CHAPTER XVIII.
HAPPY HARRY AGAIN
Tom watched his father anxiously. The young inventor knew the losshad been a heavy one, and he blamed himself for not having been morecareful.
"Tell me all about it, Tom," said Mr. Swift at length. "Are you surethe model and papers are gone? How did it happen?"
Then Tom related what had befallen him.
"Oh, that's too bad!" cried Mr. Swift. "Are you much hurt, Tom?Shall I send for the doctor?" For the time being his anxiety overhis son was greater than that concerning his loss.
"No, indeed, dad. I'm all right now. I got a bad blow on the head,but Mrs. Blackford fixed me up. I'm awfully sorry---"
"There, there! Now don't say another word," interrupted Mr. Swift."It wasn't your fault. It might have happened to me. I dare say itwould, for those scoundrels seemed very determined. They aredesperate, and will stop at nothing to make good the loss theysustained on the patent motor they exploited. Now they will probablytry to make use of my model and papers."
"Do you think they'll do that, dad?"
"Yes. They will either make a motor exactly like mine, or constructone so nearly similar that it will answer their purpose. I will haveno redress against them, as my patent is not fully granted yet. Mr.Crawford was to attend to that."
"Can't you do anything to stop them, dad? File an injunction, orsomething like that?"
"I don't know. I must see Mr. Crawford at once. I wonder if he couldcome here? He might be able to advise me. I have had very littleexperience with legal difficulties. My specialty is in other linesof work. But I must do something. Every moment is valuable. I wonderwho the men were?"
"I'm sure one of them was the same man who came here that night--theman with the black mustache, who dropped the telegram," said Tom. "Ihad a pretty good look at him as the auto passed me, and I'm sure itwas he. Of course I didn't see who it was that struck me down, but Iimagine it was some one of the same gang."
"Very likely. Well, Tom, I must do something. I suppose I mighttelegraph to Mr. Crawford--he will be expecting you in Albany--" Mr.Swift paused musingly. "No, I have it!" he suddenly exclaimed. "I'llgo to Albany myself."
"Go to Albany, dad?"
"Yes; I must explain everything to the lawyers and then he canadvise me what to do. Fortunately I have some papers, duplicates ofthose you took, which I can show him. Of course the originals willbe necessary before I can prove my claim. The loss of the model isthe most severe, however. Without that I can do little. But I willhave Mr. Crawford take whatever steps are possible. I'll take thenight train, Tom. I'll have to leave you to look after matters here,and I needn't caution you to be on your guard, though, having gotwhat they were after, I fancy those financiers, or their tools, willnot bother us again."
"Very likely not," agreed Tom, "but I will keep my eyes open, justthe same. Oh, but that reminds me, dad. Did you see anything of atramp around here while I was away?"
"A tramp? No; but you had better ask Mrs. Baggert. She usuallyattends to them. She's so kind-hearted that she frequently givesthem a good meal."
The housekeeper, when consulted, said that no tramps had applied inthe last few days.
"Why do you ask, Tom?" inquired his father.
"Because I had an experience with one, and I believe he was a memberof the same gang who robbed me." And thereupon Tom told of hisencounter with Happy Harry, and how the latter had broken the wireon the motor-cycle.
"You had a narrow escape," commented Mr. Swift. "If I had known thedangers involved I would never have allowed you to take the model toAlbany."
"Well, I didn't take it there, after all," said Tom with a grimsmile, for he could appreciate a joke.
"I must hurry and pack my valise," went on Mr. Swift. "Mrs. Baggert,we will have an early supper, and I will start at once for Albany."
"I wish I could go with you, dad, to make up for the trouble Icaused," spoke Tom.
"Tut, tut! Don't talk that way," advised his father kindly. "I willbe glad of the trip. It will ease my mind to be doing something."
Tom felt rather lonesome after his father had left, but he laid outa plan of action for himself that he thought would keep him occupieduntil his father returned. In the first place he made a tour of thehouse and various machine shops to see that doors and windows weresecurely fastened.
