SUSPICIOUS STRANGERS
"Off to Africa; eh?" remarked Ned, as Tom put the envelope in his
pocket. "That's another long jump. But I guess the Flyer can do it."
"Yes, I think so. I say Ned, not so loud," said Tom, who had hurried to
the side of his chum, whispered the last words.
"What's up?" inquired Ned quickly. "Anything wrong?"
"I don't know. But I think we are being watched. Did you notice that
fellow who was in here a minute ago, when I asked for a telegram?"
"Yes, what about him?"
"Well, he's looking in the door now I think. Don't turn round. Just
look up into that mirror on the wall, and you can see his reflection."
"I understand," whispered Ned, as he turned his gaze toward the mirror
in question, a large one, with advertisements around the frame. "I see
him," he went on. "There's some one with him."
"That's what I thought," replied Tom. "Take a good look. Whom do you
think the other chap is?"
Ned looked long and earnestly. By means of the mirror, he could see,
perfectly plain, two men standing just outside the door of the
telegraph office. The portal was only partly open. Ned drew an old
letter from his pocket, and pretended to be showing it to Tom. But, all
the while he was gazing earnestly at the two men. Suddenly one of them
moved, giving Tom's chum a better view of his face.
"By Jove, Tom!" the lad exclaimed in a tense whisper. "If it isn't that
Eckert fellow I'm a cow."
"That's what I thought," spoke Tom coolly. "Not that you're a cow, Ned,
but I believe that this man is one of the moving picture partners, who
are rivals of Mr. Period. I wasn't quite sure myself after the first
glance I had of him, so I wanted you to take a look. Do you know the
other chap--the one who ran out when I asked for my telegram?"
"No, I've never seen him before as far as I know."
"Same here. Come on."
"What are you going to do?"
"Go back to the airship, and tell Mr. Nestor. As one of the directors
in the concern I'm working for. I want his advice."
"Good idea," replied Ned, and they turned to leave the office. The
spying stranger, and William Eckert, were not in sight when the two
lads came out.
"They got away mighty quick," remarked Tom, as he looked up and down
the street.
"Yes, they probably saw us turn to come out, and made a quick get-away.
They might be in any one of these places along here," for the street,
on either side of the telegraph office, contained a number of hotels,
with doors opening on the sidewalk.
"They must be on your trail yet," decided Mr. Nestor when Tom, reaching
the anchored airship, told what had happened. "Well, my advice is to go
to Africa as soon as we can. In that way we'll leave them behind, and
they won't have any chance to get your camera."
"But what I can't understand," said Tom, "is how they knew I was coming
here. It was just as if that one man had been waiting in the telegraph
office for me to appear. I'm sorry, now, that I mentioned to Ned where
we were ordered to. But I didn't think."
"They probably knew, anyway," was Mr. Nestor's opinion. "I think this
may explain it. The rival concern in New York has been keeping track of
Mr. Period's movements. Probably they have a paid spy who may be in his
employ. They knew when he sent you a telegram, what it contained, and
where it was directed to. Then, of course, they knew you would call
here for it. What they did not know was when you would come, and so
they had to wait. That one spy was on guard, and, as soon as you came,
he went and summoned Eckert, who was waiting somewhere in the
neighborhood."
"Bless my detective story!" cried Mr. Damon. "What a state of affairs!
They ought to be arrested, Tom."
"It would be useless," said Mr. Nestor. "They are probably far enough
away by this time. Or else they have put others on Tom's track."
"I'll fight my own battles!" exclaimed the young inventor. "I don't go
much on the police in a case like this, especially foreign police.
Well, my camera is all right, so far," he went on, as he took a look at
it, in the compartment where he kept it. "Some one must always remain
near it, after this. But we'll soon start for Africa, to get some
pictures of a native battle. I hope it isn't the red pygmies we have to
photograph."
"Bless my shoe laces! Don't suggest such a thing," begged Mr. Damon, as
he recalled the strenuous times when the dwarfs held the missionaries
captive.
It was necessary to lay in some stores and provisions, and for this
reason Tom could not at once head the airship for the African jungles.
