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ТОМ
SWIFT
AND HIS
MOTORCYCLE
VICTOR
APPLETON
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ID86 Samuel
Jun 1910g. 26
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Harvard College
Library

VERI
TASTE
FROM THE BEQUEST OF
Lucy Osgood
OF MEDFORD, MASSACHUSETTS












So QUICKLY DID THE MAN APPEAR THAT TOM WAS ALMOST
UPON HIM IN AN INSTANT.
Page 89.
Tom Swift and His Motor Cycle.


TOM SWIFT AND
HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
OR
FUN AND ADVENTURES ON THE ROAD
BY
VICTOR APPLETON
AUTHOR OF "STOM SWOT AND HIS MUTOR BOAT," "TOM SWITT ANT AR AIR-
SHIP," "oom SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT," ETC.
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS


Jovano.26
ARD COLLE
LLEGE
HARVARD
SEP 3 i936
LIBRATY
micry (Ngordfccock
BOOKS BY VICTOR APPLETON
THE TOM SWIFT SERIES
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
Or Fun and Adventure on the Road
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-BOAT
Or the Rivals of Lake Carlopa
TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP
Or the Stirring Cruise of the Red Cloud
TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT
Or Under the Ocean for Sunken Treasure
TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT
Or the Speediest Car on the Road
(Other Volumes in preparation)
tamo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, per volume, 50 cents,
postpaid
GROSSET & DUNLAP
NEW YORK
PUBLISHERS
COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY
GROSSET & DUNLAP
Tom Swift and His Motor-Cycle


OVERHEARS
ETHING..
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I A Narrow Escape.............
II TOM OVERHEARS SOMETHING..............
III IN A SMASH-UP.......
IV TOM AND A MOTOR-CYCLE.........
V MR. SWIFT Is ALARMED............
VI AN INTERVIEW IN THE Dark.
VII OFF ON A SPIN......
VIII SUSPICIOUS Actions.......
IX A FRUITLESS Pursuit..........
X OFF TO ALBANY...............
XI A VINDICTIVE TRAMP.............
XII THE MEN IN THE AUT.............
XIII CAUGHT IN A STORM.............
XIV ATTACKED From Behind...
XV A Vain SEARCH.....
XVI Back HOME. .......
XVII MR. SWIFT IN DESPAIR...........
XVIII HAPPY HARRY AGAIN........
XIX TOM ON A HUNT...........
XX ERADICATE Saws Wood......
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105
14/
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CONTENTS
XXI ERADICATE GIVES A CLUE.....
XXII THE STRANGE Mansion.
XXIII Tom Is PURSUED..............
XXIV UNEXPECTED HELP.........
XXV THE CAPTURE-GOOD-BY.......
........
.........


TOM SWIFT AND HIS
MOTOR-CYCLE
CHAPTER I
A NARROW ESCAPE
"That's the way to do it! Whoop her up,
Andy! Shove the spark lever over, and turn on
more gasolene! We'll make a record this trip."
Two lads in the tonneau of a touring car, that
was whirling along a country road, leaned for-
ward to speak to the one at the steering wheel.
The latter was a red-haired youth, with some-
what squinty eyes, and not a very pleasant face,
but his companions seemed to regard him with
much favor. Perhaps it was because they were
riding in his automobile.
"Whoop her up, Andy!" added the lad on the
seat beside the driver. "This is immense!"
"I rather thought you'd like it," remarked
Andy Foger, as he turned the car to avoid a stone


2
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
in the road. "I'll make things hum around Shop-
ton!"
"You have made them hum already, Andy,"
commented the lad beside him. "My ears are
ringing. Wow! There goes my cap!"
As the boy spoke, the breeze, created by the
speed at which the car was traveling, lifted off
his cap, and sent it whirling to the rear.
Andy Foger turned for an instant's glance
behind. Then he opened the throttle still wider,
and exclaimed:
"Let it go, Sam. We can get another. I want
to see what time I can make to Mansburg! I
want to break a record, if I can."
"Look out, or you'll break something else!"
cried a lad on the rear seat. "There's a fellow
on a bicycle just ahead of us. Take care, Andy!"
"Let him look out for himself," retorted Foger,
as he bent lower over the steering wheel, for the
car was now going at a terrific rate. The youth
on the bicycle was riding slowly along, and did
not see the approaching automobile until it was
nearly upon him. Then, with a mean grin, Andy
Foger pressed the rubber bulb of the horn with
sudden energy, sending out a series of alarm-
ing blasts.
"It's Tom Swift!" cried Sam Snedecker.
"Look out, or you'll run him down !"


