Ned Sees Mysterious Men
"Who were those fellows?" asked the balloonist, of his companion.
"Oh, some chaps who think we'll never build our airship, Mr. Sharp.
Andy Foger, and his crowd."
"Well, we'll show them whether we will or not," rejoined the man.
"I've just thought of one point where we made a mistake. Your father
suggested it to me. We need a needle valve in the gas tank. Then we can
control the flow of vapor better."
"Of course!" cried Tom. "Why didn't I think of that? Let's try it." And
the pair hurried into the machine shop, eager to make another test,
which they hoped would be more successful.
The young inventor, for Tom Swift was entitled to that title, having
patented several machines, lived with his father, Barton Swift, on the
outskirts of the small town of Shopton, in New York State. Mr. Swift
was quite wealthy, having amassed a considerable fortune from several
of his patents, as he was also an inventor. Tom's mother had been dead
since he was a small child, and Mrs. Baggert kept house for the widower
and his son. There was also, in their household, an aged engineer,
named Garret Jackson, who attended to the engine and boilers that
operated machinery and apparatus in several small shops that surrounded
the Swift homestead; for Mr. Swift did most of his work at home.
As related in the first volume of this series, entitled "Tom Swift and
His Motor-Cycle," the lad had passed through some strenuous adventures.
A syndicate of rich men, disappointed in a turbine motor they had
acquired from a certain inventor, hired a gang of scoundrels to get
possession of a turbine Mr. Swift had invented. Just before they made
the attempt, however, Tom became possessed of a motor-cycle. It had
belonged to a wealthy man, Mr. Wakefield Damon, of Waterford, near Lake
Carlopa, which body of water adjoined the town of Shopton; but Mr.
Damon had two accidents with the machine, and sold it to Tom cheap. Tom
was riding his motorcycle to Albany, to deliver his father's model of
the turbine motor to a lawyer, in order to get a patent on it, when he
was attacked by the gang of bad men. These included Ferguson Appleson,
Anson Morse, Wilson Featherton, alias Simpson, Jake Burke, alias Happy
Harry, who sometimes masqueraded as a tramp, and Tod Boreck, alias
Murdock. These men knocked Tom unconscious, stole the valuable model
and some papers, and carried the youth away in their automobile.
Later the young inventor, following a clue given him by Eradicate
Sampson, an aged colored man, who, with his mule, Boomerang, went about
the country doing odd jobs, got on the trail of the thieves in a
deserted mansion in the woods at the upper end of the lake. Our hero,
with the aid of Mr. Damon, and some friends of the latter, raided the
old house, but the men escaped.
In the second book of the series, called "Tom Swift and His
Motor-Boat," there was related the doings of the lad, his father and
his chum, Ned Newton, on Lake Carlopa. Tom bought at auction, a
motor-boat the thieves had stolen and damaged, and, fixing it up, made
a speedy craft of it so speedy, in fact that it beat the racing-boat
Red Streak--owned by Andy Foger. But Tom did more than race in his
boat. He took his father on a tour for his health, and, during Mr.
Swift's absence from home, the gang of bad men stole some of the
inventor's machinery. Tom set out after them in his motor boat, but the
scoundrels even managed to steal that, hoping to get possession of a
peculiar and mysterious treasure in it, and Tom had considerable
trouble.
Among other things he did when he had his craft, was to aid a Miss Mary
Nestor, who, in her cousin's small boat, the Dot, was having trouble
with the engine, and you shall hear more of Miss Nestor presently, for
she and Tom became quite friendly. Events so shaped themselves that
Andy Foger was glad to loan Tom the Red Streak in which to search for
the stolen Arrow, and it was in the later craft that Tom, his father
and Ned Newton had a most thrilling adventure.
They were on their way down the lake when, in the air overhead they saw
a balloon on fire, with a man clinging to the trapeze. They managed to
save the fellow's life, after a strenuous endeavor. The balloonist,
John Sharp, was destined to play quite a part in Tom's life.
