Tom Swift and His War Tank; Or, Doing His Bit for Uncle Sam

by Victor Appleton

  Chapter XII

  Bridging a Gap

  Such surprise showed both on the face of Ned Newton and that of the manwho called himself Walter Simpson that it would be hard to say whichwas in the greater degree. For a moment the newcomer stood as if he hadreceived all electric shock, and was incapable of motion. Then, as theechoes of Ned's voice died away and the young bank clerk, being thefirst to recover from the shock, made a motion toward the unwelcome anduninvited intruder, Simpson exclaimed.

  "I will not bother now. Some other time will do as well."

  Then, with a haste that could be called nothing less than precipitate,he made a turn and fairly shot out of the door by which he had enteredthe tank.

  "There he goes!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my speedometer, but there hegoes!"

  "I'll stop him!" cried Ned. "We've got to find out more about him! I'llget him, Tom!"

  Tom Swift was not one to let a friend rush alone into what might bedanger. He realized immediately what his chum meant when he called outthe identity of the intruder, and, wishing to clear up some of themystery of which he became aware when Schwen was arrested and the papershowing a correspondence with this Simpson were found, Tom darted outto try to assist in the capture.

  "He went this way!" cried Ned, who was visible in the glare of thesearchlight that still played its powerful beams over the stern of thetank, if such an ungainly machine can be said to have a bow and stern."Over this way!"

  "I'm with you!" cried Tom. "See if you can pick up that man who justran out of here!" he cried to the operator of the searchlight in theelevated observation section of what corresponded to the conning towerof a submarine. This was a sort of lookout box on top of the tank,containing, among other machines, the searchlight. "Pick him up!" criedTom.

  The operator flashed the intense white beam, like a finger of light,around in eccentric circles, but though this brought into vivid reliefthe configuration of the field and road near which the tank wasstalled, it showed no running fugitive. Tom and Ned wereobserved--shadows of black in the glare--by Mary and her friends in thetank, but there was no one else.

  "Come on!" cried Ned. "We can find him, Tom!"

  But this was easier said than done. Even though they were aided by thebright light, they caught no glimpse of the man who called himselfSimpson.

  "Guess he got away," said Tom, when he and Ned had circled about andinvestigated many clumps of bushes, trees, stumps and other barriersthat might conceal the fugitive.

  "I guess so," agreed Ned. "Unless he's hiding in what we might call ashell crater."

  "Hardly that," and Tom smiled. "Though if all goes well the men whooperate this tank later may be searching for men in real shell holes."

  "Is this one going to the other side?" asked Ned, as the two walkedback toward the tank.

  "I hope it will be the first of my new machines on the Western front,"Tom answered. "But I've still got to perfect it in some details andthen take it apart. After that, if it comes up to expectations, we'llbegin making them in quantities."

  "Did you get him?" asked Mr. Damon eagerly, as the two young men cameback to join Mary and her friends.

  "No, he got away," Tom answered.

  "Did he try to blow up the tank?" asked Mr. Nestor, who had an abnormalfear of explosives. "Was he a German spy?"

  "I think he's that, all right," said Ned grimly. "As to his endeavoringto blow up Tom's tank, I believe him capable of it, though he didn'ttry it to-night--unless he's planted a time bomb somewhere about, Tom."

  "Hardly, I guess," answered the young inventor. "He didn't have achance to do that. Anyhow we won't remain here long. Now, Ned, whatabout this chap? Is he really the one you saw up in the tree?"

  "I not only saw him but I felt him," answered Ned, with a rueful lookat his fingers. "He stepped right on me. And when he came inside thetank to-night I knew him at once. I guess he was as surprised to see meas I was to see him."

  "But what was his object?" asked Mr. Nestor.

  "He must have some connection with my old enemy, Blakeson," answeredTom, "and we know he's mixed up with Schwen. From the looks of him Ishould say that this Simpson, as he calls himself, is the directinghead of the whole business. He looks to be the moneyed man, and thebrains of the plotters. Blakeson is smart, in a mechanical way, andSchwen is one of the best machinists I've ever employed. But thisSimpson strikes me as being the slick one of the trio."

  "But what made him come here, and what did he want?" asked Mary. "Dearme! it's like one of those moving picture plots, only I never saw onewith a tank in it before--I mean a tank like yours, Tom."

