SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT
TOM SWIFT believed among other things that when persons are on a
vacation to enjoy themselves they should be bothered, annoyed and
worried as little as possible. So, though he was not altogether easy in
his mind regarding the message from his shop and though he was a bit
apprehensive concerning that sinister dwarf, he affected to be quite at
his ease.
“Don’t worry, Mary,” he said. “Everything will be all right.”
“But why does Mr. Jackson want you to come back before your time is up?”
“Oh, a lot of little details that they think I must settle,” Tom said.
“I dare say they really amount to nothing. There are many things to
decide in building such a big dirigible, and naturally Jackson and Ned
don’t want to take the responsibility.”
So, though he had intended to spend another day at Mt. Camon, Tom Swift
made arrangements for leaving early in the morning. When the time came,
the House on Wheels was brought around from the hotel garage.
“Be careful of that place where the landslide was, won’t you, Tom?” Mary
called to him when he was ready to leave.
“I’m not going back that way,” he answered.
“When will you come up again?” she asked.
“I’ll come for my long vacation as soon as the dirigible is finished,”
Tom said. “But I may run up for a few days before then if things are all
right.”
Tom was a little downcast at leaving his wife, and Mary frankly cried a
little at the parting, brief though it would be. But when Tom Swift was
at length on the way back, speeding along in the House on Wheels, he was
thinking of so many things that even his new wife was, for the moment,
crowded out of his mind.
“I hope that bird Jardine isn’t going to butt in and spoil my plans,”
Tom said. “The dirigible may be in part his idea, but I’ve got to build
it and do it my own way. We may come to a bust yet, if he’s too fussy.”
Tom stayed over night at a small country town where his strange House on
Wheels attracted much attention. He received several offers to purchase
it, one from the proprietor of a moving picture theater who said it
would be a good advertisement. But when he learned the cost he whistled
and said:
“I guess that’s a bit too steep for me!”
Tom drove the machine to the limit next day, and arrived at his shop
just before closing time.
“Well, I certainly am glad to see you back!” exclaimed Ned. “Oh, boy,
what a relief!”
“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Tom.
“That baby Jardine,” was Ned’s reply. “He’s had the life almost bothered
out of me. He just left, and when I said you might be here by dark he
said he’d be back.”
“What’s the idea? What does he want?” Tom asked.
“Oh, he’s got some new notions about the dirigible. Wants to make
changes in her construction. It’s all Greek to me. I put him off as best
I could.”
“You didn’t let him order any changes, did you?” Tom asked.
“Certainly not! Jackson held him with a firm hand. But you’re going to
have trouble with that bird!”
“No, I’m not,” Tom said. “If there’s any trouble I’ll throw over the
contract. It has a revoking clause, if any changes unauthorized by me
are incorporated, and I won’t make them.”
“Stick to your guns!” chuckled Ned. “Only you’re going to have your
hands full, believe me.”
“What about that dwarf?” asked Tom.
“Oh, that wasn’t really anything. It was just a fuss between Chock and
the giant. Koku certainly gave the little man the raspberry, and I don’t
blame him for not standing it.”
“Then Chock didn’t make any trouble?”
“Not what you would call trouble, I guess. But he sure had one sweet row
with your giant. Offered to lick him with one hand tied behind his back
and all that, with Rad egging Chock on. For, naturally, Rad and Koku
don’t get on any too well.”
“I know that. So the dwarf left?”
“Vamoosed in a hurry and as mad as a wet hen. Jardine, too, raised a row
when he found Chock was gone, and threatened to bring him back. But I
haven’t noticed him doing it. Outside of that, everything is all right.”
“How’s the dirigible coming on?”
“Fine. The work can be rushed if Jardine doesn’t make a lot of changes.”
“He won’t—don’t worry!”
“It sure is lucky he could supply all the oralum plates ready made, and
getting a lot of the machinery made up of stock parts saved a lot of
time. I shouldn’t wonder, Tom, but that in a few weeks you could fly the
_Silver Cloud_.”
“I hope so. Well, I’ll take a look at things in the shop and then be
ready for Jardine if he comes back.”
“He will. Don’t worry. How are Mary and the bunch?”
“Fine as silk. Everything went beautifully except that we were pretty
nearly killed in a landslide going up and then a crazy gardener at the
hotel tried to stab the manager.”
“Outside of that there ain’t no news, I suppose!” chuckled Ned.
“Right, me lad! And now to business!”
