A TREMENDOUS UNDERTAKING
“THERE she goes, Tom!” cried Ned Newton, as an even greater cloud of
smoke enveloped the House on Wheels, following the sharp blast. “What
caused the blaze?”
“It must be the fireworks I brought in last night!” cried Tom Swift, as,
followed by Ned and Mr. Swift, he hurried from the office to the yard of
the plant.
“Fireworks?” cried Ned.
“Yes. I meant to put them in a safe place, but I forgot them and left
them in the House on Wheels. But what made them go off, I wonder?”
“What are you doing with fireworks at this time of year?” Ned wanted to
know, as he hurried along beside his chum. “Independence Day is three
months off.”
“I know it,” Tom replied. “But it’s Mary’s birthday to-morrow and ever
since she was a little girl she has had fireworks on that occasion. I
couldn’t omit it the first year she’s married to me.”
“Of course you couldn’t,” agreed Ned. “So you were going to have a
fireworks display for Mary’s birthday. Well, the fireworks picked a good
day for themselves.”
“What do you mean?” Tom exclaimed.
“To-day is April Fool’s day,” answered Ned.
“Well, it’s a poor joke to set off fireworks in my House on Wheels, even
if it is April first,” declared Tom. “Look at ’em!”
By this time he and Ned were running directly toward the famous House on
Wheels. Workmen from the shop were also congregating there, some
carrying portable fire extinguishers.
From all appearances, these would be needed. Skyrockets, Roman candles,
pinwheels, aerial bombs, and other pyrotechnics were making a grand
display from within and about the House on Wheels.
“She’s a goner I’m afraid!” sighed Tom.
“Looks bad,” agreed Ned, and then both ran on to help put out the blaze.
While they are doing this, it might be mentioned, for the benefit of new
readers, who Tom Swift was and something told about him.
In the first book of this series, named “Tom Swift and His Motor Cycle,”
Tom Swift was introduced. He was a young inventor, living with his
father, Barton Swift, in the small city of Shopton where the Swift works
were located. Tom’s mother was dead, but he and his father were looked
after by Mrs. Baggert, their housekeeper.
As a lad Tom was interested in mechanics, and that he could develop
ideas and invent machinery was proved when, after Wakefield Damon, of
the neighboring town of Waterford, smashed his motor cycle by running up
a tree, Tom bought the wreck, repaired it, and made it better than ever.
Since then he and Mr. Damon, a most eccentric man, had been good
friends.
In time Tom developed into a great inventor, like his father, and, as
Mr. Swift grew infirm, Tom assumed entire charge of the plant.
The shops where new inventions were tried out and various machines
manufactured now covered many acres of ground and, as the plant had
grown, had been removed from near the Swift homestead, in which
comfortable house Tom and his father lived with Mary Nestor, whom Tom
had recently married. Tom frequently urged his chum, Ned Newton, to
marry Helen Morton, a girl friend of Mary Nestor. But, somehow, Ned
could not make up his mind to this. He said he was too busy managing
Tom’s financial matters to think of getting married.
Tom and Ned were each in their early twenties now and were doing a fine
business. For repairing a broken motor cycle was only one of Tom Swift’s
achievements. He perfected motor boats, submarines, an aerial warship,
an electric locomotive, and was one of the first to develop talking
pictures.
The latest invention of the young mechanic had been a great auto, which
he called his traveling home, and in the book immediately preceding this
full details are given. That volume is called “Tom Swift and His House
on Wheels; or, A Trip to the Mountain of Mystery.”
It was on this Mountain of Mystery that the young inventor solved some
strange puzzles and had some breath-taking adventures, during which he
nearly lost his queer House. It was right after this that he and Mary
Nestor decided to get married.
Tom Swift brought his bride to the old homestead, and while he and Mary
lived in one wing of the big place, with Koku, the giant, as a sort of
bodyguard, Mr. Swift, well looked after by Mrs. Baggert and Eradicate,
an aged Negro, lived in another part of the mansion.
Tom had only just returned from a short trip he and Mary had made in
their House on Wheels when he received a letter from the Jardine company
about building a big dirigible. There was some correspondence and the
first interview was just over when Koku gave the alarm of fire.
“What started it, Koku?” asked Tom, as, with Ned and the giant, he stood
in front of the House which was still spouting fireworks.
“No can tell. All of a quick go Boom!” answered the giant, whom Tom had
brought back with him after a perilous trip to a wonderful land.
“Must have been spontaneous combustion!” gasped Ned, as a big skyrocket
whizzed over their heads.
“I hope that’s the last!” cried Garret Jackson, the shop manager, as he
edged in closer with a fire extinguisher.