As she remained at anchor, just outside the city, crowds of Swiss
people came out to look at the wonderful craft. But Tom and his
companions took care that no one got aboard, and they kept a strict
lookout for Americans, or Englishmen, thinking perhaps that Mr. Eckert,
or the spy, might try to get the camera. However, they did not see
them, and a few days after the receipt of the message from Mr. Period,
having stocked up, they rose high into the air, and set out to cross
the Mediterranean Sea for Africa. Tom laid a route over Tripoli, the
Sahara Desert, the French Congo, and so into the Congo Free State. In
his telegram, Mr. Period had said that the expected uprising was to
take place near Stanley Falls, on the Congo River.
"And supposing it does not happen?" asked Mr. Damon. "What if the
natives don't fight, Tom? You'll have your trip for nothing, and will
run a lot of risk besides."
"It's one of the chances I'm taking," replied the young inventor, and
truly, as he thought of it, he realized that the perils of the moving
picture business were greater than he had imagined. Tom hoped to get a
quick trip to the Congo, but, as they were sailing over the big desert,
there was an accident to the main motor, and the airship suddenly began
shooting toward the sands. She was easily brought up, by means of the
gas bags, and allowed to settle gently to the ground, in the vicinity
of a large oasis. But, when Tom looked at the broken machinery, he said:
"This means a week's delay. It will take that, and longer, to fix it so
we can go on."
"Too bad!" exclaimed Mr. Nestor. "The war may be over when we get
there. But it can't be helped."
It took Tom and his friends even longer than he had thought to make the
repairs. In the meanwhile they camped in the desert place, which was
far from being unpleasant. Occasionally a caravan halted there, but,
for the most part, they were alone.
"No danger of Eckert, or any of his spies coming here, I guess," said
Tom grimly as he blew on a portable forge, to weld two pieces of iron
together.
In due time they were again on the wing, and without further incident
they were soon in the vicinity of Stanley Falls. They managed to locate
a village where there were some American missionaries established. They
were friends of Mr. and Mrs. Illington, the missionaries whom Tom had
saved from the red pygmies, as told in the "Electric Rifle" volume of
this series, and they made our hero and his friends welcome.
"Is it true?" asked Tom, of the missionaries who lived not far from
Stanley Falls, "that there is to be a native battle? Or are we too late
for it?"
"I am sorry to say, I fear there will be fighting among the tribesmen,"
replied Mr. Janeway, one of the Christian workers. "It has not yet
taken place, though."
"Then I'm not too late!" cried Tom, and there was exultation in his
voice. "I don't mean to be barbarous," he went on, as he saw that the
missionaries looked shocked, "but as long as they are going to fight I
want to get the pictures."
"Oh, they'll fight all right," spoke Mrs. Janeway. "The poor, ignorant
natives here are always ready to fight. This time I think it is about
some cattle that one tribe took from another."
"And where will the battle take place?" asked Tom.
"Well, the rumors we have, seem to indicate that the fight will take
place about ten miles north of here. We will have notice of it before
it starts, as some of the natives, whom we have succeeded in
converting, belong to the tribe that is to be attacked. They will be
summoned to the defense of their town and then it will be time enough
for you to go. Oh, war is a terrible thing! I do not like to talk about
it. Tell me how you rescued our friends from the red pygmies," and Tom
was obliged to relate that story, which I have told in detail elsewhere.
Several days passed, and Tom and his friends spent a pleasant time in
the African village with the missionaries. The airship and camera were
in readiness for instant use, and during this period of idleness our
hero got several fine films of animal scenes, including a number of
night-fights among the beasts at the drinking pools. One tiger battle
was especially good, from a photographic standpoint.
One afternoon, a number of native bearers came into the town. They
preceded two white men, who were evidently sportsmen, or explorers, and
the latter had a well equipped caravan. The strangers sought the advice
of the missionaries about where big game might be found, and Tom
happened to be at the cottage of Mr. Janeway when the strangers arrived.
The young inventor looked at them critically, as he was introduced to
them. Both men spoke with an English accent, one introducing himself as
Bruce Montgomery, and the other as Wade Kenneth. Tom decided that they
were of the ordinary type of globe-trotting Britishers, until, on his
way to his airship, he passed the place where the native bearers had
set down the luggage of the Englishmen.
