BAD NEWS
MARTIN JARDINE, for he it was, and in company with the dwarf, either had
no intention of concealing his movements, or, now that he was caught,
relinquished such an intention, for when Tom Swift stepped from the
doorway he met the man and Jim Chock coming in.
“Oh, excuse me, Mr. Swift,” Jardine began lightly, as though asking for
a light for his cigar, “but I met Chock after I left you and he begged
so hard that I intercede for him that I agreed to do so. I saw a light
in your office and guessed you were still here, so I turned in. So now
let’s talk things over.”
“Excuse me,” Tom said. “I have nothing against you personally, Chock,”
he said. “But you and Koku would be sure to quarrel, and that would mean
disruption in the shop. I can’t have that.”
“I wouldn’t quarrel with your giant, Mr. Swift. Though he sure did get
me r’iled,” said the dwarf.
“I understand. Perhaps it wasn’t altogether your fault. But Koku has
been with me many years. I know his ways and his failings, and I am not
going to part with him.”
“But, Mr. Swift,” broke in Jardine. “Think how useful a man as small as
Chock will be on the dirigible.”
“I have considered, and I can’t have him. After you take the ship over
you can do as you please. Until I complete it and turn it over to you, I
have the final say as regards the working force. The contracts call for
that.”
“Yes, I know, Mr. Swift——”
“Now, there is no use prolonging the discussion,” Tom interrupted. “I am
tired and need rest. This is a closed matter!”
“All right,” Jardine seemed to assent graciously enough. “I guess you’ll
have to stay away, Jim,” he said to the little man. “But I’ll put you
aboard when the _Silver Cloud_ is my own.”
“You may do as you please then,” Tom said. “And I will now bid you
good-night.”
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning about those changes,” Jardine said,
and Tom did not think it worth while to say it would be useless.
The young inventor remained in his office doorway until he had seen
Jardine and the dwarf leave the premises, and then, going to the main
gate, Tom said to the watchman:
“Don’t let that dwarf in here again, even if he comes with Mr. Jardine.”
“I didn’t let him in this time,” said the man.
“You didn’t! Then how did he get in?”
“Blessed if I know, Mr. Swift. I had orders to let in Mr. Jardine, and I
did, twice to-night. But the dwarf wasn’t with him either time.”
“Then Chock must have been hidden in here all the while,” said Tom.
“That looks bad! I don’t like this a bit. He must have been in here and
met Jardine the second time that man came back.”
“Maybe the dwarf climbed under the fence, same as he tried to do
before,” suggested the watchman. “The charged wire isn’t yet in place.”
“I must see to that at once—first thing in the morning,” Tom said. “I
can’t have things like this going on.”
He gave orders that the plant was to be closely watched that night and
put extra men on duty in the hangar where the dirigible was. But he
could think of no reason why Jardine would want to damage his own
property or smuggle the dwarf in.
“It’s a queer game,” mused Tom, as he went to bed. “As Ned said, he must
be a nut. I’ll be glad when I’ve finished with him.”
However, troubles often vanish with darkness, and the next day, somewhat
to Tom Swift’s surprise, Jardine neither made any reference to his
midnight visit with the dwarf nor did he speak of the unusual changes he
wanted made in the _Silver Cloud_. When he and Tom made the usual
inspection of work on the big machine Jardine said:
“Everything is coming along well, Mr. Swift. I am more than pleased! Now
don’t work too hard over this yourself. Take a few days off. While I’d
like to get the dirigible as soon as possible, I don’t want you to kill
yourself. Everything is fine! Go along as you are.”
“Well, I’ll be darned!” said Tom to Ned, when they were alone. “He must
talk in his sleep or something, to go on this way after what he said
last night.”
“Just a nut!” murmured Ned, with a chuckle, as he made a circular motion
with one finger near his head. “Wheels—going around,” he added. “But
you needn’t worry as long as he pays you.”
“I suppose not,” assented Tom, laughing a little.
For the next week nothing happened, except a lot of hard work. Tom Swift
pushed the labor on the dirigible and, to his delight, Mr. Jardine did
not come near the works. Nor did he send any word about nonsensical
changes or the hiring of the dwarf. That odd creature was not seen
again, and Tom gave orders that he was not to be admitted. The charged
wire at the bottom of the fence was again adjusted and the place was
well guarded.
“Well, Ned,” said Tom one afternoon, when unusually good progress had
been made on the dirigible, “I think I’ll take a few days off and run up
to see Mary.”
“Good idea!” agreed the financial manager. “Give her my love and
remember me to your dad and the Nestors.”
“I will. Don’t you want to come along?”
“I’d like to, but I don’t believe it would be best for us both to be
away at the same time, Tom. I’ll take an outing when you come back.”
