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

by Victor Appleton

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE DESERTED CABIN

  For several seconds the young inventor remained bending over the queermarks in that little sandy path of the lonely field in the midst of thesilent woods. Jackson watched him curiously, and then Tom straightenedup, exclaiming as he did so:

  "I have it! Now I know where it was! I saw marks like these the nightMr. Nestor disappeared. Mr. Damon and I noticed the marks in the duston the road the time we made the forced landing the first night wetried out the silent motor. That's it! They are the same marks! I'msure of it!"

  "I wouldn't go so far as to say that," said Jackson slowly. He was moredeliberate than Tom Swift, a fact for which the young inventor wasoften glad, as it saved him from impulsive mistakes.

  "This may not be the same auto," went on the mechanician. "I'll admit Inever saw square tire marks like those before. Most of the usual onesare circular, diamond-shape or oblong. Some tire manufacturer must havetried a new stunt. But as for saying these marks were made by the samemachine you saw evidences of the night Mr. Nestor disappeared, why,that's going a little too far, Tom."

  "Yes, I suppose it is," admitted the young inventor. "But it's a clewworth following. Maybe Mr. Nestor has been brought to some lonely placelike this, and is being held."

  "Why would any one want to do that?" asked Jackson. "He had no enemies."

  "Well, perhaps those who ran him down and injured him are afraid to lethim go for fear he will prosecute them and ask for heavy damages,"suggested Tom. "They may be holding him a captive until he gets well,and aim on treating him so nicely that he won't bring suit."

  "That's a pretty far-fetched theory," said the mechanician as hecarefully looked at the tracks. "But of course it may be true. Anyhow,these tire marks are rather recent, I should say, and they are made bya new tire. Do you think we can follow them?"

  "I'm going to try!" declared Tom. "The only trouble is we can't tellwhether it was going or coming--that is we don't know which way to go."

  "That's so," agreed his companion. "And so the only thing to do is totravel a bit both ways. The path, or road, or whatever you call it, isplainly enough marked here, though you can't always pick out the tiremarks. They show only on bare ground. The grass doesn't leave anytracks that we can see, though doubtless they are there.

  "But as for thinking this car is the same one the marks of which yousaw on the lonely moor, the night you heard the call for help--that'sgoing too far, Tom Swift."

  "Yes, I realize that. Of course there must be more than one car withtires which have square protuberances. But it's worth taking a chanceon--following this clew."

  "Oh, sure!" agreed Jackson.

  "The only question is, then, which way to go," returned Tom.

  They settled that, arbitrarily enough, by going on in the directionthey had started after leaving the stranded airship. They followed ahalf-defined path, and were rewarded by getting occasional glimpses onbare ground of the odd tire marks.

  Through a devious winding way, now hidden amid a lane of trees, andagain cutting across an open space, the path led. They saw the marksoften enough to make sure they were on the right trail, and in oneplace they saw several different patches of the odd marks.

  They went on perhaps half a mile more, when they came to a lonely roadand saw where the car had turned from that into the wood-lot, as Tomcalled the place where his craft had settled down.

  "Look!" cried the young inventor to Jackson. "They've been here morethan once, and have gone along the road in both directions. They seemto have used this turning into the lot as a sort of stopping place."

  This was plain enough from an examination of the marks in the sandysoil of the road, which was one not often used. The automobile with thequeer, square marks on the tires had turned into the lot, coming andgoing in both directions.

  "This settles it!" cried Tom, when he finished making an examination."There's something farther back in this lot that we've got to see. Thisauto has been coming and going, and we should have followed the tracksthe other way from the point where we first saw them, instead of comingthis way."

  "Except that we've learned the place of departure," suggested Jackson."Evidently the wood-lot is a blind alley. The car goes in, but it cancome out only just at this point, or, at least, it does."