Mr. Sharp was more than an aeronaut--he was the inventor of an
airship--that is, he had plans drawn for the more important parts, but
he had struck a "snag of clouds," as he expressed it, and could not
make the machine work. His falling in with Mr. Swift and his son seemed
providential, for Tom and his father were at once interested in the
project for navigating the upper air. They began a study of Mr. Sharp's
plans, and the balloonist was now in a fair way to have the difficulty
solved.
His airship was, primarily an aeroplane, but with a sustaining aluminum
container, shaped like a cigar, and filled with a secret gas, made
partly of hydrogen, being very light and powerful. It was testing the
effect of this gas on a small model of the aluminum container that the
explosion, told of in the first chapter, occurred. In fact it was only
one of several explosions, but, as Tom said, all the while they were
eliminating certain difficulties, until now the airship seemed almost a
finished thing. But a few more details remained to be worked out, and
Mr. Swift and his son felt that they could master these.
So it was with a feeling of no little elation, that the young inventor
followed Mr. Sharp into the shop. The balloonist, it may be explained,
had been invited to live with the Swifts pending the completion of the
airship.
"Do you think we'll get on the right track if we put the needle valve
in?" asked Tom, as he noted with satisfaction that the damage from the
explosion was not great.
"I'm sure we will," answered the aeronaut. "Now let's make another
model container, and try the gas again."
They set to work, with Mr. Swift helping them occasionally, and Garret
Jackson, the engineer, lending a hand whenever he was needed. All that
afternoon work on the airship progressed. The joint inventors of it
wanted to be sure that the sustaining gas bag, or aluminum container,
would do its work properly, as this would hold them in the air, and
prevent accidents, in case of a stoppage of the engine or propellers.
The aeroplane part of the airship was all but finished, and the motor,
a powerful machine, of new design, built by Mr. Swift, was ready to be
installed.
All that afternoon Tom, his father and Mr. Sharp labored in the shop.
As it grew dusk there sounded from the house the ringing of a bell.
"Supper time," remarked Tom, laying aside a wrench. "I wish Mrs.
Baggert would wait about an hour. I'd have this valve nearly done,
then."
But the housekeeper was evidently not going to wait, for her voice
supplemented the bell.
"Supper! Sup-per!" she called. "Come now, Mr. Swift; Tom, Mr. Sharp! I
can't wait any longer! The meat and potatoes will be spoiled!"
"I s'pose we'd better go in," remarked Mr. Sharp, with something of a
sigh. "We can finish to-morrow."
The shop, where certain parts of the airship were being made, was
doubly locked, and Jackson, the engineer, who was also a sort of
watchman, was bidden to keep good guard, for the fear of the gang of
unscrupulous men, who had escaped from jail during a great storm, was
still in the minds of Mr. Swift and his son.
"And give an occasional look in the shed, where the aeroplane is,"
advised Mr. Sharp. "It wouldn't take much to damage that, now."
"I'll pay particular attention to it," promised the engineer. "Don't
worry, Mr. Sharp."
After supper the three gathered around the table on which were spread
out sheets of paper, covered with intricate figures and calculations,
which Mr. Swift and the balloonist went over with care. Tom was
examining some blue prints, which gave a sectional view of the proposed
ship, and was making some measurements when the bell rang, and Mrs.
Baggert ushered in Ned Newton, the most particular chum of the young
inventor.
"Hello, Ned!" exclaimed Tom. "I was wondering what had become of you.
Haven't seen you in a dog's age."
"That's right," admitted Ned. "We've been working late nights at the
bank. Getting ready for the regular visit of the examiner, who usually
comes along about this time. Well, how are things going; and how is the
airship?" for, of course, Ned had heard of that.
"Oh, pretty good. Had another explosion to-day, I s'pose you heard."
"No, I hadn't."
"I thought everyone in town had, for Andy Foger and his two cronies
were on hand, and they usually tell all they know."
"Oh, Andy Foger! He makes me sick! He was scooting up the street in his
auto just as I was coming in, 'honking-honking' his horn to beat the
band! You'd think no one ever had an auto but him. He certainly was
going fast."
"Wait until I get in our airship," predicted Tom. "Then I'll show you
what speed is!"
"Do you really think it will go fast?"
