it isn't the mule's fault at all!" exclaimed Tom. "The mill isout of gear, and tread is locked; that's all. The man you bought itoff probably did it so you could haul it along the road. I'll haveit fixed for you in a few minutes. Wait until I get some tools. "

From the bag on his motor-cycle Tom got his implements. He firstunlocked the treadmill, so that the inclined platform, on which theanimal slowly walked, could revolve. No sooner had he done this thanBoomerang, feeling the slats under his hoofs moving away, startedforward. With a rattle the treadmill slid around. 

"Good land o' massy! It's goin'!" cried Eradicate delightedly. "Itsuah am goin'!" he added as he saw the mule, with nimble feet, sendthe revolving, endless string of slats around and around. "But desaw doan't move, Mistah Swift. Yo' am pretty smart at fixin' it asmuch as yo' has, but I reckon it's too busted t' eber saw any wood. I'se got bad luck, dat's what I has. "

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Tom. "The sawmill will be going in a moment. All I have to do is to throw it into gear. See here, Rad. When youwant the saw to go you just throw this handle forward. That makesthe gears mesh. "

"What's dat 'bout mush?" asked Eradicate. 

"Mesh--not mush. I mean it makes the cogs fit together. See, " andTom pressed the lever. In an instant, with a musical whirr, the sawbegan revolving. 

"Hurrah! Dere it goes! Golly! see de saw move!" cried the delightedcolored man. He seized a stick of wood, and in a trice it was sawedthrough. 

"Whoop!" yelled Eradicate. "I'm sabed now! Bless yo', Mistah Swift, yo' suttinly am a wondah!"

"Now I'll show you how it works, " went on Tom. "When you want tostop Boomerang, you just pull this handle. That locks the tread, andhe can't move it, " and, suiting the action to his words, Tom stoppedthe mill. "Then, " he went on, "when you want him to move, you pullthe handle this way, " and he showed the darky how to do it. In amoment the mule was moving again. Then Tom illustrated how to throwthe saw in and out of gear, and in a few minutes the sawmill was infull operation, with a most energetic colored man feeding in logs tobe cut up into stove lengths. 

"You ought to have an assistant, Rad, " said Tom, after he hadwatched the work for a while. "You could get more done then, andmove on to some other wood-patch. "

"Dat's right, Mistah Swift, so I had. But I 'done tried, an'couldn't git any. I ast seberal colored men, but dey'd radderwhitewash an' clean chicken coops. I guess I'll hab t' go it alone. I ast a white man yisterday ef he wouldn't like t' pitch in an'help, but he said he didn't like to wuk. He was a tramp, an' he hadde nerve to ask me fer money--me, a hard-wukin' coon. "

"You didn't give it to him, I hope. "

"No, indeedy, but he come so close to me dat I was askeered he mighttake it from me, so I kept hold ob a club. He suah was a bad-lookin'tramp, an' he kept laffin' all de while, like he was happy. "

"What's that?" cried Tom, struck by the words of the colored man. "Did he have a thick, brown beard?"

"Dat's what he had, " answered Eradicate, pausing in the midst of hiswork. "He suah were a funny sort ob tramp. His hands done lookedlaik he neber wuked, an' he had a funny blue ring one finger, onlyit wasn't a reg'lar ring, yo' know. It was pushed right inter hisskin, laik a man I seen at de circus once, all cobered wid funnyfiggers. "

Tom leaped to his feet. 

"Which finger was the blue ring tattooed on?" he asked, and hewaited anxiously for the answer. 

"Let me see, it were on de right--no, it were on de little finger obde left hand. "

"Are you sure, Rad?"

"Suah, Mistah Swift. I took 'tic'lar notice, 'cause he carried astick in dat same hand. "

"It must be my man--Happy Harry!" exclaimed Tom half aloud. "Whichway did he go, Rad, after he left you?"

"He went up de lake shore, " replied the colored man. "He asked me ifI knowed ob an ole big house up dere, what nobody libed in, an' Isaid I did. Den he left, an' I were glad ob it. "

"Which house did you mean, Rad?"

"Why, dat ole mansion what General Harkness used t' lib in befo' dewah. Dere ain't nobody libed in it fo' some years now, an' it'sdeserted. Maybe a lot ob tramps stays in it, an' dat's where dis manwere goin'. "

"Maybe, " assented Tom, who was all excitement now. "Just where isthis old house, Rad?"

"Away up at de head ob Lake Carlopa. I uster wuk dere befo' de wah, but it's been a good many years since quality folks libed dere. Why, did yo' want t' see dat man, Mistah Swift?"