"What's the matter? Do you expect burglars, Master Tom?" askedGarret Jackson, the aged engineer.
"Well, Garret, you never can tell," replied the young inventor, ashe told of his experience and the necessity for Mr. Swift going toAlbany. "Some of those scoundrels, finding how easy it was to robme, may try it again, and get some at dad's other valuable models.I'm taking no chances."
"That's right, Master Tom. I'll keep steam up in the boiler to-night,though we don't really need it, as your father told me you wouldprobably not run any machinery when he was gone. But with a good headof steam up, and a hose handy, I can give any burglars a hotreception. I almost wish they'd come, so I could get square withthem."
"I don't, Garret. Well, I guess everything is in good shape. If youhear anything unusual, or the alarm goes off during the night, callme."
"I will, Master Tom," and the old engineer, who had a living-room ina shack adjoining the boiler-room, locked the door after Tom left.
The young inventor spent the early evening in attaching a new wireto his motor-cycle to replace the one he had purchased while on hisdisastrous trip. The temporary one was not just the proper thing,though it answered well enough. Then, having done some work on a newboat propeller he was contemplating patenting, Tom felt that it wastime to go to bed, as he was tired. He made a second round of thehouse, looking to doors and windows, until Mrs. Baggert exclaimed:
"Oh, Tom, do stop! You make me nervous, going around that way. I'msure I shan't sleep a wink to-night, thinking of burglars andtramps."
Tom laughingly desisted, and went up to his room. He sat up a fewminutes, writing a letter to a girl of his acquaintance, for, inspite of the fact that the young inventor was very busy with his ownand his father's work, he found time for lighter pleasures. Then, ashis eyes seemed determined to close of their own accord, if he didnot let them, he tumbled into bed.
Tom fancied it was nearly morning when he suddenly awoke with astart. He heard a noise, and at first he could not locate it. Thenhis trained ear traced it to the dining-room.
"Why, Mrs. Baggert must be getting breakfast, and is rattling thedishes," he thought. "But why is she up so early?"
It was quite dark in Tom's room, save for a little gleam from thecrescent moon, and by the light of this Tom arose and looked at hiswatch.
"Two o'clock," he whispered. "That can't be Mrs. Baggert, unlessshe's sick, and got up to take some medicine."
He listened intently. Below, in the dining-room, he could hearstealthy movements.
"Mrs. Baggert would never move around like that," he decided. "She'stoo heavy. I wonder--it's a burglar--one of the gang has gotten in!"he exclaimed in tense tones. "I'm going to catch him at it!"
Hurriedly he slipped on some clothes, and then, having softly turnedon the electric light in his room, he took from a corner a smallrifle, which he made sure was loaded. Then, having taken a smallelectric flashlight, of the kind used by police men, and sometimesby burglars, he started on tiptoe toward the lower floor.
As Tom softly descended the stairs he could more plainly hear themovements of the intruder. He made out now that the burglar was inMr. Swift's study, which opened from the dining-room.
"He's after dad's papers!" thought Tom. "I wonder which one thisis?"
The youth had often gone hunting in the woods, and he knew how toapproach cautiously. Thus he was able to reach the door of thedining-room without being detected. He had no need to flash hislight, for the intruder was doing that so frequently with one hecarried that Tom could see him perfectly. The fellow was working atthe safe in which Mr. Swift kept his more valuable papers.
Softly, very softly Tom brought his ri
fle to bear on the back of thethief. Then, holding the weapon with one hand, for it was verylight, Tom extended the electric flash, so that the glare would bethrown on the intruder and would leave his own person in the blackshadows. Pressing the spring which caused the lantern to throw out apowerful glow, Tom focused the rays on the kneeling man.
"That will be about all!" the youth exclaimed in as steady a voiceas he could manage.
The burglar turned like a flash, and Tom had a glimpse of his face.It was the tramp--Happy Harry--whom he had encountered on the lonelyroad.
Tom Swift and His Motor-Cycle; Or, Fun and Adventures on the Road Page 18