“Hello, Garret!” exclaimed the lad, taking it for granted it was the engineer employed by Mr. Swift.
There was no reply, and Tom, with a sudden suspicion, sprang toward the bushes. The shrubbery was more violently agitated and, as the lad reached the screen of foliage, he saw a man spring up from the ground and take to his heels.
“Here! Who are you? What do you want?” yelled Tom.
Hardly had he spoken when from behind a big apple tree another man sprung. It was light enough so that the lad could see his face, and a glimpse of it caused him to cry out:
“Happy Harry, the tramp!”
Before he could call again the two men had disappeared.
CHAPTER XIII
TOM IN DANGER
“Garret! Garret Jackson!” cried Tom as he struggled through the hedge of bushes and ran after the men. “Where are you, Garret? Come on and help me chase these men!”
But there came no answer to Tom’s hail. He could not hear the sound of the retreating footsteps of the men now and concluded that they had made their escape. Still he would not give up, but dashed on, slipping and stumbling, now and then colliding with a tree.
“What can they be doing here?” thought Tom in great anxiety. “Are they after some more of dad’s inventions because they didn’t get his turbine motor?”
“Hello! Who’s there? Who are you?” called a voice suddenly.
“Oh, Garret! Where have you been?” asked the young inventor, recognizing the tones of his father’s keeper. “I’ve been calling you. Some of those scoundrels are around again!”
“Why if it isn’t Tom!” ejaculated the engineer. “However in the world did you get here? I thought you were at Sandport.”
“I’ll explain later, Garret. Just now I want to catch those men, if I can.”
“Which men?”
“Happy Harry and another one. I saw them hiding down by the orchard path. Come on, they’re right ahead of us.”
But though they hunted as well as they were able to in the fast-gathering darkness, there was no trace of the intruders. They had to give up, and Tom, after going to the boathouse to see that the Arrow was all right, returned to the house, where he told the engineer and housekeeper what had brought him back and how he had surprised the two men.
“Is everything all right, Garret?” he concluded. “Dad is nervous and frightened. I must telephone him at the hotel tonight and let him know, for I promised to come back. I can’t, though, until tomorrow.”
“Everything is all right as far as I know,” answered Jackson. “I’ve kept a careful watch and the burglar alarm has been in working order. Mrs. Baggert and I haven’t been disturbed a single night since you went away. It’s curious that the men should be here the very night you come back. Maybe they followed you.”
“I hardly think so, for they didn’t know I was coming.”
“You can’t tell what those fellows know,” commented the engineer. “But, anyhow, I don’t suppose they could have gotten here from Sandport as soon as you did.”
“Oh, yes they could, in their automobile,” declared Tom. “But I don’t believe they knew I was coming. They knew we were away, however, and thought it would be a good time to steal something, I guess. Are you sure nothing has been taken?”
“Perfectly sure, but you and I will take a look around the shop.”
They made a hasty examination, but found nothing disturbed and no signs that anyone had tried to break in.
“I think I’ll telephone dad that everything is all right,” decided Tom. “It is as far as his inventions are concerned, and if I tell about seeing the men it will only worry him. I can explain that part better when I see him. But when I go back, Garret, you will have to be on your guard, since those men are in the neighborhood.”
“I will, Tom. Don’t worry.”
Mr. Swift was soon informed by his son over the telephone that nothing in the shops had been disturbed, and the inventor received the news with evident satisfaction. He requested Tom to come back to the hotel in the morning, in order that the three of them might go for a ride about the lake in the afternoon, and Tom decided to make an early start.