"Yes, Rad, I did, and very badly, too. I think he is the very personI want. But don't say anything about it. I'm going to take a trip upto that strange mansion. Maybe I'll get on the trail of Happy Harryand the men who robbed me. I'm much obliged to you, Rad, for thisinformation. It's a good clue, I think. Strange that you should meetthe very tramp I've been searching for. "

"Well, I suah am obliged to yo', Mistah Swift, fo' fixin' mahsawmill. "

"That's all right. What you told me more than pays for what I did, Rad. Well, I'm going home now to tell dad, and then I'm going to startout. Yesterday, you said it was, you saw Happy Harry? Well, I'll getright after him, " and leaving a somewhat surprised, but very muchdelighted, colored man behind him, Tom mounted his motor-cycle andstarted for home at a fast pace. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE STRANGE MANSION

"Dad, I've got a clue!" exclaimed Tom, hurrying into the house latethat afternoon, following a quick trip from where he had metEradicate with his sawmill. "A good clue, and I'm going to startearly in the morning to run it down. "

"Wait a minute, now, Tom, " cautioned his father slowly. "You knowwhat happens when you get excited. Nothing good was ever done in ahurry. "

"Well, I can't help being excited, dad. I think I'm on the trail ofthose scoundrels. I almost wish I could start to-night. "

"Suppose you tell me all about it, " and Mr. Swift laid aside ascientific book he was reading. 

Whereupon Tom told of his meeting with the colored man, and whatEradicate had said about the tramp. 

"But he may not be the same Happy Harry you are looking for, "interposed Mr. Swift. "Tramps who don't like to work, and who have ajolly disposition, also those who ask for money and have designstattooed on their hands, are very common. "

"Oh, but I'm sure this is the same one, " declared Tom. "He wants tostay in this neighborhood until he locates his confederates. That'swhy he's hanging around. Now I have an idea that the desertedmansion, where Eradicate used to work, and which once housed GeneralHarkness and his family, is the rendezvous of this gang of thieves. "

"You are taking a great deal for granted, Tom. "

"I don't think so, dad. I've got to assume something, and maybe I'mwrong, but I don't think so. At any rate, I'm going to try, ifyou'll let me. "

"What do you mean to do?"

"I want to go to that deserted mansion and see what I can find. If Ilocate the thieves, well--"

"You may run into danger. "

"Then you admit I may be on the right track, dad?"

"Not at all, " and Mr. Swift smiled at the quick manner in which Tomturned the tables on him. "I admit there may be a band of tramps inthat house. Very likely there is--almost any deserted place would beattractive to them. But they may not be the ones you seek. In fact, I hardly see how they can be. The men who stole my model and patentpapers are wealthy. They would not be very likely to stay indeserted houses. "

"Perhaps some of the scoundrels whom they hired might, and throughthem I can get on the track of the principals. "

"Well, there is something in that, " admitted Mr. Swift. 

"Then may I go, dad?"

"I suppose so. We must leave nothing untried to get back the stolenmodel and papers. But I don't want you to run any risks. If youwould only take some one with you. There's your chum, Ned Newton. Perhaps he would go. "

"No, I'd rather work it alone, dad. I'll be careful. Besides, Nedcould not get away from the bank. I may have to be gone a week, andhe has no motor-cycle. I can manage all right. "

Tom was off bright and early. He had carefully laid his plans, andhad decided that he would not go direct to Pineford, which was thenearest village to the old Harkness mansion. 

"If those fellows are in hiding they will probably keep watch on whocomes to the village, " thought Tom. "The arrival of some one on amotor-cycle will be sure to be reported to them, and they may skipout. I've got to come up from another direction, so I think I'llcircle around, and reach the mansion from the stretch of woods onthe north. "

He had inquired from Eradicate as to the lay of the land, and had agood general idea of it. He knew there was a patch of woodland onone side of the mansion, while the other sides were open. 

"I may not be able to ride through the woods, " mused Tom, "but I'lltake my machine as close as I can, and walk the rest of the way. Once I discover whether or not the gang is in the place, I'll knowwhat to do. "

To follow out the plan he had laid down for himself meant that Tommust take a roundabout way. It would necessitate being a whole dayon the road, before he would be near the head of Lake Carlopa, wherethe Harkness house was located. The lake was a large one, and Tomhad never been to the upper end. 

When he was within a few miles of Pineford, Tom took a road thatbranched off and went around it. Stopping at night in a lonelyfarmhouse, he pushed on the next morning, hoping to get to the woodsthat night. But a puncture to one of the tires delayed him, andafter that was repaired he discovered something wrong with hisbatteries. He had to go five miles out of his way to get new cells, and it was dusk when he came to the stretch of woods which he knewlay between him and the old mansion. 

"I don't fancy starting in there at night, " said Tom to himself. "Guess I'd better stay somewhere around here until morning, and thenventure in. But the question is where to stay?"

The country was deserted, and for a mile or more he had seen nohouses. He kept on for some distance farther, the dusk fallingrapidly, and when he was about to turn back to retrace his way tothe last farmhouse he had passed, he saw a slab shanty at the sideof the road. 

