CHAPTER XVI

A WARNING

"Whew, how it rains!" exclaimed Ned, as he looked out of the window.

"And it doesn't seem to show any signs of letting up," remarked Tom.

"It's been at it nearly a week now, and it is likely to last a week

longer."

"It's beastly," declared his chum. "How can you test your gun in this

weather?"

"I can't. I've got to wait for it to clear."

"Bless my rubber boots! it's just got to stop some time," declared Mr.

Damon. "Don't worry, Tom."

"But I don't like this delay. I have heard that General Waller has

perfected a new gun--and it's a fine one, from all accounts. He has

the proving grounds at Sandy Hook to test his on, and I'm handicapped

here. He may beat me out."

"Oh, I hope not, Tom!" exclaimed Ned. "I'm going to see what the

weather reports say," and he went to hunt up a paper.

It was several weeks after the completion of Tom's giant cannon. In the

meanwhile the gun had been moved by the steel company to a

little-inhabited part of New York State, some miles from the plant. The

gun had been mounted on an improvised carriage, and now Tom and his

friends were waiting anxiously for a chance to try it.

The work was not complete, for the steel company employees had been

hampered by the rain. Never before, it seemed, had there been so much

water coming down from the clouds. Nearly every day was misty, with

gradations from mere drizzles to heavy downpours. There were

occasional clear stretches, however, and during them the men worked.

A few more days of clear weather would be needed before the gun could

be fastened securely to the carriage, and then Tom could fire one of

the great projectiles that had been cast for it. Not until then would

he know whether or not his cannon was going to be a success.

Meanwhile nothing more had been heard or seen of the spy. He appeared

to have given up his attempts to steal Tom's secret, or to spoil his

plans, if such was his object.

The place of the test, as I have said, was in a deserted spot. On one

side of a great valley the gun was being set up. Its muzzle pointed up

the valley, toward the side of a mountain, into which the gigantic

projectile could plow its way without doing any damage. Tom was going

to fire two kinds of cannon balls--a solid one, and one containing an

explosive.

The gun was so mounted that the muzzle could be elevated or depressed,

or swung from side to side. In this way the range could be varied. Tom

estimated that the greatest possible range would be thirty miles. It

could not be more than that, he decided, and he hoped it would not be

much less. This extreme range could be attained by elevating the gun to

exactly the proper pitch. Of course, any shorter range could, within

certain limits, also be reached.

The gun was pointed slantingly up the valley, and there was ample room

to attain the thirty-mile range without doing any damage.

At the head of the valley, some miles from where the giant cannon was

mounted, was an immense dam, built recently by a water company for

impounding a stream and furnishing a supply of drinking water for a

distant city. At the other end of the valley was the thriving village

of Preston. A railroad ran there, and it was to Preston station that

Tom's big gun had been sent, to be transported afterward, on specially

made trucks, drawn by powerful autos, to the place where it was now

mounted.

Tom had been obliged to buy a piece of land on which to build the

temporary carriage, and also contract for a large slice of the opposite

mountain, as a target against which to fire his projectiles.

The valley, as I have said, was desolate. It was thickly wooded in

spots, and in the centre, near the big dam, which held back the waters

of an immense artificial lake, was a great hill, evidently a relic of

some glacial epoch. This hill was a sort of division between two

valleys.

Tom, Ned, Mr. Damon, with Koku, and some of the employees of the steel

company, had hired a deserted farmhouse not far from the place where

the gun was being mounted. In this they lived, while Tom directed

operations.

"The paper says 'clear' tomorrow," read Ned, on his return. "'Clear,

with freshening winds.'"

"That means rain, with no wind at all," declared Tom, with a sigh.

"Well, it can't be helped. As Mr. Damon says, it will clear some time."

"Bless my overshoes!" exclaimed the odd gentleman. "It always has

cleared; hasn't it?"

No one could deny this.

There came a slackening in the showers, and Tom and Ned, donning

raincoats, went out to see how the work was progressing. They found

the men from the steel concern busy at the great piece of engineering.

"How are you coming on?" asked Tom of the foreman.

"We could finish it in two days if this rain would only let up,"

replied the man.

"Well, let's hope that it will," observed Tom.

"If it doesn't, there's likely to be trouble up above," went on the

foreman, nodding in the direction of the great dam.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that the water is getting too high. The dam is weakening, I

heard."

"Is that so? Why, I thought they had made it to stand any sort of a

flood."

"They evidently didn't count on one like this. They've got the engineer

who built it up there, and they're doing their best to strengthen it. I

also heard that they're preparing to dynamite it to open breeches here

and there in it, in case it is likely to give way suddenly."

"You don't mean it! Say, if it does go out with a rush it will wipe out

the village."

"Yes, but it can't hurt us," went on the foreman. "We're too high up on

the side of the hill. Even if the dam did burst, if the course of the

water could be changed, to send it down that other valley, it would do

no harm, for there are no settlements over there," and he pointed to

the distant hill.

It was near this hill that Tom intended to direct his projectiles, and

on the other side of it was another valley, running at right angles to

the one crossed by the dam.

As the foreman had said, if the waters (in case the dam burst) could be

turned into this transverse valley, the town could be saved.

"But it would take considerable digging to open a way through that side

of the mountain, into the other valley," went on the man.

"Yes," said Tom, and then he gave the matter no further thought, for

something came up that needed his attention.

"Have you your explosive here?" asked the foreman of the young inventor

the next day, when the weather showed signs of clearing.

"Yes, some of it," said Tom. "I have another supply in a safe place in

the village. I didn't want to bring too much here until the gun was to

be fired. I can easily get it if we need it. Jove! I wish it would

clear. I want to get out in my Humming Bird, but I can't if this keeps

up." Tom had brought one of his speedy little airships with him to

Preston.

The following day the clouds broke a little, and on the next the sun

shone. Then the work on the gun went on apace. Tom and his friends were

delighted.

"Well, I think we can try a shot tomorrow!" announced Tom with delight

on the evening of the first clear day, when all hands had worked at

double time.

"Bless my powder-horn!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "You don't mean it!"

"Yes, the gun is all in place," went on the young inventor. "Of course,

it's only a temporary carriage, and not the disappearing one I shall

eventually use. But it will do. I'm going to try a shot tomorrow.

Everything is in readiness."

There came a knock on the door of the room Tom had fitted up as an

office in the old farmhouse.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Me--Koku," was the answer.

"Well, what do you want, Koku?"

"Man here say him must see Master."

Tom and Ned looked at each other, suspicion in their eyes.

"Maybe it's that spy again," whispered Ned.

"If it is, we'll be ready for him," murmured his chum. "Show him in,

Koku, and you come in too."

But the man who entered at once disarmed suspicion. He was evidently a

workman from the dam above, and his manner was strangely excited.

"You folks had better get out of here!" he exclaimed.

"Why?" asked Tom, wondering what was going to happen.

"Why? Because our dam is going to burst within a few hours. I've been

sent to warn the folks in town in time to let them take to the hills.

You'd better move your outfit. The dam can't last twenty-four hours

longer!"

Tom Swift and His Giant Cannon; Or, The Longest Shots on Record · 第 16 / 25 章