“Be sure you do.”
Tom Swift made the second trip to Mt. Camon in a smaller but more speedy
car, and it need not be said that Mary was delighted to see him. The
unexpectedness of his visit made it the more delightful.
“Oh, I’m so glad you came!” she murmured. “I feel safer now.”
“Why, nothing has happened, has there?” Tom asked.
“Oh, no. But I can’t get over thinking there may.”
“That crazy gardener hasn’t been around again, has he?”
“No, the poor fellow is in jail yet, I guess.”
“Then don’t worry,” Tom advised.
“Well, bless my porous plaster!” cried Mr. Damon when he saw Tom a
little later. “You’re a sight for sore eyes! Up for good?”
“No, only for a few days this time. But I expect my next visit will be a
longer one. I hope to finish the season here.”
The hotel was well filled, many new guests having arrived, and when Tom
went down to the dining room he saw a stylishly dressed woman at the
table next to the one where he had a place with his father, Mary, and
her parents. The lady wore many diamonds, yet without an air of display.
With her were two children in their teens, the boy Harry and the girl
Laura.
As Tom left his seat after dinner, Mary having preceded him, he paused a
moment to let the be-diamonded lady pass out first, but she stopped and
spoke to him.
“Excuse me,” she said in pleasant tones, “but aren’t you Tom Swift, the
eminent inventor?”
“I don’t want to say how eminent I am,” said Tom modestly. “But that is
my name.”
“I am glad to meet you,” she went on. “I was told you were here; but
your people, whom I have come to know slightly, said you were not
expected for some time.”
“I ran up unannounced between jobs, so to speak,” said Tom. “I am at
work on a big dirigible.”
“That is what I want to speak to you about,” went on the lady in a low
voice. “Could I have a few minutes’ talk with you alone?”
“What’s this?” thought Tom. “Is this a prospective customer for another
airship to rival the _Silver Cloud_, or does she want to engage passage
on the first trip?”
“Run along, my dears,” said the lady to her children. “Will you come out
on the veranda with me, Mr. Swift?” she went on. “I am sure your wife
will excuse you a moment, won’t you, Mrs. Swift?” This to Mary.
“Of course, Mrs. Jardine! I didn’t know you knew my husband.”
“I took the liberty of introducing myself,” the lady smilingly replied,
while many thoughts surged through Tom’s head as he heard Mary call his
companion “Mrs. Jardine.”
“Are you the wife of the man for whom I am building the big dirigible?”
Tom Swift asked when he and Mrs. Jardine were in a secluded place on the
big hotel veranda. “Excuse me for not recognizing you.”
“How could you, never having seen me before? I am Mrs. Jardine, but not
the one you suppose,” and her voice had in it a quality Tom could not
fathom.
“I am Mrs. Lawrence Jardine,” she went on.
“Lawrence Jardine?” Tom murmured, more and more puzzled.
“The sister-in-law of Martin Jardine for whom, I believe, you are making
a big airship.”
“Yes, certainly,” Tom said. “Martin Jardine is the name.”
“He is my husband’s brother,” went on the lady, and her air grew more
serious. “I have been anxious to get word to you, but I did not just
know how to go about it,” she added. “But when my husband sent me and
the children to this hotel and I found that your family were guests here
and that you were coming, I decided to wait and see you. I have
important news for you—bad news I am afraid.”
“Bad news!” murmured Tom. The puzzle was more complicated.
“Yes. While it is true that Martin Jardine is in partnership with his
brother, my husband, I do not believe that Martin had any authority to
go ahead and order that big airship built. In fact, I am quite sure he
had not. He did it on his own responsibility, and I feel sure my husband
and the other members of the firm will disapprove of it. I should advise
you to stop work at once.”
“This is bad news, indeed!” exclaimed Tom. “But can’t I get in touch
with your husband and settle this matter?” All the suspicions regarding
Martin Jardine rushed to the fore again.
“My husband is in Mexico prospecting for new mines and oil wells,” said
Mrs. Jardine. “I have not heard from him for some time, but I have sent
him word about his brother’s mad project. I think you had better have
nothing more to do with the _Silver Cloud_.”
“This is most surprising!” Tom exclaimed.
“I feared it would be. I am sorry.”
“So am I,” Tom said. “This will make a big difference to me.”
“Yes, I suppose so. Martin was always odd. You must have noticed it, Mr.
Swift.”
“I have. But he seemed to have good business sense, and he has met his
payments promptly.”
“I think he will not meet any more after my husband hears of his latest
freakish project. You are well out of it if you have lost nothing.”
“Oh, we can’t get out of it so easily,” Tom said. “We have invested
large sums ourselves, and hoped to be paid back. This certainly is bad
news,” and with a troubled face Tom paced the veranda.