"That's better than nothing, provided they'll take me in for thenight, " murmured Tom. "I'm going to ask, anyhow. "

He found the shanty to be inhabited by an old man who made a livingburning charcoal. The place was not very attractive, but Tom did notmind that, and finding the charcoal-burner a kindly old fellow, soonmade a bargain with him to remain all night. 

Tom slept soundly, in spite of his strange surroundings, and after asimple breakfast in the morning inquired of the old man the best wayof penetrating the forest. 

"You'd best strike right along the old wood road, " said thecharcoal-burner. "That leads right to the lake, and I think willtake you where you want to go. The old mansion is not far from thelake shore. "

"Near the lake, eh?" mused Tom as he started off, after thanking theold fellow. "Now I wonder if I'd better try to get to it from thewater or the land side?"

He found it impossible to ride fast on the old wood road, and when hejudged he was so close to the lake that the noise of his motor-cyclemight be heard, he shut off the power, and walked along, pushingit. It was hard traveling, and he felt weary, but he kept on, andabout noon was rewarded by a sight of something glittering through thetrees. 

"That's the lake!" Tom exclaimed, half aloud. "I'm almost there. "

A little later, having hidden his motor-cycle in a clump of bushes, he made his way through the underbrush and stood on the shore ofLake Carlopa. Cautiously Tom looked about him. It was getting wellon in the afternoon, and the sun was striking across the broad sheetof water. Tom glanced up along the shore. Something amid a clump oftrees caught his eyes. It was the chimney of a house. The younginventor walked a little distance along the lake shore. Suddenly hesaw, looming up in the forest, a large building. It needed but aglance to show that it was falling into ruins, and had no signs oflife about it. Nor, for that matter, was there any life in theforest around him, or on the lake that stretched out before him. 

"I wonder if that can be the place?" whispered Tom, for, somehow, the silence of the place was getting on his nerves. "It must be it, "he went on. "It's just as Rad described it. "

He stood looking at it, the sun striking full on the mysteriousmansion, hidden there amid the trees. Suddenly, as Tom looked, heheard the "put-put" of a motor-boat. He turned to one side, and saw, putting out from a little dock that he had not noticed before, asmall craft. It contained one man, and no sooner had the younginventor caught a glimpse of him than he cried out:

"That's the man who jumped over our fence and escaped!"

Then, before the occupant of the boat could catch sight of him, Tomturned and fled back into the bushes, out of view. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

TOM IS PURSUED

Tom was so excited that he hardly knew what to do. His first thoughtwas to keep out of sight of the man in the boat, for the younginventor did not want the criminals to suspect that he was on theirtrail. To that end he ran back until he knew he could not be seenfrom the lake. There he paused and peered through the bushes. Hecaught a glimpse of the man in the motor-boat. The craft was makingfast time across the water. 

"He didn't see me, " murmured Tom. "Lucky I saw him first. Now whathad I better do?"

It was a hard question to answer. If he only had some one with whomto consult he would have felt better, but he knew he had to rely onhimself. Tom was a resourceful lad, and he had often before beenobliged to depend on his wits. But this time very much was at stake, and a false move might ruin everything. 

"This is certainly the house, " went on Tom, "and that man in theboat is one of the fellows who helped rob me. Now the next thing todo is to find out if the others of the gang are in the old mansion, and, if they are, to see if dad's model and papers are there. Thenthe next thing to do will be to get our things away, and I fancyI'll have no easy job. "

Well might Tom think this, for the men with whom he had to deal weredesperate characters, who had already dared much to accomplish theirends, and who would do more before they would suffer defeat. Still, they under-estimated the pluck of the lad who was pitted againstthem. 

"I might as well proceed on a certain plan, and have some systemabout this affair, " reasoned the lad. "Dad is a great believer insystem, so I'll lay out a plan and see how nearly I can follow it. Let's see--what is the first thing to do?"

Tom considered a moment, going over the whole situation in his mind. Then he went on, talking to himself alone there in the woods:

"It seems to me the first thing to do is to find out if the men arein the house. To do that I've got to get closer and look in througha window. Now, how to get closer?"

He considered that problem from all sides. 

"It will hardly do to approach from the lake shore, " he reasoned. "for if they have a motor-boat and a dock, there must be a path fromthe house to the water. If there is a path people are likely to walkup or down it at any minute. The man in the boat might come backunexpectedly and catch me. No, I can't risk approaching from thelake shore. I've got to work my way up to the house by going throughthe woods. That much is settled. Now to approach the house, and whenI get within seeing distance I'll settle the next point. One thingat a time is a good rule, as dad used to say. Poor dad! I do hope Ican get his model and papers back for him. "

Tom, who had been sitting on a log under a bush, staring at thelake, arose. He was feeling rather weak and faint, and was at a lossto account for it, until he remembered that he had had no dinner. 