A NARROW ESCAPE
“Let him keep out of my way," retorted Andy
savagely.
The youth on the wheel, with a sudden spurt
of speed, tried to cross the highway. He did
manage to do it, but by such a narrow margin
that in very terror Andy Foger shut off the power,
jammed down the brakes and steered to one side.
So suddenly was he obliged to swerve over that
the ponderous machine skidded and went into the
ditch at the side of the road, where it brought
up, tilting to one side.
Tom Swift, his face rather pale from his nar-
row escape, leaped from his bicycle, and stood
regarding the automobile. As for the occupants
of that machine, from Andy Foger, the owner,
to the three cronies who were riding with him,
they all looked very much astonished.
"Are we—is it damaged any, Andy?" asked
Sam Snedecker.
"I hope not," growled Andy. "If my car's
hurt it's Tom Swift's fault!"
He leaped from his seat and made a hurried
inspection of the machine. He found nothing the
matter, though it was more from good luck than
good management. Then Andy turned and
looked savagely at Tom Swift. The latter, stand-
ing his wheel up against the fence, walked for-
ward.


4
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"What do you mean by getting in the way like
that?" demanded Andy with a scowl. "Don't
you see that you nearly upset me?”.
"Well, I like your nerve, Andy Foger!" cried
Tom. "What do you mean by nearly running me
down? Why didn't you sound your horn? You
automobilists take too much for granted! You
were going faster than the legal rate, anyhow!"
"I was, eh?" sneered Andy.
"Yes, you were, and you know it. I'm the
one to make a kick, not you. You came pretty
near hitting me. Me getting in your way! I
guess I've got some rights on the road!"
"Aw, go on!" growled Andy, for he could
think of nothing else to say. "Bicycles are a
back number, anyhow."
"It isn't so very long ago that you had one,"
retorted Tom. "First you fellows know, you'll
be pulled in for speeding."
"I guess we had better go slower, Andy," ad-
vised Sam in a low voice. "I don't want to be
arrested."
"Leave this to me," retorted Andy. "I'm run-
ning this tour. The next time you get in my way
I'll run you down!" he threatened Tom. "Come
on, fellows, we're late now, and can't make a
record run, all on account of him," and Andy got


.1 NARROW ESCAPE
5
back into the car, followed by his cronies, who
had hurriedly alighted after their thrilling stop.
"If you try anything like this again you'll wish
you hadn't," declared Tom, and he watched the
automobile party ride off.
"Oh, forget it!" snapped back Andy, and he
laughed, his companions joining.
Tom Swift said nothing in reply. Slowly he
remounted his wheel and rode off, but his thoughts
toward Andy Foger were not very pleasant ones.
Andy was the son of a wealthy man of the town,
and his good fortune in the matter of money
seemed to have spoiled him, for he was a bully
and a coward. Several times he and Tom Swift
had clashed, for Andy was overbearing. But
this was the first time Andy had shown such a
vindictive spirit.
"He thinks he can run over everything since
he got his new auto," commented Tom aloud as
he rode on. "He'll have a smash-up some day,
if he isn't careful. He's too fond of speeding.
I wonder where he and his crowd are going?"
Musing over his narrow escape Tom rode on,
and was soon at his home, where he lived with
his widowed father, Barton Swift, a wealthy in-
ventor, and the latter's housekeeper, Mrs. Bag-
gert. Approaching a machine shop, one of several
built near his house by Mr. Swift, in which he con-


A NARROW ESCAPE
getting a patent for the turbine. That's why I'm
so particular about not wanting it mailed here.
Several times before I have posted letters here,
only to have the information contained in them
leak out before my attorneys received them. I
do not want that to happen in this case. Another
thing; don't speak about my new invention in
Merton's shop when you stop for the bolts."
"Why, do you think he gave out information
concerning your work?"
"Well, not exactly. He might not mean to,
but he told me the other day that some strangers
were making inquiries of him, about whether he
ever did any work for me."
"What did he tell them ?"
"He said that he occasionally did, but that most
of my inventive work was done in my own shops,
here. He wanted to know why the men were ask-
ing such questions, and one of them said they ex-
pected to open a machine shop soon, and wanted
to ascertain if they might figure on getting any of
my trade. But I don't believe that was their ob-
ject."
"What do you think it was?"
"I don't know, exactly, but I was somewhat
alarmed when I heard this from Merton. So I
am going to take no risks. That's why I send
this letter to Mansburg. Don't lose it, and don'l


8
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
forget about the bolts. Here is a blue-print of
them, so you can see if they come up to the speci-
fications."
Tom rode off on his wheel, and was soon spin-
ning down the road.
"I wonder if I'll meet Andy Foger and his
cronies again?" he thought. "Not very likely
to, I guess, if they're off on a tour. Well, I'm
just as well satisfied. He and I always seem to
get into trouble when we meet." Tom was not
destined to meet Andy again that day, but the
time was to come when the red-haired bully was
to cause Tom Swift no little trouble, and get him
into danger besides. So Tom rode along, think-
ing over what his father had said to him about
the letter he carried.
Mr. Barton Swift was a natural inventor. From
a boy he had been interested in things mechanical,
and one of his first efforts had been to arrange a
system of pulleys, belts and gears so that the
windmill would operate the churn in the old farm-
house where he was born. The fact that the mill
went so fast that it broke the churn all to pieces
did not discourage him, and he at once set to work
changing the gears. His father had to buy a
new churn, but the young inventor made his plan
work on the second trial, and thereafter his
mother found butter-making easy.


