STEALING AN INVENTION
“Yes,” repeated the lawyer, “that Saxton crowd is aiming to steal
your airship inventions.”
Mr. Hardy sank on a chair looking blank and troubled. Ben spoke up.
“How can they do that, Mr. Pearsons?”
“I’ll tell my story, and you will see,” replied the lawyer. “I went
down to the plant and cornered Saxton in his private office. He
looked quite bored at our prompt action. I belong to his set, and,
as he realizes, I know some of his business secrets. He began to
explain, as he called it. Thousands of dollars worth of stuff had
been stolen from the works he claimed. Some had been found at your
house. He said he didn’t believe your intention was to steal them,
that you probably took them to select what you wanted, and would
square up later.”
“The hypocrite!” commented Ben hotly.
“I faced him right down,” went on Mr. Pearsons. “I informed him that
it was a pretty dangerous thing to destroy a good man’s character
off-hand. He is a man of no real backbone, and I scared him nearly
to death. He kept mumbling over that he hoped no harm had been done,
that he didn’t intend to prosecute. I defied him to do so. I told
him if he didn’t, we would force the issue and fight him to the last
ditch, till we found out which one of his accomplices planted those
fittings in your work shed.”
“Good—good!” cried Ben.
“Then I demanded the return of your airship parts,” continued
the lawyer. “He flushed, hemmed and hawed, and looked flustered.
Certainly he would return them. Sure he had made a mistake. The
clumsy officers had no right to take them. All right, I said, where
were they? Saxton said they were in the possession of the constables.
If I would send around about four o’clock they would be ready for me.
Then I opened up on him, I think I gave him a tongue lashing he will
never forget. I told him he was a thoroughly bad man, and I would be
obliged if he didn’t speak to me when I passed him on the street.”
“Mr. Pearsons, you are indeed a true friend,” said Mr. Hardy with
emotion.
“I know that I am that man’s enemy from this time forth,” declared
the lawyer. “He is a disgrace to the community. As I left his place,
I met a fellow named Bogart. I got him out of jail last year, and
he has always felt very grateful to me. He has been doing odd jobs
helping the regular constables, and he took me aside and let the cat
out of the bag.”
“How do you mean?” inquired Mr. Hardy.
“Why, he told me that just as soon as the constable reported to
Saxton, he sent two of the airship parts by special messenger to his
lawyer. You know who that is—that shrewd, tricky Mason, a man who
ought to be disbarred from his unscrupulous methods. My informant
said that Mason at once put his office force at work to make drawings
of the new parts and get out specifications. They expect to get the
papers by special mail to Washington on the two o’clock train.”
“It is too bad,” said Mr. Hardy gloomily.
“And it is now one o’clock. Is there no way to outwit them?” asked
Ben.
“Not in respect to getting ahead of them at Washington,” replied Mr.
Pearsons, consulting his watch. “See here, Hardy,” he continued,
approaching the dejected inventor, and placing a friendly,
encouraging hand on his shoulder, “don’t you be downhearted.”
“It is a pretty bad proposition for me,” said Ben’s father.
“Not altogether. We shall at once follow their claims with our own,
and we will fight it through the courts.”
“That is a long and tedious process.”
“It is our only alternative. You go home, don’t worry, and leave this
thing to me to untangle. To-morrow come and see me about suing Saxton
on those automobile patents. I’m thinking we shall be able to raise a
storm about his ears that will keep him awake nights for a spell.”
“Will I be able to get the airship parts to-day?” inquired Mr. Hardy.
“I’ll attend to that,” assured the lawyer.
“I want to get Ben’s monoplane done.”
Mr. Hardy and Ben left the lawyer’s office. As they reached the
street, our hero paused. An idea had come into his mind, and he said:
“You go home, father. I’ll join you there soon.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Oh I’ve got some little things to attend to about town.”
Mr. Hardy proceeded on his way alone. It made Ben sorry and fretted
to observe his depressed and downcast air.
“I’ll fit things if it takes all I’ve got,” said Ben firmly, and he
walked down the street and entered the savings bank where he had
deposited most of the money received from the sale of the Sybilline
whistle.
Mr. Pearsons was busy at his desk when Ben re-entered the office. He
looked up somewhat surprised, with the words:
“Well, what’s the trouble, Hardy?”
“My father has gone home very much discouraged,” said Ben seriously.
“An idea struck me that may change the situation somewhat, so I
thought I would come back to see you.”
“Very good. What then?” inquired the lawyer.
“Why, just this—a way to get ahead of the Saxton crowd in filing the
application for those patents.”
The lawyer shook his head, consulting his watch.
“No show, I’m sorry to say,” he declared. “It would take fully two
hours to prepare the papers. Mason is ahead of us one mail, and no
other leaves until to-morrow morning.”
“I drew the design of the patents for my father,” explained Ben.
“In fact, I have the rude draft of them in my pocket now. As to the
description, I could write out those to the smallest detail.”
“No use now, too late,” insisted Mr. Pearsons.
“Let me ask one question, please.”
“Certainly, lad.”
“Have you a correspondent in Washington?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then I suggest this: Why can’t we get up all the necessary formation
for applying for the patents, describing them accurately, so they can
be reproduced by your correspondent, and sending word for word the
specifications, as you call them, and telegraphing them.”
The lawyer fairly jumped from his seat.
“Hardy,” he said enthusiastically, “you are a genius!” And then his
face shadowed, and he shook his head.
“That would certainly head off the Saxton crowd, and my correspondent
at Washington is a bright active man, but—why, Hardy, it would cost
at least one hundred dollars to telegraph all that stuff.”
“Yes, sir; I suppose so,” said Ben quietly, “so I brought the money
to pay for it. There is one hundred and fifty dollars.”