"And I'm not likely to get any, " he remarked. "I'm not going to eatuntil I see who's in that house. Maybe I won't then, and wheresupper is coming from I don't know. But this is too important to beconsidered in the same breath with a meal. Here goes. "

Cautiously Tom made his way forward, taking care not to make toomuch disturbance in the bushes. He had been on hunting trips, andknew the value of silence in the woods. He had no paths to follow, but he had noted the position of the sun, and though that luminarywas now sinking lower and lower in the west, he could see the gleamof it through the trees, and knew in which direction from it lay thedeserted mansion. 

Tom moved slowly, and stopped every now and then to listen. All thesounds he heard were those made by the creatures of the woods--birds, squirrels and rabbits. He went forward for half an hour, thoughin that time he did not cover much ground, and he was just beginningto think that the house must be near at hand when through a fringeof bushes he saw the old mansion. It stood in the midst of whathad once been a fine park, but which was now overgrown with weedsand tangled briars. The paths that led to the house were almostout of sight, and the once beautiful home was partly in ruins. 

"I guess I can sneak up there and take a look in one of thewindows, " thought the young inventor. He was about to advance, whenhe suddenly stopped. He heard some one or some thing coming aroundthe corner of the mansion. A moment later a man came into view, andTom easily recognized him as one of those who had been in theautomobile. The heart of the young inventor beat so hard that he wasafraid the man would hear it, and Tom crouched down in the bushes tokeep out of sight. The man evidently did not suspect the presence ofa stranger, for, though he cast sharp glances into the tangledundergrowth that fringed the house like a hedge, he did not seek toinvestigate further. He walked slowly on, making a circuit of thegrounds. Tom remained hidden for several minutes, and was about toproceed again, when the man reappeared. Then Tom saw the reason forit. 

"He's on guard!" the lad said to himself. "He's doing sentry duty. Ican't approach the house when he's there. "

For an instant Tom felt a bitter disappointment. He had hoped to beable to carry out his plan as he had mapped it. Now he would have tomake a change. 

"I'll have to wait until night, " he thought. "Then I can sneak upand look in. The guard won't see me after dark. But it's going to beno fun to stay here, without anything to eat. Still, I've got to doit. "

He remained where he was in the bushes. Several times, before thesun set, the man doing sentry duty made the circuit of the house, and Tom noted that occasionally he was gone for a long period. Hereasoned that the man had gone into the mansion to confer with hisconfederates. 

"If I only knew what was going on in there, " thought Tom. "Maybe, after all, the men haven't got the model and papers here. Yet, ifthey haven't, why are they staying in the old house? I must get alook in and see what's going on. Lucky there are no shades to thewindows. I wish it would get dark. "

It seemed that the sun would never go down and give place to dusk, but finally Tom, crouching in his hiding place, saw the shadows growlonger and longer, and finally the twilight of the woods gave placeto a density that was hard to penetrate. Tom waited some time to seeif the guard kept up the circuit, but with the approach of night theman seemed to have gone into the house. Tom saw a light gleam outfrom the lonely mansion. It came from a window on the ground floor. 

"There's my chance!" exclaimed the lad, and, crawling from hishiding place, he advanced cautiously toward it. 

Tom went forward only a few feet at a time, pausing almost everyother step to listen. He heard no sounds, and was reassured. Nearerand nearer he came to the old house. The gleam of the light fellupon his face, and fearful that some one might be looking from thewindow, he shifted his course, so as to come up from one side. Slowly, very slowly he advanced, until he was right under thewindow. Then he found that it was too high up to admit of hislooking in. He felt about until he had a stone to stand on. 

Softly he drew himself up inch by inch. He could hear the murmur ofvoices in the room. Now the top of his head was on a level with thesill. A few more inches and his eyes could take in the room and theoccupants. He was scarcely breathing. Up, up he raised himself untilhe could look into the apartment, and the sight which met his eyesnearly caused him to lose his hold and topple backward. For groupedaround a table in a big room were the three men whom he had seen inthe automobile. But what attracted his attention more than the sightof the men was an object on the table. It was the stolen model! Themen were inspecting it, and operating it, as he could see. One ofthe trio had a bundle of papers in his hand, and Tom was sure theywere the ones stolen from him. But there could be no doubt about themodel of the turbine motor. There it was in plain sight. He hadtracked the thieves to their hiding place. 

Then, as he watched, Tom saw one of the men produce from under thetable a box, into which the model was placed. The papers were nextput in, and a cover was nailed on. Then the men appeared to consultamong themselves. 

By their gestures Tom concluded that they were debating where tohide the box. One man pointed toward the lake, and another towardthe forest. Tom was edging himself up farther, in order to seebetter, and, if possible, catch their words, when his foot slipped, and he made a slight noise. Instantly the men turned toward thewindow, but Tom had stooped down out of sight, just in time. 