A NARROW ESCAPE
9
From then on Barton Swift lived in a world of
inventions. People used to say he would never
amount to anything, that inventors never did, but
•Mr. Swift proved them all wrong by amassing a
'considerable fortune out of his many patents. He
grew up, married and had one son, Tom. Mrs.
Barton died when Tom was three years old, and
since then he had lived with his father and a suc-
cession of nurses and housekeepers. The last
woman to have charge of the household was a
Mrs. Baggert, a motherly widow, and she suc-
ceeded so well, and Tom and his father formed
such an attachment for her, that she was regarded
as a fixture, and had now been in charge ten
years.
Mr. Swift and his son lived in a handsome
house on the outskirts of the village of Shopton,
in New York State. The village was near a large
body of water, which I shall call Lake Carlopa,
and there Tom and his father used to spend many
pleasant days boating, for Tom and the inventor
were better chums than many boys are, and they
kwere often seen together in a craft rowing about,
Jr fishing. Of course Tom had some boy friends,
i but he went with his father more often than he
did with them.
Though many of Mr. Swift's inventions paid
him well, he was constantly seeking to perfect


10
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
others. To this end he had built near his home
several machine shops, with engines, lathes and
apparatus for various kinds of work. Tom, too,
had the inventive fever in his veins, and had
planned some useful implements and small ma:
chines.
Along the pleasant country roads on a fine day
in April rode Tom Swift on his way to Mansburg
to register the letter. As he descended a little
hill he saw, some distance away, but coming to-
ward him, a great cloud of dust.
"Somebody must be driving a herd of cattle
along the road," thought Tom. "I hope they
don't get in my way, or, rather, I hope I don't
get in theirs. Guess I'd better keep to one side,
yet there isn't any too much room."
The dust-cloud came nearer. It was so dense
that whoever or whatever was making it could
not be distinguished.
"Must be a lot of cattle in that bunch," mused
the young inventor, "but I shouldn't think they'd
trot them so on a warm day like this. Maybe
they're stampeded. If they are I've got to look
out." This idea caused him some alarm. .
He tried to peer through the dust-cloud, but
could not. Nearer and nearer it came. Tom kept
on, taking care to get as far to the side of the
road as he could. Then from the midst of the


A NARROW ESCAPE
II
11
TIC:
enveloping mass came the sound of a steady
"chug-chug."
"It's a motor-cycle!" exclaimed Tom. "He
must have his muffler wide open, and that's kick-
ing up as much dust as the wheels do. Whew!
But whoever's on it will look like a clay image at
the end of the line !"
Now that he knew it was a fellow-cyclist who
was raising such a disturbance, Tom turned more
toward the middle of the road. As yet he had
not had a sight of the rider, but the explosions
of the motor were louder. Suddenly, when the
first advancing particles of dust reached him, al-
most making him sneeze, Tom caught sight of
the rider. He was a man of middle age, and he
was clinging to the handle-bars of the machine.
The motor was going at full speed.
Tom quickly turned to one side, to avoid the
worst of the dust. The motor-cyclist glanced at
the youth, but this act nearly proved disastrous
for him. He took his eyes from the road ahead
for just a moment, and he did not see a large
stone directly in his path. His front wheel hit
Ic, and the heavy machine, which he could not
control very well, skidded over toward the lad
on the bicycle. The motor-cyclist bounced up in
the air from the saddle, and nearly lost his hold
on the handle-bars.


12
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"Look out!" cried Tom. "You'll smash into
me!"
"I'm—I'm—try-ing -- not to!" were the
words that were rattled out of the middle-aged
man.
Tom gave his wheel a desperate twist to get
out of the way. The motor-cyclist tried to do the
same, but the machine he was on appeared to
want matters its own way. He came straight for
Tom, and a disastrous collision might have re-
sulted had not another stone been in the way. The
front wheel hit this, and was swerved to one side.
The motor-cycle flashed past Tom, just grazing
his wheel, and then was lost to sight beyond in a
cloud of dust that seemed to follow it like a halo.
"Why don't you learn to ride before you come
out on the road !" cried Tom somewhat angrily.
Like an echo from the dust-cloud came floating
back these words :
"I'm—trying—to!" Then the sound of the
explosions became fainter.
"Well, he's got lots to learn yet!" exclaimed
Tom. "That's twice to-day I've nearly been run
down. I expect I'd better look out for the third
time. They say that's always fatal," and the lad
leaped from his wheel. "Wonder if he bent any
of my spokes?" the young inventor continued as
he inspected his bicycle.


