A DIFFICULT TEST
Tom Swift opened the door of the improvised rifle gallery and looked
out. By the light of a full moon, which shone down from a cloudless
sky, he saw a man standing at the portal. The man's face was
distorted with rage, and he shook his fist at the young inventor.
"What do you mean by shooting at me?" he demanded. "What do you
mean, I say? The idea of scaring honest folks out of their wits, and
making 'em think the end of the world has come! What do you mean by
it? Why don't you answer me? I say, Tom Swift, why don't you answer
me?"
"Because you don't give me a chance, Mr. Moker," replied our hero.
"I want to know why you shot at me? I demand to know!" and Mr.
Moker, who was a sort of miserly town character, living all alone in
a small house, just beyond Tom's home, again shook his fist almost
in the lad's face. "Why don't you tell me? Why don't you tell me?"
he shouted.
"I will, if you give me a chance!" fairly exploded Tom. "If you can
be cool for five minutes, and come inside and tell me what happened
I'll be glad to answer any of your questions, Mr. Moker. I didn't
shoot at you."
"Yes, you did! You tried to shoot a hole through me!"
"Tell me about it?" suggested Tom, as the excited man calmed down
somewhat. "Are you hurt?"
"No, but it isn't your fault that I'm not. You tried hard enough to
hurt me. Here I am, sitting at my table reading, and, all at once
something goes through the side of the house, whizzes past my ear,
makes my hair fairly stand up on end, and goes outside the other
side of the house. What kind of bullets do you use, Tom Swift?
that's what I want to know. They went through the side of my house,
and never left a mark. I demand to know what kind they are."
"I'll tell you, if you'll only give me a chance," went on Tom
wearily. "How do you know it was me shooting?"
"How do I know? Why, doesn't the end of this shooting gallery of
yours point right at my house? Of course it does; you can't deny
it!"
Tom did not attempt to, and Mr. Moker went on:
"Now what do you mean by it?"
"If any of the bullets from my electric gun went near you, it was a
mistake, and I'm sorry for it," said Tom.
"Well, they did, all right," declared the excited man. "They went
right past my ear."
"I don't see how they could," declared Tom. "I was trying my new
electric rifle, but I had the limit set for two hundred feet, the
length of the gallery. That is, the electrical discharge couldn't go
beyond that distance."
"I don't know what it was, but it went through the side of my house
all the same," insisted Mr. Moker. "It didn't make a hole, but it
scorched the wall paper a little."
"I don't see how it could," declared Tom. "It couldn't possibly have
gone over two hundred feet with the gage set for that distance." He
paused suddenly, and hurried over to where he had placed his gun.
Catching up the weapon he looked at the gage dial. Then he uttered
an exclamation.
"I'm sorry to admit that you are right, Mr. Moker!" he said finally.
"I made a mistake. The gage is set for a thousand feet instead of
two hundred. I forgot to change it. The charge, after passing
through the steel plate, and the scarecrow figure, destroying the
latter, went on, and shot through the side of your house."
"Ha! I knew you were trying to shoot me!" exclaimed the still angry
man. "I'll have the law on you for this!"
"Oh, that's all nonsense!" broke in Ned Newton. "Everybody knows Tom
Swift wouldn't try to shoot you, or any one else, Mr. Moker."
"Then why did he shoot at me?"
"That was a mistake," explained Tom, "and I apologize to you for
it."
"Humph! A lot of good that would do me, if I'd been killed!"
muttered the miser. "I'm going to sue you for this. You might have
put me in my grave."
"Impossible!" exclaimed Tom.
"Why impossible?" demanded the visitor.
"Because I had so set the rifle that almost the entire force of the
electrical bullet was expended in blowing apart the scarecrow figure
I made for a test," explained Tom. "All that passed through your
house was a small charge, and, if it HAD hit you there would have
been no more than a little shock, such as you would feel in taking
hold of an electric battery."
"How do I know this?" asked the man cunningly. "You say so, but for
all I know you may have wanted to kill me."
"Why?" asked Tom, trying not to laugh.
"Oh, so you might get some of my money. Of course I ain't got none,"
the miser went on quickly, "but folks thinks I've got a lot, and I
have to be on the lookout all the while, or they'd murder me for
it."
"I wouldn't," declared the young inventor. "It was a mistake. Only
part of the spent charge passed near you. Why, if it had been a
powerful charge you would never have been able to come over here. I
set the main charge to go off inside the scarecrow, and it did so,
as you can see by looking at what's left of it," and he pointed to
the pile of clothes and rags.
"How do I know this?" insisted the miser with a leer at the two
lads.