A moment later, however, he heard some one approaching through thewoods behind him, and a voice called out:

"What are you doing? Get away from there!"

Rapid footsteps sounded, and Tom, in a panic, turned and fled, withan unknown pursuer after him. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

UNEXPECTED HELP

Tom rushed on through the woods. The lighted room into which he hadbeen looking had temporarily blinded him when it came to plunginginto the darkness again, and he could not see where he was going. Hecrashed full-tilt into a tree, and was thrown backward. Bruised andcut, he picked himself up and rushed off in another direction. Fortunately he struck into some sort of a path, probably one made bycows, and then, as his eyes recovered their faculties, he coulddimly distinguish the trees on either side of him and avoid them. 

His heart, that was beating fiercely, calmed down after his firstfright, and when he had run on for several minutes he stopped. 

"That--that must--have been--the--the man--from the boat, " pantedour hero, whispering to himself. "He came back and saw me. I wonderif he's after me yet?"

Tom listened. The only sound he could hear was the trill and chirpof the insects of the woods. The pursuit, which had lasted only afew minutes, was over. But it might be resumed at any moment. Tomwas not safe yet, he thought, and he kept on. 

"I wonder where I am? I wonder where my motor-cycle is? I wonderwhat I had better do?" he asked himself. 

Three big questions, and no way of settling them; Tom pulled himselfup sharply. 

"I've got to think this thing out, " he resumed. "They can't find mein these woods to-night, that's sure, unless they get dogs, andthey're not likely to do that. So I'm safe that far. But that'sabout all that is in my favor. I won't dare to go back to the house, even if I could find it in this blackness, which is doubtful. Itwouldn't be safe, for they'll be on guard now. It looks as though Iwas up against it. I'm afraid they may imagine the police are afterthem, and go away. If they do, and take the model and papers withthem, I'll have an awful job to locate them again, and probably Iwon't be able to. That's the worst of it. Here I have everythingright under my hands, and I can't do a thing. If I only had some oneto help me; some one to leave on guard while I went for the police. I'm one against three--no, four, for the man in the boat is back. Let's see what can I do?"

Then a sudden plan came to him. 

"The lake shore!" he exclaimed, half aloud. "I'll go down there andkeep watch. If they escape they'll probably go in the boat, for theywouldn't venture through the woods at night. That's it. I'll watchon shore, and if they do leave in the boat--" He paused again, undecided. "Why, if they do, " he finished, "I'll sing out, and makesuch a row that they'll think the whole countryside is after them. That may drive them back, or they may drop the box containing thepapers and model, and cut for it. If they do I'll be all right. Idon't care about capturing them, if I can get dad's model back. "

He felt more like himself, now that he had mapped out another plan. 

"The first thing to do is to locate the lake, " reasoned Tom. "Let'ssee; I ran in a straight line away from the house--that is, asnearly straight as I could. Now if I turn around and go straightback, bearing off a little to the left, I ought to come to thewater. I'll do it. "

But it was not so easy as Tom imagined, and several times he foundhimself in the midst of almost impenetrable bushes. He kept on, however, and soon had the satisfaction of emerging from the woodsout on the shore of the lake. Then, having gotten his bearings aswell as he could in the darkness, he moved down until he was nearthe deserted house. The light was still showing from the window, andTom judged by this that the men had not taken fright and fled. 

"I suppose I could sneak down and set the motor-boat adrift, " heargued. "That would prevent them leaving by way of the lake, anyhow. That's what I'll do! I'll cut off one means of escape. I'll set theboat adrift!"

Very cautiously he advanced toward where he had seen the small craftput out. He was on his guard, for he feared the men would be on thewatch, but he reached the dock in safety, and was loosening the ropethat tied the boat to the little wharf when another thought came tohim. 

"Why set this boat adrift?" he reasoned. "It is too good a boat totreat that way, and, besides, it will make a good place for me tospend the rest of the night. I've got to stay around here untilmorning, and then I'll see if I can't get help. I'll justappropriate this boat for my own use. They have dad's model, andI'll take their boat. "

Softly he got into the craft, and with an oar which was kept in itto propel it in case the engine gave out, he poled it along theshore of the lake until he was some distance away from the dock. 

That afternoon he had seen a secluded place along the shore, a spotwhere overhanging bushes made a good hiding place, and for this heheaded the craft. A little later it was completely out of sight, andTom stretched out on the cushioned seats, pulling a tarpaulin overhim. There he prepared to spend the rest of the night. 