CHAPTER II
TOM OVERHEARS SOMETHING
"Everything seems to be all right," Tom re-
marked, "but another inch or so and he'd have
crashed into me. I wonder who he was? I wish
I had a machine like that. I could make better
time than I can on my bicycle. Perhaps I'll get
one some day. Well, I might as well ride on."
Tom was soon at Mansburg, and going to the
post-office handed in the letter for registry. Bear-
ing in mind his father's words, he looked about
to see if there were any suspicious characters, but
the only person he noticed was a well-dressed
man, with a black mustache, who seemed to be
intently studying the schedule of the arrival and
departure of the mails.
"Do you want the receipt for the registered
letter sent to you here or at Shopton ?" asked the
clerk of Tom. "Come to think of it, though, it
will have to come here, and you can call for it.
I'll have it returned to Mr. Barton Swift, care of


14
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
general delivery, and you can get it the next time
you are over," for the clerk knew Tom.
"That will do," answered our hero, and as he
turned away from the window he saw that the
anan who had been inquiring about the mails was
regarding him curiously. Tom thought nothing
of it at the time, but there came an occasion when
he wished that he had taken more careful note
of the well-dressed individual. As the youth
passed out of the outer door he saw the man walk
over to the registry window.
"He seems to have considerable mail business,"
thought Tom, and then the matter passed from
his mind as he mounted his wheel and hurried
to the machine shop.
"Say, I'm awfully sorry," announced Mr. Mer-
ton when Tom said he had come for the bolts,
"but they're not quite done. They need polish-
ing. I know I promised them to your father to-
day, and he can have them, but he was very par-
ticular about the polish, and as one of my best
workers was taken sick, I'm a little behind."
"How long will it take to polish them?" asked
Tom.
"Oh, about an hour. In fact, a man is working
on them now. If you could call this afternoon
they'll be ready. Can you?"
"I s'pose I've got to," replied Tom good-


TOM OVERHEARS SOMETHING
15
naturedly. "Guess I'll have to stay in Mansburg
for dinner. I can't get back to Shopton in time
now."
"I'll be sure to have them for you after dinner,"
promised Mr. Merton. "Now, there's a matter
I want to speak to you about, Tom. Has your
father any idea of giving the work he has been
turning over to me to some other firm?"
"Not that I know of. Why?" and the lad
showed his wonder.
"Well, I'll tell you why. Some time ago there
was a stranger in here, asking about your father's
work. I told Mr. Swift of it at the time. The
stranger said then that he and some others were
thinking of opening a machine shop, and he
wanted to find out whether they would be likely
to get any jobs from your father. I told the
man I knew nothing about Mr. Swift's business,
and he went away. I didn't hear any more of it,
though of course I didn't want to lose your fa-
ther's trade. Now a funny thing happened. Only
this morning the same man was back here, and
he was making particular inquiries about your
father's private machine shops."
"He was?" exclaimed Tom excitedly.
"Yes. He wanted to know where they were
located, how they were laid out, and what sort
of work he did in them."


16
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
“What did you tell him?"!
"Nothing at all. I suspected something, and
I said the best way for him to find out would be
to go and see your father. Wasn't that right?"
"Sure. Dad doesn't want his business known
any more than he can help. What do you suppose
they wanted ?"
"Well, the man talked as though he and his
partners would like to buy your father's shops."
"I don't believe he'd sell. He has them ar-
ranged just for his own use in making patents,
and I'm sure he would not dispose of them."
"Well, that's what I thought, but I didn't tell
the man so. I judged it would be best for him
to find out for himself."
"What was the man's name?"
"He didn't tell me, and I didn't ask him."
"How did he look ?"
"Well, he was well dressed, wore kid gloves
and all that, and he had a little black mustache."
Tom started, and Mr. Merton noticed it.
"Do you know him?" he asked.
"No," replied Tom, "but I saw-_-" Then
he stopped. He recalled the man he had seen in
the post-office. He answered this description, but
it was too vague to be certain.
"Did you say you'd seen him?" asked Mr,
Merton, regarding Tom curiously.