"Whew!" whistled Tom, as he caught sight of a peculiarly shaped box.
"See that, Ned?"
"Yes, what is it? A new kind of magazine gun?"
"It's a moving picture camera, or I lose my guess!" whispered Tom. "One
of the old fashioned kind. Those men are no more tourists, or after big
game, than I am! They're moving picture men, and they're here to get
views of that native battle! Ned, we've got to be on our guard. They
may be in the pay of that Turbot and Eckert firm, and they may try to
do us some harm!"
"That's so!" exclaimed Ned. "We'll keep watch of them, Tom."
As they neared their airship, there came, running down what served as
the main village street, an African who showed evidence of having come
from afar. As he ran on, he called out something in a strange tongue.
Instantly from their huts the other natives swarmed.
"What's up now?" cried Ned.
"Something important, I'll wager," replied Tom. "Ned, you go back to
the missionaries house, and find out what it is. I'm going to stand
guard over my camera."
"It's come!" cried Ned a little later, as he hurried into the interior
of the airship, where Tom was busy working over a new attachment he
intended putting on his picture machine.
"What has?"
"War! That native, whom we saw running in, brought news that the battle
would take place day after to-morrow. The enemies of his tribe are on
the march, so the African spies say, and he came to summon all the
warriors from this town. We've got to get busy!"
"That's so. What about those Englishmen?"
"They were talking to the missionaries when the runner came in. They
pretended to have no interest in it, but I saw one wink to the other,
and then, very soon, they went out, and I saw them talking to their
native bearers, while they were busy over that box you said was a
picture machine."
"I knew it, Ned! I was sure of it! Those fellows came here to trick us,
though how they ever followed our trail I don't know. Probably they
came by a fast steamer to the West Coast, and struck inland, while we
were delayed on the desert. I don't care if they are only straight
out-and-out rivals--and not chaps that are trying to take an unfair
advantage. I suppose all the big picture concerns have a tip about this
war, and they may have representatives here. I hope we get the best
views. Now come on, and give me a hand. We've got our work cut out for
us, all right."
"Bless my red cross bandage!" cried Mr. Damon, when he heard the news.
"A native fight, eh? That will be something I haven't seen in some
time. Will there be any danger, Tom, do you think?"
"Not unless our airship tumbles down between the two African forces,"
replied our hero, "and I'll take care that it doesn't do that. We'll be
well out of reach of any of their blow guns, or arrows."
"But I understand that many of the tribes have powder weapons," said
Mr. Nestor.
"They have," admitted Tom, "but they are 'trader's' rifles, and don't
carry far. We won't run any risk from such old-fashioned guns."
"A big fight; eh?" asked Koku when they told him what was before them.
"Me like to help."
"Yes, and I guess both sides would give a premium for your services,"
remarked Tom, as he gazed at his big servant. "But we'll need you with
us, Koku."
"Oh, me stay with you, Mr. Tom," exclaimed the big man, with a grin.
Somewhat to Tom's surprise the two Englishmen showed no further
interest in him and his airship, after the introduction at the
missionaries' bungalow.
With the stolidity of their race the Britishers did not show any
surprise, as, some time afterward, they strolled down toward Tom's big
craft, after supper, and looked it over. Soon they went back to their
own camp, and a little later, Koku, who walked toward it, brought word
that the Englishmen were packing up.
"They're going to start for the seat of war the first thing in the
morning," decided Tom. "Well, we'll get ahead of them. Though we can
travel faster than they can, we'll start now, and be on the ground in
good season. Besides, I don't like staying all night in the same
neighborhood with them. Get ready for a start, Ned."
Tom did not stop to say good-bye to the Englishmen, though he bade
farewell to the missionaries, who had been so kind to him. There was
much excitement in the native town, for many of the tribesmen were
getting ready to depart to help their friends or relatives in the
impending battle.
As dusk was falling, the big airship arose, and soon her powerful
propellers were sending her across the jungle, toward Stanley Falls in
the vicinity of which the battle was expected to take place.