Tom Swift and His Air Scout; Or, Uncle Sam's Mastery of the Sky

by Victor Appleton

  CHAPTER XIII

  SOMETHING QUEER

  "Did you hear that?" asked Tom Swift of his companion.

  "Hear it? Bless my ear drums, I should say I did hear it! Some one isin trouble, Tom. Caught in a bog, most likely, the same as that spychap who was at your place. That's it--caught in a bog!"

  "There isn't any bog or swamp around here, Mr. Damon. If there was Ishouldn't have tried a landing. No, it's something else besides that.Hark!"

  Again the cry sounded, seeming to come from a point behind the landingplace of the silent airship. It was clear and distinct:

  "Help! Help! They are--"

  The voice seemed to die away in a gurgle, as though the person's mouthhad been covered quickly.

  "He's sinking, Tom! He's sinking!" cried Mr. Damon. "I once heard a manwho almost drowned cry out, and it sounded exactly like that!"

  "But there isn't any water around here for any one to drown in,"declared Tom. "It's a big, dry meadow. I know where we are."

  "Then what is it?"

  "I don't know, but we're going to find out. Some one attacked by someone else--or something, I should say," ventured the young inventor.

  "Something! do you mean a wild beast, Tom?"

  "No, for there aren't any of those here any more than there is water.Though it may be that some farmer's bull or a savage dog has got looseand has attacked some traveler. But, in that case I think we would hearbellows or barks, and all I heard was a cry for help."

  "The same with me, Tom. Let's investigate;"

  "That's what I intend doing. Come on. The airship will be all rightuntil we come back."

  "Better take a light--hadn't you? It's dark, even if the moon does shownow and then," suggested Mr. Damon.

  "Guess you are right," agreed Tom. Aboard his airship there wereseveral small but powerful portable electric lights, and after securingone of these Tom and Mr. Damon started for the spot whence the call forhelp had come. As they walked along, their feet making no noise on thesoft turf, they listened intently for a repetition of the call for aid.

  "I don't hear anything," said Tom, after a bit.

  "Nor I," added Mr. Damon. "We don't know exactly which way to go, Tom."

  "That's right. Guess we'd better give him a hail; whoever it is."

  Tom came to a halt, and raising his voice to a shout called:

  "Hello there! What's the matter? We'll help you if you can tell uswhich way to come!"

  They both listened intently, but no voice answered them. At the sametime, however, they were aware of a sound as of hurrying feet, andthere seemed to be muttered imprecations not far away. Tom and Mr.Damon looked in the direction of the sound, and the young inventorflashed his light. But there was a clump of bushes and trees at thatpoint and the electrical rays did not penetrate very far.

  "Some one's over there!" exclaimed Tom in a whisper. "We'd better goand see what it is."

  "All right," agreed Mr. Damon, and he, too, spoke in a low voice.

  Why they did this when their previous talk had been in ordinary tones,and when Tom had shouted so loudly, they did not stop to reason aboutor explain just then. But later they both admitted that they whisperedbecause they thought there was something wrong on foot--because theyfeared a crime was being committed and they wanted to surprise theperpetrators if they could.

  And it was this fact of their whispering that enabled the two to hearsomething that, otherwise, they might not have heard. And this was thesound of some vehicle hurrying away--an automobile, if Tom was anyjudge. The cries for help had been succeeded by stifled vocal sounds,and these, in turn, by the noise of wheels on the ground.

  "What does it all mean?" asked Mr. Damon in a whisper.

  "I don't know," answered Tom, resolutely, "but we've got to find out.Come on."

  They advanced toward the dark clump of trees and low bushes. There wasno need to be especially cautious in regard to being silent, as theirfeet made little, if any, sound on the deep grass. And, as Tom walkedin advance, now and then flashing his light, Mr. Damon suddenly caughthim by the coat.

  "What is it?" asked the young inventor.

  "Look! Just over the top of that hill, where the moon shines. Don'tyou see an automobile outlined?"

  Tom looked quickly.

  "I do," he answered. "There's a road from here, just the other side ofthose trees, to that hill. The auto must have gone that way. Well,there's no use in trying to follow it now. Whoever it was has gottenaway."

  "But they may have left some one behind, Tom. We'd better look in andaround those trees."

  "I suppose we had, but I don't believe we'll find anything. I canpretty nearly guess, now, what it was."

  "What?" asked Mr. Damon.

  "Well, some chauffeur was out for a ride in his employer's car withoutpermission. He got here, had an accident--maybe some friends he tookfor a ride were hurt and they called for help. The chauffeur knew ifthere was any publicity he'd be blamed, and so he got away as quicklyas he could. Guess the accident--if that's what it was--didn't amountto much, or they couldn't have run the car off. We've had our troublefor our pains."

  "Well, maybe you're right, Tom Swift, but all the same, I'd like tohave a look among those trees," said Mr. Damon.

  "Oh. we'll look, all right," assented Tom, "but I doubt if we findanything."

  And he was right. They walked in and about the little grove, flashingthe light at intervals, but beyond marks of auto wheels in the dust ofthe road, which was near the clump of maples, there was nothing toindicate what had happened.

  "Though there was some sort of fracas," declared Tom. "Look where thedust is trampled down. There were several men here, perhaps skylarking,or perhaps it was a fight."

  "Some one must have been hurt, or they wouldn't have cried for help,"said Mr. Damon.

  "Well, that's so. But perhaps it was some one not used to riding inautos, and he may have imagined the accident was worse than it was, andcalled for help involuntarily. There is no evidence of any seriousaccident having happened--no spots of blood, at any rate," and Tomlaughed at his own grimness. "It was a new car, too, or at least onewith new tires on."

  "How do you know?" asked Mr. Damon.

  "Tell by the plain marks of the rubber tread in the dust," was theanswer. "Look," and Tom pointed to the wheel marks in the focus of hiselectric lamp. "It's a new tire, too, with square protuberances on thetread instead of the usual diamond or round ones. A new kind of tire,all right."

  He and Mr. Damon remained for a few minutes looking about the placewhence had come the calls for help, and then the eccentric man remarked:

  "Well, as long as we can't do anything here, Tom, we might as welltravel on; what do you say?"

  "I agree with you. There isn't any use in staying. We'll get the AirScout fixed up and travel back home. But this was something queer,"mused Tom. "I hope it doesn't turn out later that a crime has beencommitted, and we didn't show enough gumption to prevent it."

  "We couldn't prevent it. We heard the cries as soon as we landed."

  "Yes, but if we had rushed over at once we might have caught thefellows. But I guess it was only a slight accident, and some one wasmore frightened than hurt. We'll have to let it go at that."

  But the more he thought about it the more Tom Swift thought there wassomething queer in that weird cry for help on the lonely meadow in thedarkness of the night.