"They can't get away except through the woods now, which I don'tbelieve they'll do, " he thought, "and this is better for me thanstaying out under a tree. I'm glad I thought of it. "

The youth, naturally, did not pass a very comfortable night, thoughhis bed was not a half bad one. He fell into uneasy dozes, only toarouse, thinking the men in the old mansion were trying to escape. Then he would sit up and listen, but he could hear nothing. Itseemed as if morning would never come, but at length the stars beganto fade, and the sky seemed overcast with a filmy, white veil. Tomsat up, rubbed his smarting eyes, and stretched his cramped limbs. 

"Oh, for a hot cup of coffee!" he exclaimed. "But not for mine, until I land these chaps where they belong. Now the question is, howcan I get help to capture them?"

His hunger was forgotten in this. He stepped from the boat to asecluded spot on the shore. The craft, he noted, was well hidden. 

"I've got to go back to where I left my motor-cycle, jump on that, and ride for aid, " he reasoned. "Maybe I can get the charcoal-burnerto go for me, while I come back and stand guard. I guess that wouldbe the best plan. I certainly ought to be on hand, for there is notelling when these fellows will skip out with the model, if theyhaven't gone already. I hate to leave, yet I've got to. It's theonly way. I wish I'd done as dad suggested, and brought help. Butit's too late for that. Well, I'm off. "

Tom took a last look at the motor-boat, which was a fine one. Hewished it was his. Then he struck through the woods. He had hisbearings now, and was soon at the place where he had left hismachine. It had not been disturbed. He caught a glimpse of the oldmansion on his way out of the woods. There appeared to be no onestirring about it. 

"I hope my birds haven't flown!" he exclaimed, and the thought gavehim such uneasiness that he put it from him. Pushing his heavymachine ahead of him until he came to a good road, he mounted it, and was soon at the charcoal-burner's shack. There came no answer tohis knock, and Tom pushed open the door. The old man was not in. Tomcould not send him for help. 

"My luck seems to be against me!" he murmured. "But I can getsomething to eat here, anyhow. I'm almost starved!"

He found the kitchen utensils, and made some coffee, also fryingsome bacon and eggs. Then, feeling much refreshed, and having lefton the table some money to pay for the inroad he had made on thevictuals, he started to go outside. 

As our hero stepped to the door he was greeted by a savage growlthat made him start in alarm. 

"A dog!" he mused. "I didn't know there was one around. "

He looked outside and there, to his dismay, saw a big, savage-appearing bulldog standing close to where he had left hismotor-cycle. The animal had been sniffing suspiciously at the machine. 

"Good dog!" called Tom. "Come here!"

But the bulldog did not come. Instead the beast stood still, showedhis teeth to Tom and growled in a low tone. 

"Wonder if the owner can be near?" mused the young inventor. "Thatdog won't let me get my machine, I am afraid. "

Tom spoke to the animal again and again the dog growled and showedhis teeth. He next made a move as if to leap into the house, and Tomquickly stepped back and banged shut the door. 

"Well, if this isn't the worst yet!" cried the youth to himself. "Here, just at the time I want to be off, I must be held up by sucha brute as that outside. Wonder how long he'll keep me a prisoner?"

Tom went to a window and peered out. No person had appeared and thelad rightly surmised that the bulldog had come to the cottage alone. The beast appeared to be hungry, and this gave Tom a sudden idea. 

"Maybe if I feed him, he'll forget that I am around and give me achance to get away, " he reasoned. "Guess I had better try that dodgeon him. "

Tom looked around the cottage and at last found the remains of achicken dinner the owner had left behind. He picked up some of thebones and called the bulldog. The animal came up rathersuspiciously. Tom threw him one bone, which he proceeded to crunchup vigorously. 

"He's hungry right enough, " mused Tom. "I guess he'd like to samplemy leg. But he's not going to do it--not if I can help it. "

At the back of the cottage was a little shed, the door to whichstood open. Tom threw a bone near to the door of this shed and thenmanaged to throw another bone inside the place. The bulldog foundthe first bone and then disappeared after the second. 

"Now is my time, I guess, " the young inventor told himself, andwatching his chance, he ran from the cottage toward his motor-cycle. He made no noise and quickly shoved the machine into the roadway. Just as he turned on the power the bulldog came out of the shed, barking furiously. 

"You've missed it!" said Tom grimly as the machine started, andquickly the cottage and the bulldog were left behind. The road wasrough for a short distance and he had to pay strict attention towhat he was doing. 

"I've got to ride to the nearest village, " he said. "It's a longdistance, and, in the meanwhile, the men may escape. But I can't doanything else. I dare not tackle them alone, and there is no tellingwhen the charcoal-burner may come back. I've got to make speed, that's all. "

Out on the main road the lad sent his machine ahead at a fast pace. He was fairly humming along when, suddenly, from around a curve inthe highway he heard the "honk-honk" of an automobile horn. For aninstant his heart failed him. 

