A SECRET LISTENER
TOM SWIFT, in a crisis, was not one to think first and act afterward.
Usually he did his acting first, and this was one of those instances.
Like a flash of fire it ran through his mind that now was the best time
to ascertain what object the foreigner could have in breaking the
regulations and entering Tom’s private office.
With the end in view of settling the matter then and there, Tom dashed
across the room and out of the rear door by which Barsky had left. The
young inventor had a glimpse of the Russian hastening along just ahead
of him. He was making good time, too. But Tom Swift, too, was a
sprinter. In spite of all the machines for locomotion that Tom had
invented, he could still run.
He caught up to Ivan Barsky and seized that individual by the arm.
“Hey! Wait a minute!” cried Tom, not very dramatically, perhaps, but
effectively.
“Eh? What eet iss?” The man seemed to hiss the words in his peculiar
way. There was a frightened look on his face and, also, one of
innocence, real or assumed. “You weesh to see me, Mr. Swift?” asked
Barsky.
“It might be the other way around,” announced Tom grimly as he faced the
man. “It rather looks as if you wanted to see me—going into my office
when I wasn’t there. Don’t you know that’s against the rules?”
“Pardon—I did not know eet.”
“Well, it is! I’m telling you now! No one from the works allowed in the
private office without permission. Now, why did you go there—especially
when I was out fighting the fire, which was in your department?”
“Fire? Yes, I hear the wheestle, but I see that so soon the fire he is
out so I cannot think that it to a great deal amounts. I hope none of my
new patterns were burned.” He seemed genuinely anxious on this score.
“Luckily the fire was only in some rubbish,” explained Tom. “But that
has nothing to do with the fact that you were in my office in my
absence. What did you go there for?” and the voice of the young inventor
was stern.
“Oh—I my presence must explanation? Yes, of courseness. I go there to
get heem!”
He held up to Tom a complicated slide rule, often used in making
intricate computations that, otherwise, would entail much work at
figures.
“I need these for that train stop pattern I am making for you, Mr.
Swift,” the man explained.
“Yes, I thought you would need that rule, and I intended sending it out
to you,” Tom said. “But you should not have gone to my office to take it
while I was absent.”
“Pardon! I did not know you were not at home. Also did I not know of the
prohibition against entering the office when you were not in. I saw the
rule—I need heem very much to make the pattern of finished appearance.
So I take the rule and hurry back to my bench.”
“You hurried all right—I’ll say that,” murmured Tom grimly.
“Yes—I am of a hurry kind. Most of us Russians are. Now that I have of
explanation made, eet is permit that I take these?” and he again held up
the rule.
“Oh, yes, I suppose so,” conceded Tom slowly. He could not say anything
else, it seemed. There was such an air of innocence about the man that
to break it down, if it were pretended, required better evidence than
Tom at this moment possessed.
Certainly Barsky had taken nothing more than the slide rule, and he
needed it in his work. Tom felt that the man should have had it before,
for it was the most essential tool. How then, could he find fault with
the foreigner for taking what, obviously, was within his right? Of
course he had broken a rule, but this might be overlooked.
So Tom had to say it was all right and let the matter go at that.
“Only don’t go into my office again without permission,” concluded the
young inventor.
“Naturally not—since you have told me,” said Barsky. “I shall send word
in advance of my veesit next time,” and with a bow he took himself off.
“Hum,” mused Tom as he strolled back to his own quarters. “Now was that
sarcasm or not?”
He thought he was perhaps rather exaggerating the importance of the
incident, and was somewhat put out by the construction Barsky might put
on being thus reprimanded until Tom happened to look in the room where
the chest of secrets was kept.
Not only was this room open, but so, also, was the chest itself and in
plain view were a number of valuable plans and drawings.
“Hang it all!” exclaimed Tom. “I wonder if that chest was open while
Barsky was in here after that rule? It must have been. Some one is
getting careless; but as it may have been I who opened that box and
forgot to close it when the fire whistle blew, I’d better not say
anything about it. Ned or Mr. Newton might think I was hitting at him.
Yes, I’ve got to be more careful, with strange workmen about and
valuable new plans under way.”
Tom looked carefully over his chest of business secrets, and, as far as
he could ascertain, nothing had been disturbed. He knew in a general way
what was in the box.
“But I think the safest way to do,” he told, himself, “would be to have
Ned make a list of all the documents in there. Then we can check them
over from time to time. I’ll do that.”
So, without saying anything to his chum about the visit of Barsky, Tom
told the young manager to list all the documents in the chest after
attending to the fire insurance matter.
“We can’t be too careful of these invention papers,” remarked the author
of many of them.
“You’re dead right you can’t,” agreed Ned.
The fire was but a small incident in the day’s work at the Swift plant.
Fires in such a big shop were not at all uncommon; so matters were soon
running smoothly again.
During the next two or three days Tom paid several visits to the pattern
department, and each time he went there he found Barsky busily at work,
using the slide rule with an expertness that gave Tom a good opinion of
the fellow’s ability in his own line of work.
“I’m glad I hired him—that is, so far as getting what I wanted done,”
Tom said to his father. “He makes patterns better than any man we ever
had.”
“Yes, I have looked at some of the models he has turned out,” Mr. Swift
replied. “But I can’t get over a certain uneasy feeling when I am near
that man, Tom. It’s a sort of fear, I believe.”
“Nonsense!” laughed the young fellow. “You are imagining things, Dad.
Barsky is no ten-thousand-dollar beauty, I grant you that, for he has
enough hair and whiskers for a dozen sofa cushions. But we aren’t
running a beauty parlor, and he does do good work.”