TOM OVERHEARS SOMETHING
17
“No-yesthat is—well, I'll tell my father
about it," stammered Tom, who concluded that
it would be best to say nothing of his suspicions.
"I'll be back right after dinner, Mr. Merton.
Please have the bolts ready for me, if you can.":
"I will. Is your father going to use them in a
new machine?"
"Yes; dad is always making new machines,"
answered the youth, as the most polite way of
not giving the proprietor of the shop any infor-
mation. "I'll be back right after dinner," he
called as he went out to get on his wheel.
Tom was much puzzled. He felt certain that
the man in the post-office and the one who had
questioned Mr. Merton were the same.
"There is something going on, that dad should
know about," reflected Tom. "I must tell him.
I don't believe it will be wise to send any more
of his patent work over to Merton. We must
do it in the shops at home, and dad and I will
have to keep our eyes open. There may be spies
about seeking to discover something about his
new turbine motor. I'll hurry back with those
bolts and tell dad. But first I must get lunch.
I'll go to the restaurant and have a good feed
while I'm at it."
Tom had plenty of spending money, some of
which came from a small patent he had marketed


18 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
himself. He left his wheel outside the restaurant,
first taking the precaution to chain the wheels,
and then went inside. Tom was hungry and or-
dered a good meal. He was about half way
through it when some one called his name.
"Hello, Ned!" he answered, looking up to see
a youth about his own age. "Where did you
blow in from?"
"Oh, I came over from Shopton this morning,"
replied Ned Newton, taking a seat at the table
with Tom. The two lads were chums, and in
their younger days had often gone fishing, swim-
ming and hunting together. Now Ned worked in
the Shopton bank, and Tom was so busy helping
his father, so they did not see each other so often.
"On business or pleasure?" asked Tom, putting
some more sugar in his coffee.
"Business. I had to bring some papers over
from our bank to the First National here. But
what about you?"
"Oh, I came on dad's account."
"Invented anything new ?" asked Ned as he
gave his order to the waitress.
"No, nothing since the egg-beater I was tell-
ing you about. But I'm working on some things."
"Why don't you invent an automobile or an
airship?"


TOM OVERHEARS SOMETHING
19
“Maybe I will some day, but, speaking of autos,
did you see the one Andy Foger has?"
"Yes; it's a beaut! Have you seen it?".
"Altogether at too close range. He nearly
ran over me this morning," and the young in.
ventor related the occurrence.
"Oh, Andy always was too fresh," commented
Ned; "and since his father let him get the tour-
ing car I suppose he'll be worse than ever."
"Well, if he tries to run me down again he'll
get into trouble," declared Tom, calling for a
second cup of coffee.
The two chums began conversing on more con-
genial topics, and Ned was telling of a new
camera he had, when, from a table directly be-
hind him, Tom heard some one say in rather loud
tones :
"The plant is located in Shopton, all right,
and the buildings are near Swift's house."
Tom started, and listened more intently.
"That will make it more difficult," one man an-
swered. "But if the invention is as valuable
as-
"Hush !" came a caution from another of the.
party. "This is too public a place to discuss the
matter. Wait until we get out. One of us will
have to see Swift, of course, and if he proves
stubborn "


20
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"I guess you'd better hush yourself," retorted
the man who had first spoken, and then the voices
subsided.
But Tom Swift had overheard something which
made him vaguely afraid. He started so at the
sound of his father's name that he knocked a fork
from the table.
"What's the matter; getting nervous?" asked
Ned with a laugh.
"I guess so," replied Tom, and when he stooped
to pick the fork up, not waiting for the girl who
was serving at his table, he stole a look at the
strangers who had just entered. He was startled
to note that one of the men was the same he had
seen in the post-office—the man who answered the
description of the one who had been inquiring
of Mr. Merton about the Swift shops.
"I'm going to keep my ears, open," thought
Tom as he went on eating his dinner.


CHAPTER III
IN A SMASH-UP
Though the young inventor listened intently,
in an endeavor to hear the conversation of the men
at the table behind him, all he could catch was
an indistinct murmur. The strangers appeared
to have heeded the caution of one of their num-
ber and were speaking in low tones.
Tom and Ned finished their meal, and started
to leave the restaurant. As Mr. Swift's son
passed the table where the men sat they looked
up quickly at him. Two of them gave Tom but
a passing glance, but one—he whom the young
inventor had noticed in the post-office—stared
long and intently.
"I think he will know me the next time he sees
me," thought Tom, and he boldly returned the
glance of the stranger.
The bolts were ready when the inventor's son
called at the machine shop a second time, and
making a package of them Tom fastened it to
21