  "That's right!" agreed Tom. "Now the thing to do is to follow our trackback to where we started. There must be some place where the car wentto--some headquarters, or meeting place with some one, farther back inthe lot. If we can only follow the trail back as well as we did coming,we may find out something."

  "Well, let's try, anyhow," suggested Jackson.

  They had no difficulty in making their way back to the spot where theyhad first seen the queer marks. But from then on their task was not soeasy. For sandy or bare patches of earth were not frequent, and theyhad to depend on these to give them direction, for the road wasovergrown and not well defined.

  Often they would search about for some time after leaving one patch ofthe marks before they found another that would justify them in keepingon.

  "They have headquarters, or a rendezvous, somewhere back in this lot!"declared Tom, as they hurried on. "I think we're on the track of amystery."

  "Unless it turns out that some farmer has treated himself to an autowith new tires of square tread, and is hauling wood," said Jackson. "Itmay turn out that way."

  "Yes, it may," agreed Tom. "But, taking everything into consideration,I think we're on the verge of finding out something. Even if we dodiscover that the owner of this auto is only hauling wood, he may beable to help us to a clew as to the whereabouts of Mr. Nestor."

  "How?"

  "Well, maybe he was in his machine on the moor the night the call forhelp came. He may even have aided to carry Mr. Nestor away. And if hedoesn't know a thing about it--which, of course, is possible--the manwho bought these queer tires can tell us who makes them, or who dealsin them, and we can find out what autoists around here have their carsequipped with this odd tread."

  "Yes," agreed Jackson, "that can be done."

  And so they kept on, scouting here and there to either side of thehalf-defined path, until they were far back from the spot where theyhad left the Air Scout.

  "We don't appear to be getting any warmer, as the children say,"remarked Jackson, as he straightened up and looked about, for his backached from so much stooping over to look for the odd marks.

  "We haven't seen anything yet, I'll admit," said Tom. "But it won't bedark for another hour or so, and I vote that we keep on."

  "Oh, I wasn't thinking of giving up!" exclaimed Jackson. "If there'sanything here--at the end of the route, as you might say--we'll findit. Only I hope it doesn't turn out to be just a wood pile, from whichsome farmer has been hauling logs."

  "That would be a disappointment," assented Tom.

  The day was waning, and they realized that they ought not to spend toomuch time on what might turn out to be a wild goose chase. They were ina lonely neighborhood, and while they were not at all apprehensive ofdanger, they felt it would be best to get to shelter before dark.

  "We'll want to send word to Mr. Swift that we're all right."

  "Yes," said Tom, "I'd like to get to a place where I can telephone tohim or Mrs. Baggert. Well, if we don't find something pretty soon we'llhave to turn back. I must complete work on the new motor, for if I'm tooffer it to Uncle Sam for air scout purposes, the sooner I can do sothe better. Things are getting pretty hot over in Europe, and if everthe United States needed aircraft on the western front they need themnow. I want to help all I can, and I also want to help Mary--youunderstand--Miss Nestor."

  "I understand," said Jackson simply. "I only hope you can help her. ButI'm afraid--this may turn out to be nothing--following these marks, youknow."

  "And yet," said Tom slowly, "it would be strange if it was only acoincidence--the two tire marks being the same--the night Mr. Nestordisappeared and now."

  And so they kept on, hoping.

&n
bsp; The half-defined path through the wood-lot led them in a series ofturns and twists, and it extended through a dense patch of woods,growing thickly, where it was so dark that it seemed as if night hadfallen.

  "We can't spend much more time here," said Tom. "If we don't findsomething in the next half mile we'll go back and take up the searchto-morrow. I'm going to find out what's at the end of this road--evenif it's only a wood pile."

  For ten minutes more the two went on, making sure, by occasionalglimpses at the marks, that they were on the right track. Then,suddenly, they saw something which made them feel sure they had reachedtheir goal.

  In a clearing among the trees was a little cabin--a shack of logs--andfrom the appearance it was deserted. There was not a sign of lifearound.