Tom found that his men had made good progress during his short absence
and he was hopeful of an early test of the great machine, which dwarfed
everything else in the big hangar where it was being constructed.
Tom and Ned had supper together and were back in the private office,
going over many matters, when there was a step in the corridor outside
and a well-known voice exclaimed:
“Well, you’re back! I’m glad of it! There are a number of important
matters I want to take up with you, Tom Swift. Here, have a cigar, and
we’ll consider some changes.”
“Changes in what, Mr. Jardine?” Tom asked, as he laid aside the cigar
offered.
“Changes in the _Silver Cloud_.”
“What is the nature of the changes?” asked Tom patiently.
“Well, here’s one. Now what is that sort of little dog kennel on top of
the oralum envelope?” and he pointed to the detailed blue prints on
Tom’s desk.
“That is the weather observatory,” Tom said. “An observer there will
predict storms so that we may stay out of their course.”
“It isn’t necessary!” said Mr. Jardine, taking his cigar out of his
mouth, tossing it in the air and catching it between his lips as it
descended. “A little trick I just learned,” he said, with an odd smile.
“I could go on the stage, maybe.”
“Maybe!” murmured Ned.
“Why do you consider the weather observatory unnecessary, Mr. Jardine?”
asked Tom, and his voice was still patient.
“Because,” was the answer, “my dirigible is to be so strong she will
fear no storms, so what’s the use of knowing when they are coming or
from where?”
“The _Silver Cloud_ will outride any ordinary storm,” Tom said. “But it
is well to be advised even of them. I consider the observatory vital and
necessary.”
“I want it enlarged and made into a private cabin for me and my
friends,” said Mr. Jardine. “We don’t need an observatory.”
“What’s that?” cried Tom Swift.
“Enlarge that useless weather observatory and make it a private cabin
for me and my friends,” insisted the fussy little man. “And here are
some other matters. There is too much space given to the crew. Cut it
down by half!”
“Forty men can’t get along in any less space,” Tom said.
“Forty men? I’m not going to carry half that crew!” cried Mr. Jardine.
“We want more room for passengers so we can make some money out of this.
You’ve got to cut off half the crew space.”
“I’ll not do it!” said Tom determinedly.
“And I want one extra big motor put on, just behind the private cabin
you are to build for me,” said Mr. Jardine. “In case the other motors
fail, I can run the ship myself with the extra big one.”
“It is out of the question,” Tom said, and his voice was losing some of
its patience. “I have calculated the power required to move the _Silver
Cloud_, and we have ample, and to spare, in the motors already planned.
Another would not only be unnecessary but a positive danger, placed
where you want it.”
“Well, I’m going to insist on it,” Mr. Jardine said. “I won’t go into
any more details now, but I’ll take this up with you in the morning,
when you are fresher. I understand you just came in from Mt. Camon.”
“Yes,” Tom said, “I did. But morning isn’t going to change my mind about
doing what you request. It is impossible!”
“We’ll talk it over in the morning,” said Mr. Jardine lightly. “Have
another cigar! Oh, I forgot—you don’t smoke. I’ll see you later. About
that dwarf. I want him taken back on and your giant must let him alone.
But we’ll take that up to-morrow.”
He hurried away, lightly humming a song as if there was nothing on his
mind and as if the alterations he proposed were as easily made as
changing the color to go on a new house.
“What did I tell you?” asked Ned, as he and Tom were alone again.
“He is the limit!” exclaimed Tom, in disgust. “Why, he’s crazy to think
those things can be done!”
“He’s a nut, if you ask me!” declared Ned. “Well, you don’t have to do
as he says.”
“You bet I don’t!” exclaimed Tom fervently.
Then he and Ned considered other matters, but Tom Swift could not get
out of his mind certain worrisome thoughts concerning the big dirigible
and the man who had ordered it built and was paying for it. For Ned
reported that the money was still coming in from the Jardine company,
according to contract.
“You’ll just have to stall him along, Tom,” were Ned’s parting words as
he left his chum in the laboratory, for Tom had some experiments to
finish in connection with the _Silver Cloud_.
It was late when the young inventor came out of his shop to go home in a
small car that was in waiting. As he was about to step from his private
office to go to the garage he thought he saw something like the shadow
of a man flit across a lighted, open space in front of the laboratory.
“That dwarf!” exclaimed Tom in a whisper as he stopped and listened.
But he heard no sound and was about to proceed when another shadow of
the night flitted in front of the doorway. This shadow was taller.
“Jardine!” whispered Tom. “What are he and that dwarf doing around here
at this time of night?”