22 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
the saddle of his bicycle. He started for home
at a fast pace, and was just turning from a cross
road into the main highway when he saw ahead
of him a woman driving a light wagon. As the
sun flashed on Tom's shining wheel the horse gave
a sudden leap, swerved to one side, and then
bolted down the dusty stretch, the woman scream-
ing at the top of her voice.
"A runaway!" cried Tom; "and partly my
fault, too!"
Waiting not an instant the lad bent over his
handle-bars and pedaled with all his force. His
bicycle seemed fairly to leap forward after the
galloping horse.
"Sit still! Don't jump out! Don't jump!"
yelled the young inventor. "I'll try to catch him!"
for the woman was standing up in front of the
seat and leaning forward, as if about to leap from
the wagon.
"She's lost her head," thought Tom. "No won-
der! That's a skittish horse."
Faster and faster he rode, bending all his ener-
gies to overtake the animal. The wagon was
swaying from side to side, and more than once
the woman just saved herself from being thrown
out by grasping the edge of the seat. She found
that her standing position was a dangerous one


IN A SMASH-UP
23
and crouched on the bottom of the swaying
vehicle.
"That's better !" shouted Tom, but it is doubt-
ful if she heard him, for the rattling of the wagon
and the hoofbeats of the horse drowned all other
sounds. "Sit still!" he shouted. "I'll stop the
horse for you!
Trying to imagine himself in a desperate race,
in order to excite himself to greater speed, Tom
continued on. He was now even with the tail-
board of the wagon, and slowly creeping up,
The woman was all huddled up in a lump.
"Grab the reins! Grab the reins !" shouted
Tom. "Saw on the bit! That will stop him!"
The occupant of the wagon turned to look at
the lad. Tom saw that she was a handsome young
lady. "Grab the reins!" he cried again. "Pull
hard!"
"I-I can't!" she answered frightenedly. "They
have dropped down! Oh, do please stop the
horse! I'm so—so frightened !"
"I'll stop him!" declared the youth firmly, and
he set his teeth hard. Then he saw the reason
the fair driver could not grasp the lines. They
had slipped over the dashboard and were trailing
on the ground.
The horse was slacking speed a bit now, for
the pace was telling on his wind. Tom saw his


24 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
opportunity, and with a sudden burst of energy
was at the animal's head. Steering his wheel
with one hand, with the other the lad made a
grab for the reins near the bit. The horse swerved
frightenedly to one side, but Tom swung in the
same direction. He grasped the leather and then,
with a kick, he freed himself from the bicycle,
giving it a shove to one side. He was now cling-
ing to the reins with both hands, and, being a
muscular lad and no lightweight, his bulk told.
"Sit—still !" panted our hero to the young
woman, who had arisen to the seat. "I'll have
him stopped in half a minute now!"
It was in less time than that, for the horse,
finding it impossible to shake off the grip of Tom,
began to slow from a gallop to a trot, then to a
canter, and finally to a slow walk. A moment
later the horse had stopped, breathing heavily
from his run.
"There, there, now !" spoke Tom soothingly.
"You're all right, old fellow. I hope you're not
hurt"— this to the young lady—and Tom made a
motion to raise his cap, only to find that it had
blown off.
"Oh, no—no; I'm more frightened than hurt."
"It was all my fault," declared the young in-
ventor. "I should not have swung into the road
so suddenly. My bicycle alarmed your horse."


IN A SMASH-UP
25
"Oh, I fancy Dobbin is easily disturbed," ad-
mitted the fair driver. "I can't thank you enough
for stopping him. You saved me from a bad acci-
dent."
"It was the least I could do. Are you all right
now?" and he handed up the dangling reins. "I
think Dobbin, as you call him, has had enough of
running," went on Tom, for the horse was now
quiet.
"I hope so. Yes, I am all right. I trust your
wheel is not damaged. If it is, my father, Mr.
Amos Nestor, of Mansburg, will gladly pay for
its repair."
This reminded the young inventor of his bi-
cycle, and making sure that the horse would not
start up again, he went to where his wheel and
his cap lay. He found that the only damage to
the bicycle was a few bent spokes, and, straighten-
ing them and having again apologized to the
young woman, receiving in turn her pardon and
thanks, and learning that her name was Mary
Nestor, Tom once more resumed his trip. The
wagon followed him at a distance, the horse evin-
cing no desire now to get out of a slow amble.
"Well, things are certainly happening to me to-
day," mused Tom as he pedaled on. "That might
have been a serious runaway if there'd been any-
thing in the road.”