"I wonder if those are the thieves? Maybe they have left the house, and are in their auto!" he whispered as he slowed down his machine. 

The automobile appeared to have halted. As Tom came nearer the turnhe heard voices. At the sound of one he started. The voiceexclaimed:

"Bless my spectacles! What's wrong now? I thought that when I got thisautomobile I would enjoy life, but it's as bad as my motor-cycle wasfor going wrong! Bless my very existence, but has anything happened?"

"Mr. Damon!" exclaimed Tom, for he recognized the eccentricindividual of whom he had obtained the motor-cycle. 

The next moment Tom was in sight of a big touring car, containing, not only Mr. Damon, whom Tom recognized at once, but three othergentlemen. 

"Oh, Mr. Damon, " cried Tom, "will you help me capture a gang ofthieves? They are in a deserted mansion in the woods, and they haveone of my father's patent models! Will you help me, Mr. Damon?"

"Why, bless my top-knots, " exclaimed the odd gentleman. "If it isn'tTom Swift, the young inventor! Bless my very happiness! There's mymotor-cycle, too! Help you? Why, of course we will. Bless myshoe-leather! Of course we'll help you!"

CHAPTER XXV. 

THE CAPTURE--GOOD-BY

Tom's story was soon told, and Mr. Damon quickly explained to hisfriends in the automobile how he had first made the acquaintance ofthe young inventor. 

"But how does it happen that you are trusting yourself in a car likethis?" asked Tom. "I thought you were done with gasolene machines, Mr. Damon. "

"I thought so, too, Tom, but, bless my batteries, my doctor insistedthat I must get out in the open air. I'm too stout to walk, and Ican't run. The only solution was in an automobile, for I never woulddream of a motor-cycle. I wonder that one of mine hasn't run awaywith you and killed you. But there! My automobile is nearly as bad. We went along very nicely yesterday, and now, just when I have aparty of friends out, something goes wrong. Bless my liver! I doseem to have the worst luck!"

Tom lost no time in looking for the trouble. He found it in theignition, and soon had it fixed. Then a sort of council of war washeld. 

"Do you think those scoundrels are there yet?" asked Mr. Damon. 

"I hope so, " answered Tom. 

"So do I, " went on the odd character. "Bless my soul, but I want achance to pummel them. Come, gentlemen, let's be moving. Will youride with us, Tom Swift, or on that dangerous motor-cycle?"

"I think I'll stick to my machine, Mr. Damon. I can easily keep upwith you. "

"Very well. Then we'll get along. We'll proceed until we get closeto the old mansion, and then some of us will go down to the lakeshore, and the rest of us will surround the house. We'll catch thevillains red-handed, and I hope we bag that tramp among them. "

"I hardly think he is there, " said Tom. 

In a short time the auto and the motor-cycle had carried therespective riders to the road through the woods. There the machineswere left, and the party proceeded on foot. Tom had a revolver withhim, and one member of Mr. Damon's party also had a small one, moreto scare dogs than for any other purpose. Tom gave his weapon to oneof the men, and cut a stout stick for himself, an example followedby those who had no firearms. 

"A club for mine!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "The less I have to do withmachinery the better I like it. Now, Tom Swift is just the other wayaround, " he explained to his friends. 

Cautiously they approached the house, and when within seeingdistance of it they paused for a consultation. There seemed to be noone stirring about the old mansion, and Tom was fearful lest the menhad left. But this could not be determined until they came closer. Two of Mr. Damon's friends elected to go down to the shore of thelake and prevent any escape in that direction, while the others, including Tom, were to approach from the wood side. When the two whowere to form the water attacking party were ready, one of them wasto fire his revolver as a signal. Then Tom, Mr. Damon and the otherswould rush in. 

The young inventor, Mr. Damon, and his friend, whom he addressed asMr. Benson, went as close to the house as they considered prudent. Then, screening themselves in the bushes, they waited. Theyconversed in whispers, Tom giving more details of his experiencewith the patent thieves. 

Suddenly the silence of the woods was broken by some one advancingthrough the underbrush. 

"Bless my gaiters, some one is coming!" exclaimed Mr. Damon in ahoarse whisper. "Can that be Munson or Dwight coming back?" Hereferred to his two friends who had gone to the lake. 

"Or perhaps the fellows are escaping, " suggested Mr. Benson. "Suppose we take a look. "

At that moment the person approaching, whoever he was, began tosing. Tom started. 

"I'll wager that's Happy Harry, the tramp!" he exclaimed. "I knowhis voice. "

Cautiously Tom peered over the screen of bushes. 

"Who is it?" asked Mr. Damon. 

"It's Happy Harry!" said Tom. "We'll get them all, now. He's goingup to the house. "

They watched the tramp. All unconscious of the eyes of the men andboy in the bushes, he kept on. Presently the door of the houseopened, and a man came out. Tom recognized him as Anson Morse--theperson who had dropped the telegram. 