  "Yes, it is a bit like moving picture--especially chasing Simpson bysearchlight," agreed the young inventor. "As to what he wanted, Isuppose he came to spy out some of my secret inventions--dad's andmine. He's probably been hiding and sneaking around the works eversince we arrested Schwen. Some of my men have reported seeingstrangers about, but I have kept Shop Thirteen well guarded.

  "However, this fellow may have been waiting outside, and he may havefollowed the tank when we started off a little while ago for the nighttest. Then, when he saw our mishap and noticed that we were stalled, hecame in, boldly enough, thinking, I suppose, that, as I had never seenhim, he would take a chance on getting as much information as he couldin a hurry."

  "But he didn't count on Ned's being here!" chuckled Mr. Damon.

  "No; that's where he slipped a cog," remarked Mr. Nestor. "Well, Tom,I like your tank, what I've seen of her, but it's getting late and Ithink Mary and I had better be getting back home."

  "We'll be ready to start in a little while," Tom said, after a briefconsultation with one of his men. "Still, perhaps it would be just aswell if you didn't ride back with me. She may go all right, and then,again, she may not. And as it's dark, and we're in a rough part of thefield, you might be a bit shaken up. Not that the tank minds it!" theyoung inventor hastened to add "She's got to do her bit over worseplaces than this--much worse--but I want to get her in a little betterworking shape first. So if you don't mind, Mary, I'll postpone yourinitial trip."

  "Oh, I don't mind, Tom! I'm so glad you've made this! I want to see thewar ended, and I think machines like this will help."

  "I'll ride back with you, Tom, if you don't mind," put in Ned. "I guessa little shaking up won't hurt me."

  "All right--stick. We're going to start very soon."

  "Well, I'm coming over to-morrow to have a look at it by daylight,"said Mr. Damon, as he started toward his car.

  "So am I," added Mary. "Please call for me, Mr. Damon."

  "I will," he promised.

  Mr. Nestor, his daughter, and Mr. Damon went back to the automobile,while Ned remained with Tom. In a little while those in the car heardonce more the rumbling and roaring sound and felt the earth tremble.Then, with a flashing of lights, the big, ungainly shape of the tanklifted herself out of the little ditch in which she had come to a halt,and began to climb back to the road.

  Ned Newton stood beside Tom in the control tower of the great tank asshe started on her homeward way.

  "Isn't it wonderful!" murmured Mary, as she saw Tank A lumbering alongtoward the road. "Oh, and to think that human beings made that. To thinkthat Tom should know how to build such a wonderful machine!"

  "And run it, too, Mary! That's the point! Make it run!" cried herfather. "I tell you, that Tom Swift is a wonder!"

  "Bless my dictionary, he sure is!" agreed Mr. Damon.

  Along the road, back toward the shop whence it had emerged, rumbled thetank. The noise brought to their doors inhabitants along the countrythoroughfare, and some of them were frightened when they saw TomSwift's latest war machine, the details of which they could only guessat in the darkness.

  "She'll butt over a house if it gets in her path, knock down trees,chew up barbed-wire, and climb down into ravines and out again, and goover a good-sized stream without a whimper," said Tom, as he steeredthe great machine.

  There was little chance then for Ned to see much o
f the insidemechanism of the tank. He observed that Tom, standing in the forwardtower, steered it very easily by a small wheel or by a lever,alternately, and that he communicated with the engine room by means ofelectric signals.

  "And she steers by electricity, too," Tom told his friend. "That wasone difficulty with the first tanks. They had to be steered by bruteforce, so to speak, and it was a terrific strain on the man in thetower. Now I can guide this in two ways: by the electric mechanismwhich swings the trailer wheels to either side, or by varying the speedof the two motors that work the caterpillar belts. So if one breaksdown, I have the other."

  "Got any guns aboard her--I mean machine guns?" asked Ned.

  "Not yet. But I'm going to install some. I wanted to get the tank inproper working order first. The guns are only incidental, though ofcourse they're vitally necessary when she goes into action. I've got'em all ready to put in. But first I'm going to try the grippers."

  "Oh, you mean the gap-bridgers?" asked Ned.

  "That's it," answered Tom. "Look out, we're going over a rough spotnow."

  And they did. Ned was greatly shaken up, and fairly tossed from side toside of the steering tower. For the tank contained no springs, exceptsuch as were installed around the most delicate machinery, and it waslike riding in a dump cart over a very rough road.

  "However, that's part of the game," Tom observed.