The night passed without incident, though Tom, who kept the gun Mr. Duncan had given him in readiness for use, got up several times, thinking he heard suspicious noises. After an early breakfast, and having once more cautioned the engineer and housekeeper to be on their guard, Tom started back in the Arrow. As it would not be much out of his way, the young inventor decided to cut across the lake and stop at the sanitarium, that he might inquire about Mr. Duncan. He thought he could speed the Arrow up sufficiently to make up for any time he might lose, and, with this in mind, he headed out toward the middle of Lake Carlopa. The engine was working splendidly with the new spark plugs, and Tom was wondering if there was any possible method of getting more revolutions out of the motor. He had about come to the conclusion that a new propeller might answer his purpose when he heard the noise of an approaching boat. He looked up quickly and exclaimed:
“Andy Foger again, and Pete and Sam are with him. It’s a wonder he wouldn’t go off on a trip instead of cruising around so near home. Guess he’s afraid he’ll get stuck.”
Idly Tom watched the Red Streak. It was cutting through the water at a fast rate, throwing up curling foam on either side of the sharp bow. “He seems to be heading this way,” mused Tom. “Well, I’m not going to race with him today.”
Nearer and nearer came the speedy craft, straight for the Arrow. The young inventor shifted his helm in order to get out of Andy’s course, but to his surprise he saw that the red haired lad changed the direction of his own boat.
“Guess he wants to see how close he can come to me,” thought our hero. “Maybe he wants to show how fast he’s going.”
The Red Streak was now so close that the features of the occupants could easily be distinguished. There were grins on the faces of Andy and his cronies.
“Get out of the way or we’ll run you down!” cried the bully. “We’ve got the right of way.”
“Don’t you try anything like that!” shouted Tom in some alarm, not that he was afraid of Andy, but the Red Streak was getting dangerously near, and he knew Andy was not a skillful helmsman. The autoboat was now headed directly at the Arrow and coming on speedily. Andy was bending over the wheel and Tom had begun to turn his, in order to get well out of the way of the insolent, squint-eyed lad and his friends.
Suddenly Andy uttered a cry and leaped up.
“Look out! Look out!” he yelled. “My steering gear has broken! I can’t change my course. Look out!”
The Red Streak was bearing right down on Tom’s boat.
“Shut off your power! Reverse!” shouted Tom.
Andy seemed confused and did not know what to do. Sam Snedecker sprang to the side of his crony, but he knew even less about a motor-boat. It looked as if Tom would be run down, and he was in great danger.
But the young inventor did not lose his head. He put his wheel hard over and then, leaping to his motor, sent it full speed forward. Not a moment too soon had he acted, for an instant later the other boat shot past the stern of the Arrow, hitting it a severe but glancing blow. Tom’s boat quivered from end to end and he quickly shut off the power. By this time Andy had succeeded in slowing down his craft. The young inventor hastily looked over the side of the Arrow. One of the rudder fastenings had been torn loose.
“What do you mean by running me down?” shouted Tom angrily.
“I—I didn’t do it on purpose,” returned Andy contritely. “I was seeing how near I could come to you when my steering gear broke. I hope I haven’t damaged you.”
“My rudder’s broken,” went on Tom “and I’ve got to put back to repair it. I ought to have you arrested for this!”
“I’ll pay for the damage,” replied Andy, and he was so frightened that he was white, in spite of his tan and freckles.
“That won’t do me any good now,” retorted Tom. “It will delay
me a couple of hours. If you try any tricks like that again, I’ll complain to the authorities and you won’t be allowed to run a boat on this lake.”
Andy knew that his rival was in the right and did not reply. The bully and his cronies busied themselves over the broken steering gear, and the young inventor, finding that he could make a shift to get back to his boathouse, turned his craft around and headed for there, in order to repair the damage.
CHAPTER XIV
THE “ARROW” DISAPPEARS
Paying no heed to the occupants of the bully’s boat, who, by reason of their daring, had been responsible for his accident that might have resulted seriously, Tom was soon at his dock. He had it conveniently arranged for hoisting craft out of the water to repair them, and in a few minutes the stern of the Arrow was elevated so that he could get at the rudder.
“Well, it’s not as bad as I thought,” he remarked when, with critical eye, he had noted the damage done. “I can fix it in about an hour if Garret helps me.”
Going up to the house to get some tools and to tell the engineer that he had returned, Tom looked out over the lake and saw Andy’s boat moving slowly off.