"Of course it will! Fast enough to catch Anson Morse and his crowd of
scoundrels if we could get on their track."
"Why, I thought they were in jail," replied Ned, in some surprise.
"Weren't they arrested after they stole your boat?"
"Yes, and put in jail, but they managed to get out, and now they're
free to make trouble for us again."
"Are you sure they're out of jail?" asked Ned, and Tom noted that his
chum's face wore an odd look.
"Sure? Of course I am. But why do you ask?"
Ned did not answer for a moment. He glanced at Tom's father, and the
young inventor understood. Mr. Swift was getting rather along in age,
and his long years of brain work had made him nervous. He had a great
fear of Morse and his gang, for they had made much trouble for him in
the past. Tom appreciated his chum's hesitancy, and guessed that Ned
had something to say that he did not want Mr. Swift to hear.
"Come on up to my room, Ned. I've got something I want to show you,"
exclaimed Tom, after a pause.
The two lads left the room, Tom glancing apprehensively at his father.
But Mr. Swift was so engrossed, together with the aeronaut, in making
some calculations regarding wind pressure, that it is doubtful if
either of the men were aware that the boys had gone.
"Now what is it, Ned?" demanded our hero, when they were safe in his
apartment. "Something's up. I can tell by your manner. What is it?"
"Maybe it's nothing at all," went on his chum. "If I had known, though
that those men had gotten out of jail, I would have paid more attention
to what I saw to-night, as I was leaving the bank to come here."
"What did you see?" demanded Tom, and his manner, which had been calm,
became somewhat excited.
"Well, you know I've been helping the paying-teller straighten up his
books," went on the young bank employee, "and when I came out to-night,
after working for several hours, I was glad enough to hurry away from
the 'slave-den,' as I call it. I almost ran up the street, not looking
where I was going, when, just as I turned the corner, I bumped into a
man."
"Nothing suspicious or wonderful in that," commented Tom. "I've often
run into people."
"Wait," advised Ned. "To save myself from falling I grabbed the man's
arm. He did the same to me, and there we stood, for a moment, right
under a gas lamp. I looked down at his hands, and I saw that on the
little finger of the left one there was tattooed a blue ring, and--"
"Happy Harry--the tramp!" exclaimed Tom, now much excited. "That's
where he wears a tattooed ring!"
"That's what I thought you had told me," resumed Ned, "but I didn't pay
any attention to it at the time, as I had no idea that the men were out
of jail."
"Well, what else happened?" inquired Tom
"Not much more. I apologized to the man, and he to me, and we let go of
each other."
"Are you sure about the ring on his finger?"
"Positive. His hand was right in the light. But wait, that isn't all.
I hurried on, not thinking much about it, when, I saw another man step
out of the dark shadows of Peterby's grocery, just beyond the bank.
The man must have mistaken me for some one else, for he spoke to me."
"What did he say?"
"He asked me a question. It was: 'Is there any chance to-night?'"
"What did you tell him?"
"Well, I was so surprised that I didn't know what to say, and, before I
could get my wits together the man had seen his mistake and hurried on.
He joined the man I had collided with, and the two skipped off in the
darkness. But not before a third man had come across the street, from
in front of the bank, and hurried off with them."
"Well?" asked Tom, as his chum paused.
"I don't know what to think," resumed Ned. "These men were certainly
acting suspiciously, and, now that you tell me the Anson Morse gang is
not locked up--well, it makes me feel that these must be some of their
crowd."
"Of course they are!" declared Tom positively. "That blue ring proves
it!"
"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," declared Ned. "The man certainly
had a blue ring tattooed on his finger--the same finger where you say
Happy Harry had his. But what would the men be doing in this
neighborhood? They certainly have had a lesson not to meddle with any
of your things."
"No, I don't believe they are after any of dad's inventions this time.
But I tell you what I do believe."
"What?"
"Those men are planning to rob the Shopton Bank, Ned! And I advise you
to notify the officers. That Morse gang is one of the worst in the
country," and Tom, much excited, began to pace the room, while Ned, who
had not dreamed of such an outcome to his narrative, looked startled.