26
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
Tom did not stop to think that he had been
mainly instrumental in preventing a bad acci-
dent, as he had been the innocent cause of start-
ing the runaway, but Tom was ever a modest lad.
His arms were wrenched from jerking on the
bridle, but he did not mind that much, and bent
over the handle-bars to make up for lost time.
Our hero was within a short distance of his
house and was coasting easily along when, just
ahead of him, he saw a cloud of dust, very similar
to the one that had, some time before, concealed
the inexperienced motor-cyclist.
"I wonder if that's him again?" thought Tom.
"If it is I'm going to hang back until I see which
way he's headed. No use running any more
risks."
Almost at that moment a puff of wind blew
some of the dust to one side. Tom had a glimpse
of the man on the puffing machine.
"It's the same chap!" he exclaimed aloud; "and
he's going the same way I am. Well, I'll not try
to catch up to him. I wonder what he's been do-
ing all this while, that he hasn't gotten any far.
ther than this? Either he's been riding back and
forth, or else he's been resting. My, but he cer-
tainly is scooting along !"
The wind carried to Tom the sound of the
explosions of the motor, and he could see the man


IN A SMASH-UP
27
clinging tightly to the handle-bars. The rider
was almost in front of Tom's house now, when,
with a suddenness that caused the lad to utter an
exclamation of alarm, the stranger turned his
machine right toward a big oak tree.
"What's he up to?" cried Tom excitedly. "Does
he think he can climb that, or is he giving an ex-
hibition by showing how close he can come and
not hit it?"
A moment later the motor-cyclist struck the
tree a glancing blow. The man went flying over
the handle-bars, the machine was shunted to the
ditch along the road, and falling over on one
side the motor raced furiously. The rider lay
in a heap at the foot of the tree.
"My, that was a smash !" cried Tom. "He
must be killed !" and bending forward, he raced
toward the scene of the accident.


CHAPTER IV
TOM AND A MOTOR-CYCLE
When Tom reached the prostrate figure on
the grass at the foot of the old oak tree, the youth
bent quickly over the man. There was an ugly
cut on his head, and blood was flowing from it.
But Tom quickly noticed that the stranger was
breathing, though not very strongly.
"Well, he's not dead—just yet !" exclaimed the
youth with a sigh of relief. "But I guess he's
pretty badly hurt. I must get help—no, I'll take
him into our house. It's not far. I'll call dad."
Leaning his wheel against the tree Tom started
for his home, about three hundred feet away, and
then he noticed that the stranger's motor-cycle
was running at full speed on the ground.
"Guess I'd better shut off the power!" he ex.
claimed. "No use letting the machine be ruined."
Tom had a natural love for machinery, and it
hurt him almost as much to see a piece of fine
apparatus abused as it did to see an animal mis-
28


TOM AND A MOTOR-CYCLE 29
treated. It was the work of a moment to shut off
the gasolene and spark, and then the youth raced
on toward his house.
"Where's dad?" he called to Mrs. Baggert, who
was washing the dishes.
"Out in one of the shops," replied the house-
keeper. "Why, Tore " she went on hurriedly as
she saw how excited he was, "whatever has hap-
pened ?"
"Man hurt—out in front—motor-cycle smash-
I'm going to bring him in here—get some things
ready-I'll find dad!"
"Bless and save us !" cried Mrs. Baggert.
"Whatever are we coming to? Who's hurt?
How did it happen? Is he dead?"
"Haven't time to talk now!" answered Tom,
rushing from the house. "Dad and I will bring
him in here."
Tom found his father in one of the three small
machine shops on the grounds about the Swift
home. The youth hurriedly told what had hap-
pened.
"Of course we'll bring him right in here!" as-
sented Mr. Swift, putting aside the work upon
which he was engaged. "Did you tell Mrs. Bag-
gert?"
"Yes, and she's all excited."


30
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"Well, she can't help it, being a woman, I sup-
pose. But we'll manage. Do you know the man?"
"Never saw him before to-day, when he tried
to run me down. Guess he doesn't know much
about motor-cycles. But come on, dad. He may
bleed to death."
Father and son hurried to where the stranger
lay. As they bent over him he opened his eyes
and asked faintly:
"Where am I? What happened?"
"You're all right-in good hands," said Mr.
Swift. "Are you much hurt?".
"Not much—mostly stunned, I guess. What
happened ?" he repeated. ,
"You and your motor-cycle tried to climb a
tree," remarked Tom with grim humor.
"Oh, yes, I remember now. I couldn't seem
to steer out of the way. And I couldn't shut off
the power in time. Is the motor-cycle much dam-
aged ?"
"The front wheel is," reported Tom, after an
inspection, "and there are some other breaks, but
guess "
"I wish it was all smashed !" exclaimed the man
vigorously. "I never want to see it again!"
"Why, don't you like it?" asked Tom eagerly.
"No, and I never will," the man spoke faintly
but determinedly.