“I bought an awful lot of fireworks,” Tom admitted, with a sort of groan
as he saw what danger his precious House was in. “They can’t a quarter
of them have gone off yet!”
“Some birthday celebration!” laughed Ned. “You ought to get Mary here!”
But it was no time for talking. There was great danger. However, the
workmen in the Swift plant were accustomed to dealing with emergencies
of this nature, and some well directed streams from the chemical
containers soon had the worst of the fire out. A few crackers and some
pinwheels continued to ignite, but the greatest danger, from some
powerful aerial bombs, had been averted.
“But I can’t understand it,” murmured Tom as he went into the House on
Wheels to view the damage. “Though I put the fireworks in here
hurriedly, I was careful to see that there was nothing near that could
set them off.”
“Was the motor running just before you put the Roman candles in here?”
asked Ned. “If so, there might have been some heat in that.”
“The House wasn’t in use yesterday,” Tom said. “It was being put in
shape for the trip Mary and I are to take.”
“What trip is that?” asked Ned.
“To Mt. Camon,” was the answer. “It’s quite a wonderful mountain resort
in a big piece of woods. Mary’s father and mother used to go there and
she thought she’d like to go back. Dad, too, needs a change, and I
thought of running up there with him, Mary, and her parents and leaving
them for a month or so. I’d have to come back, especially if I undertake
this big dirigible.”
“Have you decided on that yet?” Ned wanted to know.
“Not yet,” Tom answered. “But now it looks as if I’d be busy getting
this House in shape,” and he gazed ruefully about the blackened and
still smoke-filled interior of the odd conveyance.
“It will need some repairs,” agreed Ned. “But perhaps not many. It’s
lucky it wasn’t all blown apart.”
“Yes,” Tom assented.
“What possessed you to store fireworks in here?” Ned wanted to know.
“Well,” Tom said, “it may have been foolish; but as I came in with them
last night, I thought I was followed by some one. It seemed as if some
man was sneaking around the plant. I spoke to some of the watchmen and
even got Koku on the job. Then I got to thinking even a stray cigarette
in this mass of fireworks would set them off, and I judged that if I
stuck them in this House no one would know where they were. So I did.”
“And did that mysterious individual who followed you set them off?”
asked Ned.
“That I can’t tell. Koku and I and a watchman looked about the place
after I had put the fireworks away, but we found no one. Perhaps I was
mistaken.”
“Well, there wasn’t any mistake about this fire,” said Ned grimly.
“Unfortunately, no,” agreed Tom. “But I’ll rush the repairs.”
The next few days were busy ones for Tom Swift. For one thing, he had to
attend to his wife’s natal anniversary and this was a successful affair,
in spite of the fact that most of the fireworks had gone off
prematurely. There were enough left for a small display.
After the birthday party, Tom Swift spent much time superintending
repairs to the big traveling home, in which he hoped to take his wife,
his father, and the Nestors to Mt. Camon. In the midst of these busy
operations fussy Mr. Jardine came back, at the time appointed, to get
Tom’s decision regarding the big dirigible.
“Well, have you decided yet, Mr. Swift?” asked the caller, nervously
lighting another cigar.
“I will soon,” Tom replied, with a smile. “We’ll go into a conference
now. My father will be here in a moment and I will send for Mr. Newton.”
The conference was rather long and very important. Mr. Jardine was
enthusiastic and insistent and urged that the work be started at once
and rushed to completion before fall. He had the oralum metal plates all
ready to use, he said.
“Even with them, we’ll need a lot of special machinery and motors,”
objected Tom. “It’s going to be a big job.”
“That’s why I came to a big inventor,” said Mr. Jardine, with ready
tact. “I know you can do it!”
“What do you say, Ned?” Tom asked.
“The financial end seems to be all right,” stated the manager. But he
did not look at Mr. Jardine as he said this. Though keeping silent, Ned
had not changed his opinion about the stout, fussy little man.
“What’s your word, Dad?” Tom asked his father.
Mr. Swift was slow and careful and, in spite of his age, had a keen
business and inventive sense.
“I think it can be done, Tom, if you want to do it,” answered Mr. Swift.
“There’s no question about my wanting to do it,” Tom said. “I’d ask
nothing better than to turn out a craft like that if we can do it at a
fair profit. It will be a big advertisement for us.”
“And us. We appreciate that,” said Mr. Jardine. “We expect big things of
our new metal, once it gets to be known as ideal for dirigible
envelopes. We think we have a wonderful thing in oralum. I do hope you
will go on with this, Mr. Swift.”
Tom was silent for a few seconds and then he made a momentous decision.
He reached for his pen to sign the contracts and said:
“Yes, we’ll build the big dirigible.”
“Good!” cried Mr. Jardine.