"Say, Burke, " called the man at the door, "have you taken themotor-boat?"

"Motor-boat? No, " answered the tramp. "I just came here. I've had ahard time--nearly got caught in Swift's house the other night bythat cub of a boy. Is the boat gone?"

"Yes. Appleson came back in it last night and saw some one lookingin the window, but we thought it was only a farmer and chased himaway. This morning the boat's gone. I thought maybe you had taken itfor a joke. "

"Not a bit of it! Something's wrong!" exclaimed Happy Harry. "We'dbetter light out. I think the police are after us. That young Swiftis too sharp for my liking. We'd better skip. I don't believe thatwas a farmer who looked in the window. Tell the others, get thestuff, and we'll leave this locality. "

"They're here still, " whispered Tom. "That's good!"

"I wonder if Munson and Dwight are at the lake yet?" asked Mr. Damon. "They ought to be--"

At that instant a pistol shot rang out. The tramp, after a hastyglance around, started on the run for the house. The man in thedoorway sprang out. Soon two others joined him. 

"Who fired that shot?" cried Morse. 

"Come on, Tom!" cried Mr. Damon, grabbing up his club and springingfrom the bushes. "Our friends have arrived!" The young inventor andMr. Benson followed him. 

No sooner had they come into the open space in front of the housethan they were seen. At the same instant, from the rear, in thedirection of the lake, came Mr. Munson and Mr. Dwight. 

"We're caught!" cried Happy Harry. 

He made a dash far the house, just as a man, carrying a box, rushedout. 

"There it is! The model and papers are in that box!" cried Tom. "Don't let them get away with it!"

The criminals were taken by surprise. With leveled weapons theattacking party closed in on them. Mr. Damon raised his clubthreateningly. 

"Surrender! Surrender!" he cried. "We have you! Bless my stars, butyou're captured! Surrender!"

"It certainly looks so, " admitted Anson Morse. "I guess they haveus, boys. "

The man with the box made a sudden dash toward the woods, but Tomwas watching him. In an instant he sprang at him, and landed on thefellow's back. The two went down in a heap, and when Tom arose hehad possession of the precious box. 

"I have it! I have it!" he cried. "I've got dad's model back!"

The man who had had possession of the box quickly arose, and, beforeany one could stop him, darted into the bushes. 

"After him! Catch him! Bless my hat-band, stop him!" shouted Mr. Damon. 

Instinctively his friends turned to pursue the fugitive, forgetting, for the instant, the other criminals. The men were quick to takeadvantage of this, and in a moment had disappeared in the densewoods. Nor could any trace be found of the one with whom Tom hadstruggled. 

"Pshaw! They got away from us!" cried Mr. Damon regretfully. "Let'ssee if we can't catch them. Come on, we'll organize a posse and runthem down. " He was eager for the chase, but his companions dissuadedhim. Tom had what he wanted, and he knew that his father wouldprefer not to prosecute the men. The lad opened the box, and sawthat the model and papers were safe. 

"Let those fellows go, " advised the young inventor, and Mr. Damonreluctantly agreed to this. "I guess we've seen the last of them, "added the youth, but he and Mr. Swift had not, for the criminalsmade further trouble, which will be told of in the second volume ofthis series, to be called "Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat; or, TheRivals of Lake Carlopa. " In that our hero will be met in adventureseven more thrilling than those already related, and Andy Foger, whoso nearly ran Tom down in the automobile, will have a part in them. 

"Now, " said Mr. Damon, after it had been ascertained that no one wasinjured, and that the box contained all of value that had beenstolen, "I suppose you are anxious to get back home, Tom, aren'tyou? Will you let me take you in my car? Bless my spark plug, butI'd like to have you along in case of another accident!"

The lad politely declined, however, and, with the valuable model andpapers safe on his motor-cycle, he started for Shopton. Arriving atthe first village after leaving the woods, Tom telephoned the goodnews to his father, and that afternoon was safely at home, to thedelight of Mr. Swift and Mrs. Baggert. 

The inventor lost no time in fully protecting his invention bypatents. As for the unprincipled men who made an effort to secureit, they had so covered up their tracks that there was no way ofprosecuting them, nor could any action be held against Smeak &Katch, the unscrupulous lawyers. 

"Well, " remarked Mr. Swift to Tom, a few nights after the recoveryof the model, "your motor-cycle certainly did us good service. Hadit not been for it I might never have gotten back my invention. "

"Yes, it did come in handy, " agreed the young inventor. "There'sthat motor-boat, too. I wish I had it. I don't believe those fellowswill ever come back for it. I turned it over to the countyauthorities, and they take charge of it for a while. I certainly hadsome queer adventures since I got this machine from Mr. Damon, "concluded Tom. I think my readers will agree with him. 

THE END