"Because if the charge had gone off either before or after it passed
through the figure, it would not have caused such havoc of the cloth
and straw," explained Tom. "First the charge would have destroyed
the steel plate, which it passed through without even denting it.
Why, look here, I will now fire the rifle at short range, and set it
to destroy the plate. See what happens."
He quickly adjusted the weapon, and aimed it at the plate, which,
had again been set up on the range. This time Tom was careful to set
the gage so that even a small part of the spent charge would not go
outside the gallery.
The young inventor pressed the button, and instantly the heavy steel
plate was bent, torn and twisted as though a small sized cannon ball
had gone through it.
"That's what the rifle will do at short range," said Tom. "Don't
worry, Mr. Moker, you didn't have a narrow escape. You were in no
danger at all, though I apologize for the fright I caused you."
"Humph! That's an easy way to get out of it!" exclaimed the miser.
"I believe I could sue you for damages, anyhow. Look at my scorched
wall paper."
"Oh, I'll pay for that," said Tom quickly, for he did not wish to
have trouble with the unpleasant man. "Will ten dollars be enough?"
He knew that the whole room could be repapered for that, and he did
not believe the wall-covering was sufficiently damaged for such work
to be necessary.
"Well, if you'll make it twelve dollars, I won't say anything more
about it," agreed the miser craftily, "though it's worth thirteen
dollars, if it is a penny. Give me twelve dollars, Tom Swift, and I
won't prosecute you."
"All right, twelve dollars it shall be," responded the young
inventor, passing over the money, and glad to be rid of the
unpleasant character.
"And after this, just fire that gun of yours the other way,"
suggested Mr. Moker as he went out, carefully folding the bills
which Tom had handed him.
"Hum! that was rather queer," remarked Ned, after a pause.
"It sure was," agreed his chum. "This rifle will do more than I
thought it would. I'll have to be more careful. I was sure I set the
gage for two hundred feet. I'll have to invent some automatic
attachment to prevent it being discharged when the gage is set
wrong." Let us state here that Tom did this, and never had another
accident.
"Well, does this end the test?" asked Ned.
"No, indeed. I want you to try it, while I look on," spoke Tom. "We
haven't any more stuffed figures to fire at, but I'll set up some
targets. Come on, try your luck at a shot."
"I'm afraid I might disturb Mr. Moker, or some of the neighbors."
"No danger. I've got it adjusted right now. Come on, see if you can
shatter this steel target," and Tom set up a small one at the end of
the range.
Then, having properly fixed the weapon, Tom handed it to his chum,
and, taking his place in a protected part of the gallery, prepared
to watch the effect of the shot.
"Let her go!" cried Tom, and Ned pressed the button.
The effect was wonderful. Though there was no noise, smoke nor
flame, the steel plate seemed to crumple up, and collapse as if it
had been melted in the fire. There was a jagged hole through the
center, but some frail boards back of it were not even splintered.
"Good shot!" cried Tom enthusiastically. "I had the distance gage
right that time."
"You sure did," agreed Ned. "The electric bullet stopped as soon as
it did its work on the plate. What's next?"
"I'm going to try a difficult test," explained Tom. "You know I said
the gun would shoot luminous charges?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm going to try that, now. I wish we had another image to
shoot at, but I'll take a big dry-goods box, and make believe it's
an elephant. Now, this is going to be a hard test, such as we'd meet
with, if we were hunting in Africa. I want you to help me."
"What am I to do?" asked Ned.
"I want you to go outside," explained Tom, "set up a dry-goods box
against the side of the little hill back of the shed, and not tell
me where you put it. Then I'll go out, and, by means of the luminous
charge, I'll locate the box, set the distance gage, and destroy it."
"Well, you can see it anyhow, in the moonlight," objected Ned.
"No, the moon is under a cloud now," explained Tom, looking out of a
window. "It's quite dark, and will give me just the test I want for
my new electric rifle."
"But won't it be dangerous, firing in the dark? Suppose you misjudge
the distance, and the bullet, or charge, files off and hits some
one?"
"It can't. I'll set the distance gage before I shoot. But if I
should happen to make a mistake the charge will go into the side of
the hill, and spend itself there. There is no danger. Go ahead, and
set up the box, and then come and tell me. Mr. Jackson will help
you."
Ned and the engineer left the gallery. As Tom had said, it was very
dark now, and if Tom could see in the night to hit a box some
distance away, his weapon would be all that he claimed for it.
"This will do," said the engineer, as he pointed to a box, one of
several piled up outside the shed. The two could hardly see to make
their way along, carrying it to the foot of the hill, and they
stumbled several times. But at last it was in position, and then Ned
departed to call Tom, and have him try the difficult test--that of
hitting an object in the dark.