IVAN BARSKY
MR. PLUM did not seem startled, nor even much impressed, by the judge’s
announcement of the large amount of bail he would require to set Mr.
Newton free. Perhaps the lawyer was accustomed to such matters for his
clients. At any rate, as Tom said afterward, “he never turned a hair,”
but turned to Mr. Newton and asked:
“Are you prepared to furnish that amount of bail?”
“Why, no, I’m afraid I am not,” was the hesitating answer.
“What’s going to happen, Tom?” whispered Ned to his chum. “Do you think
dad will have to be locked up?”
“No, I think there must be some way out,” replied Tom. “Great hoptoads!
I never thought we’d need more than five thousand dollars.”
“That’s an awful lot of money to get on a moment’s notice,” sighed Ned.
“The five thousand’s about all the cash we have on hand just at
present,” stated Tom Swift. “But of course we can raise a lot more. The
question is, though, can we do it in time? Let’s see what Mr. Plum is
saying.”
The lawyer was addressing the court.
“I suppose,” he said, “your honor will be content with a real estate
bond or that of a surety company?”
“Either one, Mr. Plum,” was the answer.
Turning to Tom the lawyer asked:
“Are you prepared to go security for Mr. Newton in this amount?”
“Yes, or twice the amount, if necessary,” Tom answered. “But I have only
five thousand in cash here with me——”
There was a gasp of surprise from some spectators in court, and the
judge and the prosecutor smiled at one another.
“But my father and I will sign a bail bond in any amount,” Tom went on
eagerly.
“I fancy that will satisfy the court. And you too, Mr. Prosecutor, will
it not?” asked the lawyer, nodding to the county prosecutor, to whose
lot it would fall to try the case against Mr. Newton, if it went to
trial.
“If the Swift firm signs a bond I’ll be satisfied,” said Mr. Nixon, the
prosecutor.
“What about us?” burst out Mr. Fawn. “Don’t we have something to say in
this matter? I don’t want that man to go free. He stole a lot of our
Liberty Bonds.”
“Order! Order!” called the court constables, and the judge banged with
his gavel.
“You have nothing to say in this matter,” said the judge to Mr. Fawn.
“The amount of bail has been fixed sufficiently high, and if a bond is
furnished this defendant will go free until his trial, no matter what
_you_ think about it.”
Abashed, the manager of the investment company slunk back in his seat
and Mr. Plum conferred for a few moments in whispers with the judge and
the prosecutor. The upshot of it was that Tom hurried off in the
electric runabout and brought his father to the court house. Mr. Swift
and Tom signed the bail bond, pledging themselves to pay to the county
the sum of ten thousand dollars in the event that Mr. Newton was not on
hand to stand trial when called; and the matter was ended for the time
being.
“May I go now?” asked Ned’s father, who was in a very nervous state over
it all.
“You may, indeed,” said the judge courteously. “Your friends have gone
bail for you.”
“I—I thank you—very much,” faltered Mr. Newton, and then he and Ned
walked out a little ahead of the others, for Ned was affected, too.
However, they soon recovered their spirits, and when they were in the
runabout, which was larger than the name implies, Mr. Newton with a sad
smile, turned to Tom and asked:
“How does it seem to associate with criminals?”
“I don’t know!” laughed the young inventor. “I haven’t been with any
yet.”
“Thanks!” replied Ned’s father. “I suppose I needn’t assure you, my
friends, that I am innocent of this charge?” he added.
“You don’t need to say a word!” cried Tom.
“But what is it all about, Dad?” asked Ned. “What’s the game, anyhow,
and why have they picked you for the goat?”
“I don’t know,” was the sober answer. “I can’t tell. I wish I could. All
I know is that the Liberty Bonds have been stolen—at least, so Fawn
says—and the fellow accuses me.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he had stolen them himself!” burst out Ned.
“Be careful, son,” warned his father in a low voice. “Don’t get rash.
But what will the next move be in this matter?” he asked the lawyer.
“Oh, your case won’t come up for trial for several months,” was the
answer. “Not until fall, anyhow. In the meanwhile, if you wish, I will
look into it for you and prepare a defense.”
“I was going to ask you to, Mr. Plum,” put in Tom. At the same time he
gave the lawyer a glance which told that astute legal man that Mr.
Newton was to be at no expense in the affair. As a matter of fact, Mr.
Plum was under a yearly retainer to look after all the Swift interests.
“Then perhaps, Mr. Newton, you had better come to my office and talk the
matter over,” suggested Mr. Plum. So he and the late prisoner were
deposited in town, and Tom, his father and Ned went back to the shop.