“They’ve got her fixed up in some kind of shape,” he murmured. “It’s a shame for a chump like Andy to have a good boat like that. He’ll spoil it in one season. He’s getting altogether too reckless. First thing he knows, he and I will have a clash and I’ll pay back some of the old scores.”
Mr. Jackson was much surprised to see the young inventor home again so soon, as was also Mrs. Baggert. Tom explained what had happened, and he and the engineer went to work repairing the damage done by the Red Streak. As the owner of the Arrow had anticipated, the work did not take long, and, shortly before dinner time, the boat was ready to resume the interrupted trip to Sandport.
“Better stay and have lunch,” urged Mrs. Baggert. “You can hardly get to the hotel by night, anyhow, and maybe it would be better not to start until tomorrow.”
“No, I must get back tonight or dad would be worried,” declared Tom. “I’ve been gone longer now than I calculated on. But I will have dinner here, and, if necessary, I can do the last half of the trip after dark. I know the way now and I have a compass and a good searchlight.”
The Arrow was let down into the water again and tied outside the boathouse ready for a quick start. The dinner Mrs. Baggert provided was so good that Tom lingered over it longer than he meant to, and he asked for a second apple dumpling with hard sauce on. So it was with a very comfortable feeling indeed and with an almost forgiving spirit toward Andy Foger that our hero started down the path to the lake.
“Now for a quick run to Sandport,” he said aloud. “I hope I shan’t see any more of those men and that dad hasn’t been bothered by them. His suspicions about the house weren’t altogether unfounded, for I did see the tramp and some one else sneaking around, but I don’t believe they’ll come back now.”
Tom swung around the path that led to the dock. As he came in sight of the water, he stared as if he could not believe what he saw, or, rather, what he did not see. For there was no craft tied to the string-piece, where he had fastened his motor-boat. He looked again, rubbed his eyes to make sure and then cried out:
“The Arrow is gone!”
There was no doubt of it. The craft was not at the dock. Breaking into a run, Tom hastened to the boathouse. The Arrow was not in there, and a look across the lake showed only a few rowboats in sight.
“That’s mighty funny,” mused the youth. “I wonder—”
He paused suddenly in his thoughts.
“Maybe Garret took it out to try and see that it worked all right,” he said hopefully. “He knows how to run a boat. Maybe he wanted to see how the rudder behaved and is out in it now. He got through dinner before I did. But I should have thought he’d have said something to me if he was going out in it.”
This was the one weak point in Tom’s theory, and he felt it at once.
“I’ll see if Garret is in his shop,” he went on as he turned back toward the house.
The first person he met as he headed for the group of small structures where Mr. Swift’s inventive work was carried on was Garret Jackson, the engineer.
“I—I thought you were out in my boat!” stammered Tom.
“Your boat! Why would I be out in your boat?” and Mr. Jackson removed his pipe from his mouth and stared at the young inventor.
“Because it’s gone!”
“Gone!” repeated the engineer, and then Tom told him. The two hurried down to the dock, but the addition of another pair of eyes was of no assistance in locating the Arrow. The trim little motor craft was nowhere to be seen.
“I can’t understand it,” said Tom helplessly. “I wasn’t gone more than an hour at dinner, and yet—”
“It doesn’t take long to steal a motor-boat,” commented the engineer.
“But I think I would have heard them start it,” went on the lad. “Maybe it drifted off, though I’m sure I tied it securely.”
“No, there’s not much likelihood of that. There’s no wind today and no currents in the lake. But it could easily have been towed off by some one in a rowboat and then you would not have heard the motor start.”
“That’s so,” agreed the youth. “That’s probably how they did it. They sneaked up here in a rowboat and towed the Arrow off. I’m sure of it.”
“And I’ll wager I know who did it,” exclaimed Mr. Jackson energetically.
“Who?” demanded Tom quickly.
“Those men who were sneaking around—Happy Harry and his gang. They stole the boat once and they’d do it again. Those men took your boat, Tom.”