  Tank A reached her "harbor" safely--in other words, the machine shopenclosed by the high fence, inside of which she had been built.

  Tom and Ned made some inquiries of Koku and Eradicate as to whether ornot there had been any unusual sights or sounds about the place. Theyfeared Simpson might have come to the shop to try to get possession ofimportant drawings or data.

  But all had been quiet, Koku reported. Nor had Eradicate seen or heardanything out of the ordinary.

  "Then I guess we'll lock up and turn in," decided Tom. "Come overto-morrow, Ned."

  "I will," promised the young bank clerk. "I want to see more of whatmakes the wheels go round." And he laughed at his own ingenuousness.

  The next day Tom showed his friends as much as they cared to see aboutthe workings of the tank. They inspected the powerful gasolene engines,saw how they worked the endless belts made of plates of jointed steel,which, running over sprocket wheels, really gave the tank its power byproviding great tractive force.

  Any self-propelled vehicle depends for its power, either to move itselfor to push or to pull, on its tractive force--that is, the grip it canget on the ground.

  In the case of a bicycle little tractive power is needed, and this isprovided by the rubber tires, which grip the ground. A locomotivedepends for its tractive power on its weight pressing on its drivingwheels, and the more driving wheels there are and the heavier thelocomotive, the more it can pull, though in that case speed is lost.This is why freight locomotives are so heavy and have so many largedriving wheels. They pull the engine along, and the cars also, by theirweight pressing on the rails.

  The endless steel belts of a tank are, the same as the wheels of alocomotive. And the belts, being very broad, which gives them a largesurface with which to press on the ground, and the tank being veryheavy, great power to advance is thus obtained, though at the sacrificeof speed. However, Tom Swift had made his tank so that it would doabout ten miles and more an hour, nearly double the progress obtainedup to that time by the British machines.

  His visitors saw the great motors, they inspected the compact but notvery attractive living quarters of the crew, for provision had to bemade for the men to stay in the tank if, perchance, it became stalledin No Man's Land, surrounded by the enemy.

  The tank was powerfully armored and would be armed. There were a numberof machine guns to be installed, quick-firers of various types, and inaddition the tank could carry a number of riflemen.

  It was upon the crushing power of the tank, though, that most reliancewas placed. Thus it could lead the way for an infantry advance throughthe enemy's lines, making nothing of barbed wire that would take anartillery fire of several days to cut to pieces.

  "And now, Ned," said Tom, about a week after the night test of thetank, "I'm going to try what she'll do in bridging a gap."

  "Have you got her in shape again?"

  "Yes, everything is all right. I've taken out the weak part in thesteering gear that nearly caused us to run you down, and we're safe inthat respect now. And I've got the grippers made. It only remains tosee whether they're strong enough to bear the weight of my littlebaby," and Tom affectionately patted the steel sides of Tank A.

  While his men were getting the machine ready for a test out on theroad, and for a journey across a small stream not far away, Tom toldhis chum about conceiving the idea for the tank and carrying it outsecretly with the aid of his father and certain workmen.

  "That's the reason the government exempted me from enlisting," Tomsaid. "They wanted me to finish this tank. I didn't exactly want to,but I considered it my 'bit.' After this I'm going into the army, Ned."

  "Glad to hear it, old man. Maybe by that time I'll have this LibertyBond work finished, and I'll go with you. We'll have great timestogether! Have you heard anything more of Simpson, Blakeson andScoundrels?" And Ned laughed as he named this "firm."

  "No," answered Tom. "I guess we scared off that slick German spy."

  Once more the tank lumbered out along the road. It was a mighty engineof war, and inside her rode Tom and Ned. Mary and her father had beeninvited, but the girl could not quite get her courage to the point ofaccepting, nor did Mr. Nestor care to go. Mr. Damon, however, as mightbe guessed, was there.

  "Bless my monkey wrench, Tom!" cried the eccentric man, as he notedtheir advance over some rough ground, "are you really going to makethis machine cross Tinkle Creek on a bridge of steel you carry withyou?"

  "I'm going to try, Mr. Damon."

  A little later, after a successful test up and down a small gully, TankA arrived at the edge of Tinkle Creek, a small stream about twenty feetwide, not far from Tom's home. At the point selected for the test thebanks were high and steep.

  "If she bridges that gap she'll do anything," murmured Ned, as the tankcame to a stop on the edge.