“Well, a lot has happened in the last couple of hours,” remarked Ned, as
he watched his friend put back into the chest the five thousand dollars
which had not been used.
“I should say so!” agreed Tom. “I think we might as well knock off work
for the day, Ned. I sha’n’t need you any longer, and I guess you’ll be
glad to get home and comfort your mother.”
“I will. I telephoned her from the court house that dad would not have
to sleep in a cell. But she’ll want to hear all the particulars. I’ll be
on hand in the morning.”
“Take your time, old man. There’s nothing special on. And on your way
out please send Koku here and I’ll get him to shift this chest.”
Ned looked at the substantially bound box and smiled faintly.
“Some chest, I’ll say,” he observed. “And when you get all your patent
papers and blue prints and other drawings in it, Tom, it will be a
regular chest of secrets.”
“So you observed before, Ned. And let me add, the chest of secrets will
be a mighty valuable one.”
Ned went off and a few minutes later Koku came in, grinning broadly to
think that he was needed to help his master. With ease he moved the
heavy chest and its valuable contents to a small room opening out of the
main office where Tom worked.
“Nobody but Koku move ’um big box like that!” exclaimed the giant a bit
proudly when the transfer had been made.
“Better not let Rad hear you say that,” chuckled Tom.
“Pooh! Rad! Blow ’um head over ’um’s ears!” grunted the giant.
That evening Tom and his father discussed the accusation against Mr.
Newton, though as they had heard few particulars there was little that
could be said except that unbounded faith in him was expressed.
Tom was in his office early the next morning—much earlier than usual,
in fact, for he wanted to work on a new idea in regard to his plan for
stopping trains automatically so that collisions or other accidents
would be avoided. It was Tom’s hope that this invention could eventually
be applied to his powerful electric locomotive, about which details have
been given in another volume.
Tom was soon deep in a mass and maze of figures, computing the power
needed to stop such an immense force as was represented by his big
electric machine. He was considering a wireless attachment to bring
automatically into play the stopping force when Eradicate shuffled into
the room. The colored man was chuckling.
“Well, what is it now, Rad?” asked Tom, not altogether pleased at being
interrupted.
“Ha! Ha! Dat Koku giant, he sleepin’ yit!” chuckled Rad.
“Is that all you come in to tell me—that Koku is sleeping yet?”
exclaimed Tom, a bit wrathfully.
“He suah sleep!” went on Rad. “I git ahead ob him. I’s de early worm dat
tickles de birds dis mawnin’.”
“What do you mean—early birds and worms?” and Tom smiled in spite of
himself. “No one is going fishing, is there?”
“I doan know ef he’s gwin fishin’ or not, Massa Tom, but he’s outside
waitin’ to come in.”
“Who is?” the young inventor inquired.
“Man whut wants to see you.”
“Good night, Rad! Why didn’t you say it was a visitor instead of gassing
away about Koku sleeping and worms and birds and all that? Though I
suppose you’re so proud of having gotten ahead of that giant of mine you
can’t help feeling good.”
“Das right, Massa Tom!” chuckled Eradicate Sampson. “I done fool dat
giant dish yeah mawnin’. But heah’s de letter he done gif me fo’ you,”
and the colored man extended a card.
Tom accepted the card and holding it to the light read inscribed the
name.
“Um—Ivan Barsky!” murmured the young inventor, casting his memory back
over many names representing many men to see if this one fitted in
anywhere. “I don’t seem to recall him,” he said.
“He done tole me dat he’s a stranger to you all,” confided Rad. “But he
says it’s mighty ’portant business.”
“Perhaps it is—to him,” chuckled Tom, who was accustomed to having many
strangers call on him for help or to ask him to lend his talents toward
perfecting some crazy invention. “Well, Rad, show him in.”
“Yas, sah,” and the colored man shuffled out, to return presently
ushering in a man at whom Tom shot a quick look. The youth saw before
him a man of short stature but powerful build. He had a shock of black,
bushy hair, and it was difficult to tell where his hair left off and his
beard began, the latter also being black and bushy.
“The name Ivan was right,” thought Tom. “He’s a Russian all the way
through.”
“Mr. Swiftski?” asked the man in questioning tones, and with a trace of
surprise, seemingly.
“You can leave off the _ski_,” said Tom. “But I’m Mr. Swift.”
“Pardon—but eet is that I do not the talk of your country know so well.
In my talk there are so many who are like that. But your pardon I again
ask—eet is to see so young a man that I am taken by astonishment.”
“You’re a pretty slick article,” said Tom to himself. “I don’t know that
I’m going to like you, but I’ll give you one more chance.”