The young inventor shook his head.
“No,” he answered, “I don’t believe they did.”
“Why not?”
“Well, because they wouldn’t dare come back here when they knew we’re on the lookout for them. It would be too risky.”
“Oh, those fellows don’t care for risk,” was the opinion of Mr. Jackson. “Take my word for it, they have your boat. They have been keeping watch, and as soon as they saw the dock unprotected they sneaked up and stole the Arrow.”
“I don’t think so,” repeated Mr. Swift’s son.
“Who do you think took it then?”
“Andy Foger!” was the quick response. “I believe he and his cronies did it to annoy me. They have been trying to get even with me-or at least Andy has—for outbidding him on this boat. He’s tried several times, but he hasn’t succeeded—until now. I’m sure Andy Foger has my boat,” and Tom, with a grim tightening of his lips, swung around as though to start in instant pursuit.
“Where are you going?” asked Mr. Jackson.
“To find Andy and his cronies. When I locate them I’ll make them tell me where my boat is.”
“Hadn’t you better send some word to your father? You can hardly get to Sandport now, and he’ll be worried about you.”
“That’s so, I will. I’ll telephone dad that the boat—no, I’ll not do that either, for he’d only worry and maybe get sick. I’ll just tell him I’ve had a little accident, that Andy ran into me and that I can’t come back to the hotel for a day or two. Maybe I’ll be lucky to find my boat in that time. But dad won’t worry then, and, when I see him, I can explain. That’s what I’ll do,” and Tom was soon talking to Mr. Swift by telephone.
The inventor was very sorry his son could not come back to rejoin him and Ned, but there was no help for it, and, with as cheerful voice as he could assume, the lad promised to start for Sandport at the earliest opportunity.
“Now to find Andy and my boat!” Tom exclaimed as he hung up the telephone receiver.
CHAPTER XV
A DISMAYING STATEMENT
Trouble is sometimes good in a way; it makes a person resourceful. Tom Swift had had his share of annoyances of late, but they had served a purpose. He had learned to think clearly and quickly. Now, when he found his boat stolen, he at once began to map out a plan of a
ction.
“What will you do first?” asked Mr. Jackson as he saw his employer’s son hesitating.
“First I’m going to Andy Foger’s house,” declared the young inventor. “If he’s home I’m going to tell him what I think of him. If he’s not, I’m going to find him.”
“Why don’t you take your sailboat and run down to his dock?” suggested the engineer. “It isn’t as quick as your motor-boat, but it’s better than walking.”
“So it is,” exclaimed the lad. “I will use my catboat. I had forgotten all about it of late. I’m glad you spoke.”
He was soon sailing down the lake in the direction of the boathouse on the waterfront of Mr. Foger’s property. It needed but a glance around the dock to show him that the Red Streak was not there, but Tom recollected the accident to the steering gear and thought perhaps Andy had taken his boat to some wharf where there was a repair shop and there left it to return home himself. But inquiry of Mrs. Foger, who was as nice a woman as her son was a mean lad, gave Tom the information that his enemy was not at home.
“He telephoned to me that his boat was damaged,” said Mrs. Foger gently, “and that he had taken it to get fixed. Then, he said, he and some friends were going on a little cruise and might not be back tonight.”
“Did he say where he was going?” asked our hero, who did not tell Andy’s mother why he wanted to see her son.
“No, and I’m worried about him. Sometimes I think Andy is too—well, too impetuous, and I’m afraid he will get into trouble.”
Tom, in spite of his trouble, could hardly forbear smiling. Andy’s mother was totally unaware of the mean traits of her son and thought him a very fine chap. Tom was not going to undeceive her.
“I’m afraid something will happen to him,” she went on. “Do you think there is any danger being out on the lake in a motor-boat, Mr. Swift? I understand you have one.”
“Yes, I have one,” answered Tom. He was going to say he had once had one, but thought better of it. “No, there is very little danger this time of year,” he added.
The Tom Swift Megapack Page 20