SUSPICIONS
"Who's there?" suddenly called Tom, and in such a sharp voice that Mr.
Damon started, ready as he was for something unusual.
There was no answer and Tom suddenly switched on all the lights in the
shed. Up to then there had been only a few glowing--just enough for him
to show the new Air Scout to his friend.
"Who's there?" asked Tom again, sharply.
"Bless my opera glasses, Tom!" cried Mr. Damon, "but are you seeing
things?"
"No; but I'm hearing them," answered Tom with a short laugh. "Did you
think you heard some one moving around near the rudders of Silent Sam,
Mr. Damon?"
"No, I can't say that I did. Everything seems to me to be all right."
"Well, it doesn't to me," went on Tom grimly. "I think there is an
intruder in this shed, though how any one could get in when the doors
have been locked all day, is more than I can figure out. But I'm going
to have a look."
"I'll help you," offered Mr. Damon, and, in the bright glare from many
electric lights, the two began a search of the big hangar where the new
craft was kept.
But though the young inventor and his friend went around to the rear of
the aeroplane, walking in opposite directions, they saw no one, nor did
any one try to escape past them.
"And yet I was sure I heard some one in here," declared Tom, when a
search had revealed nothing. "It sounded as if some one were scuffling
softly about in rubber-soled shoes, trying to hide."
"Bless my suspenders!" cried Mr. Damon, "who do you think it could have
been, Tom?"
"Who else but some spy trying to get possession of my secrets?" was the
answer. "But I guess I was too quick for them. They couldn't learn much
from looking at the outside of my muffler, and it hasn't been
disturbed, as far as I can see."
"Who would want to gain a knowledge of it in that unlawful way?" asked
Mr. Damon.
"Perhaps some of the Universal crowd. They may have been disappointed
in perfecting a silent motor themselves, and think stealing my idea
would be the easiest way out of it."
"Do they know you are working on such a model as this Silent Sam of
yours, Tom?"
"Yes, I imagine they do. One of the firm members, as you recall,
overheard something, I think, that gave them a hint as to what my plans
were, though, thanks to the time I fooled the spy, they haven't any
real data to go by, I believe."
"Let us hope not," said Mr. Damon.
Tom and he made a thorough search of the big shed, but found no one,
nor was there any trace of an intruder. Tom notified Jackson, who, in
turn, told the guards and watchmen to be on the lookout for any
suspicious strangers, but none was seen in the vicinity of the Swift
works.
"Well, everything seems to be all right, so we'll have the test,"
remarked Tom, after a further search of the premises. "Now, Mr.
Damon, if all goes as I hope you will see what my new machine can do.
Strain your ears for a sound, and let me know how much you hear."
His men helping him, Tom started the new motor which was tried for the
first time attached to the new craft. No flight was to be made yet, the
motor being tested as though on the block, though, in reality, the
craft was ready for instant flight if need be.
Slowly the great propellers began to revolve, and then Tom, taking his
place in the cockpit, turned on more power. The new craft--Silent
Sam--was made fast so it could not progress even though the propellers
revolved at high speed.
"I'm not sending her to the limit," said Tom to his friend, as the
young inventor throttled down the motor. "If I did I'd tear her loose
from the holding blocks."
"Her!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my typewriter, Tom! but I thought Silent
Sam was a gentleman aeroplane.
"So he is!" laughed the young man, frankly. "I forgot about 'Silent
Sam.' Guess I'll have to say 'him' instead of 'her,' though the latter
sounds more natural. Anyhow what do you think?"
"I think it's wonderful!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "There the motor is,
going at almost full speed, and I can hardly hear a thing. You can the
easier believe that when I say that I can hear you talk perfectly well.
And I guess you hear me, don't you?"
"Yes," replied Tom. "And we don't have to shout, either. This is the
best test ever! I think everything is a success."
"Are you going to take her aloft, Tom?" the eccentric man went on.
"Yes, now that I'm sure the engine is all right. Will you go for a
flight with me?"
"I certainly will! I only wish we could find him, though. I'd go with a
better heart."
"Oh! Mr. Nestor?"
"Yes, I can't imagine what has become of him. It is almost as if the
earth had opened and swallowed him. His disappearance is a great
mystery."
"It surely is," agreed Tom. "Can't seem to get any trace of him. But if
we hear another cry for help, when we have to land, you can make up
your mind I'll investigate more quickly than I did at first."
"I agree with you," said Mr. Damon.
It was nearly evening then, and until it was dark enough for his flight
Tom spent the time tuning up the engine and seeing that all was in
readiness for the latest test. He had decided not to go aloft while it
was light enough for curiosity seekers to note the flight.
Tom rather wished Mary Nestor might have a sail with him in his latest
improved silent Air Scout, but the girl was too much occupied at home
and in trying to find some trace of her father.
Tom, his father, and Mr. Damon had helped all they could, but there
were no results. A private detective had been engaged, but he had no
more of a clew than the regular police.
At last it was dark enough for the flight, and Tom and Mr. Damon took
their places in the machine. Once more the propellers were turned
around, and when the compression had been made, and the spark switched
on, around spun the big wooden blades, and the great craft moved over
the grass.
On and on and up and up sailed Tom and Mr. Damon, and as they left
behind them the shops and the Swift homestead, the two passengers were
aware of their almost silent flight. The big aeroplane, the exhaust of
which, ordinarily, would have nearly deafened them, was now as silent
as a bird.
"Silent Sam for Uncle Sam!" cried Tom in delight, as he went on faster.
"I'm sure the government ought to be glad to get this plane for air
scout work. It's a success! A great success!"
"Yes, so it is!" agreed Mr. Damon. "You do well to speak of it so, Tom."
For, modest as the young inventor was, he felt, in justice to himself,
that he must acknowledge the fact that his craft was a success. For it
rose and sailed almost as silently as a bat, and a few hundred feet
away no one, not seeing it, would have believed a big aeroplane was in
motion.
Tom and Mr. Damon flew about twenty miles at a swift pace, and all the
fault Tom had to find was that the machine was not as steady in flight
as she should have been.
"But I can remedy that with the use of some of dad's gyroscope
stabilizers," he told Mr. Damon.
They returned to the hangar safely, and the first trip of the new
Silent Sam was an assured success.
It was the following day, when Tom was busy in the machine shop
installing the gyroscopes spoken of, that Jackson came to tell him
there was a visitor to see him.
"Who is it?" asked the young inventor.
"Mr. Gale of the Universal Company," was the answer.
"I don't want to see him!" declared Tom quickly. "I have nothing to say
to him after his clumsy threats."
"He seems very much in earnest," said Jackson. "Better see him, if only
for a minute or so."
"All right, I will," assented Tom. "Show him in."
Mr. Gale, as blusteringly bluff as ever, entered the shop. Tom had
carefully put away all papers and models, as well as the finished
machines, so he had no fear that his visitor might discover some secret.
"Oh, Mr. Swift!" began the president of the Universal Company, when he
met the young inventor, "I wish to assure you that what has been done
was entirely without our knowledge. And, though this man may have acted
as our agent at one time, we repudiate any acts of his that might--"
"What are you talking about?" asked Tom in surprise. "Have I been so
impolite as to sleep during part of your talk? I don't understand what
you are driving at."
"Oh, I thought you did," said Gale, and he showed surprise. "I
understood that the man who--"
"Do you mean there was some one here in the shed last night?" cried the
young inventor suddenly, all his suspicions aroused.
"Some one here last night?" repeated Mr. Gale. "No, I don't refer to
last night. But perhaps I am making a mistake. I--er--I--"
"Some one is making a mistake!" said Tom significantly.