“Yes, Tom. Well, I’ll leave it to you. It’s more in your department than
mine, anyhow. By the way, is there anything new in the case of Mr.
Newton? We must do all we can to help him.”
“We will, Dad. I don’t know that there are any new developments. I’ll
ask Ned. But Plum has orders to look after that case to the best of his
ability. Now I suppose you want to get back to your book, don’t you?”
“If you don’t mind, Son,” answered Mr. Swift, with an anxious look
toward his desk which was littered with papers. The talk had taken place
in the older inventor’s private office.
“All right, I’ll leave you with your pet,” laughed Tom, for the new book
was Mr. Swift’s chief joy and pride. “But I’d like to have a talk with
you this evening, Dad.”
“By all means, Tom. I’ll be free then. Come and chat. But just now I
want to finish that chapter on hydraulics. I find it most fascinating,
and I am using some of the data you evolved when you built the big
submarine.”
“Yes, I fancy we discovered a new principle or two there,” answered Tom,
with justifiable pride. “And you’re welcome to quote me at any length
you wish, Dad,” he finished, with a laugh.
“All right!” chuckled the old inventor. “You’re somewhat of an
authority, Tom, on a few subjects.”
Mr. Swift plunged into his literary work before Tom had reached the door
on his way out, so eager was he to resume work on his book, and Tom was
glad his father had something of this sort to interest him and give him
an object in the declining years of his life.
“Tom, what say, we go to a ball game this afternoon?” suggested Ned when
the young inventor returned to his office. “It’s too nice a day to
work.”
Tom glanced out at the sunlight dancing over the green grass. He looked
at his paper-laden desk and then at the clock.
“Ned,” he suddenly exclaimed, “I’m with you! And if you weren’t already
drawing a bigger salary than you’ll ever be worth, I’d give you an
advance for the valuable suggestion. How about you, Mr. Newton? Will you
come to the game?” he went on, thinking to take the man’s mind from his
trouble over the missing Liberty Bonds.
“Thank you, Tom, no. There are a few things I want to get straightened
out on my books.”
“Better let them go for a time,” suggested Tom. “You’ll do better work
afterward. That’s the way I feel about it. I’m in a sort of maze on this
train-stop device. I’m up against a stone wall. So I’m going to a ball
game and I order you two to come with me!”
“Oh, if it’s an order from the boss—that’s another matter,” laughed Mr.
Newton. So, Tom, having seen to it that his chest of secrets was
securely locked, brought around the electric runabout and all three went
to the ball game.
“Is there anything new in your case, Mr. Newton?” asked Tom, as they sat
in the grandstand, watching the players warm up.
“No, Tom, not a thing. I am leaving everything to Mr. Plum, as you
suggested. He hasn’t reported anything new.”
“Has that fellow, Fawn, or any of the firm pestered you about the
missing bonds?”
“No. But Fawn sneers every time he sees me. I fancy he is much put out
that I am not in jail.”
“You needn’t worry about that,” laughed Ned, though in his heart he
keenly felt the disgrace that had come to his father.
“Is this seat taken?” asked a young lady’s voice behind Tom, and he
turned to look into the smiling face of Mary Nestor.
“Of course not!” he exclaimed, rising, as did his two companions.
“Always room for one more. I didn’t expect to see you here, Mary,” the
young inventor added.
“And you didn’t think of inviting me, I suppose,” said Mary demurely. “I
think I will sit by Ned.”
“If you do I’ll discharge him, and then he won’t like you,” said Tom, as
he made room beside himself for the girl to whom he was engaged. “I’m
awfully glad you’re here. We came in such a hurry—on the inspiration of
a spontaneous suggestion by Ned—that I never thought to ’phone over and
see if you wanted to come.”
“Oh, all right—I’ll forgive you!” the girl laughed.
But there was a quick exchange of looks between Mary and Ned. In fact,
Mary had suggested privately to Ned that he bring Tom to the game, as
she intended to meet him there. Often it was necessary to use a ruse to
get Tom away from his absorbing work of inventing things.
However, here he was, and soon he was enjoying the game with his
friends. It was not much in the way of a ball contest, but it served to
pass away the afternoon and change the current of all their thoughts.
That evening after supper, Tom and his father drew their chairs together
in the living room for one of their old-time chats. Mr. Swift was in a
pleasant mood, for he had done some work on his book that afternoon
which gratified him very much and about which he was enthusiastic.
“Tom, how are things going?” he asked his son.
“Very nicely, indeed,” was the answer. “Of course, I am not making as
much progress as I’d like to on that train-stop device, but it will
come. And when it does, I think it will be worth good money to us.”
“Yes, that, and some of the other inventions we have under way, will be
worth sixty thousand dollars, I think, when they are completed.”
“Well, that estimate may be a bit high,” returned Tom slowly.
“No!” protested his father. “I put it low. I think they’ll run over
sixty thousand dollars. Why, that mill machinery idea of yours——”
“Hark!” exclaimed Tom softly, holding up a hand to caution silence.
“What is it?” asked his father.
“I heard some sort of a noise outside on the porch.”
Tom arose to go toward one of the windows, the shades of which were
drawn down. But before he reached the casement Eradicate came hurrying
into the room, very much excited.
“What’s the matter, Rad?” asked Tom quickly.
“Somebody on de piazzy listenin’ at de window!” exclaimed the colored
man. “I jest been to see dat de henhouse was locked up, an’ I done seen
somebody on piazzy! I runs up, but he runs away an’ I didn’t cotch him!
But dey was somebody listenin’!”