32 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
Baggert, who, when she found the accident was
not serious, recovered her composure.
"I must have been unconscious for a few min-
utes," went on the man.
"You were," explained Tom. "When I got
up to you I thought you were dead, until I saw
you breathe. Then I shut off the power of your
machine and ran in for dad. I've got the motor-
cycle outside. You can't ride it for some time, I'm
afraid, Mr.—er ” and Tom stopped in some
confusion, for he realized that he did not know
the man's name.
"I beg your pardon for not introducing myself
before," went on the stranger. "I'm Wakefield
Damon, of Waterfield. But don't worry about
me riding that machine again. I never shall."
"Oh, perhaps " began Mr. Swift.
"No, I never shall," went on Mr. Damon posi-
tively. "My doctor told me to get it, as he thought
riding around the country would benefit my health.
I shall tell him his prescription nearly killed me."
"And me too," added Tom with a laugh.
"How—why—are you the young man I nearly
ran down this morning?" asked Mr. Damon, sud-
denly sitting up and looking at the youth.
"I am," answered our hero.
"Bless my soul! So you are!" cried Mr.
Damon. "I was wondering who it could be. It's


TOM AND A MOTOR-CYCLE
33
quite a coincidence. But I was in such a cloud
of dust I couldn't make out who it was."
"You had your muffler open, and that made
considerable dust," explained Tom.
"Was that it? Bless my existence! I thought
something was wrong, but I couldn't tell what. I
went over all the instructions in the book and
those the agent told me, but I couldn't think of
the right one. I tried all sorts of things to make
less dust, but I couldn't. Then, bless my eyelashes,
if the machine didn't stop just after I nearly ran
into you. I tinkered over it for an hour or more
before I could get it to going again. Then I ran
into the tree. My doctor told me the machine
would do my liver good, but, bless my happiness,
I'd as soon be without a liver entirely as to do
what I've done to-day. I am done with motor-
cycling !"
A hopeful look came over Tom's face, but he
said nothing, that is, not just then. In a little
while Mr. Damon felt so much better that he said
he would start for home.
"I'm afraid you'll have to leave your machine
here," said Tom.
"You can send for it any time you want to,"
added Mr. Swift.
"Bless my hatband !" exclaimed Mr. Damon,
who appeared to be very fond of blessing his vari-


34 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
ous organs and his articles of wearing apparel.
"Bless my hatband! I never want to see it again!
If you will be so kind as to keep it for me, I will
send a junk man after it. I will never spend any-
'thing on having it repaired. I am done with that
form of exercise—liver or no liver—doctor or no
doctor."
He appeared very determined. Tom quickly
made up his mind. Mr. Damon had gone to the
bathroom to get rid of some of the mud on his
hands and face.
"Father," said Tom earnestly, "may I buy that
machine of him?"
"What? Buy a broken motor-cycle?".
"I can easily fix it. It is a fine make, and in
good condition. I can repair it. I've wanted a
motor-cycle for some time, and here's a chance to
get a good one cheap."
"You don't need to do that," replied Mr. Swift.
"You have money enough to buy a new one if
you want it. I never knew you cared for them."
"I didn't, until lately. But I'd rather buy this
one and fix it up than get a new one. Besides, I
have an idea for a new kind of transmission, and
perhaps I can work it out on this machine."
"Oh, well, if you want it for experimental pur-
poses, I suppose it will be as good as any. Go


TOM AND A MOTOR-CYCLE
35
ahead, get it if you wish, but don't give too much
for it."
"I'll not. I fancy I can get it cheap."
Mr. Damon returned to the living-room, where
he had first been carried.
"I cannot thank you enough for what you have
done for me," he said. "I might have lain there
for hours. Bless my very existence! I have had
a very narrow escape. Hereafter when I see any-
one on a motor-cycle I shall turn my head away.
The memory will be too painful," and he touched
the plaster that covered a cut on his head.
"Mr. Damon," said Tom quickly, "will you
sell me that motor-cycle?”.
"Bless my finger rings! Sell you that mass of
junk?"
"It isn't all junk," went on the young inventor.
"I can easily fix it; though, of course," he added
prudently, "it will cost something. How much
would you want for it?"
"Well," replied Mr. Damon, "I paid two hun-
dred and fifty dollars last week. I have ridden a
hundred miles on it. That is at the rate of two
dollars and a half a mile—pretty expensive riding.
But if you are in earnest I will let you have the
machine for fifty dollars, and then I fear that I
will be taking advantage of you."


36
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"I'll give you fifty dollars," said Tom quickly,
and Mr. Damon exclaimed:
"Bless my liver—that is, if I have one. Do you
mean it?"
Tom nodded. I'll fetch you the money right
away," he said, starting for his room. He got the
cash from a small safe he had arranged, which
was fitted up with an ingenious burglar alarm, and
was on his way downstairs when he heard his
father call out:
"Here! What do you want? Go away from
that shop! No one is allowed there !" and looking
from an upper window, Tom saw his father run-
ning toward a stranger, who was just stepping
inside the shop where Mr. Swift was constructing
his turbine motor. Tom started as he saw that
the stranger was the same black-mustached man
whom he had noticed in the post-office, and, later,
in the restaurant at Mansburg.


38
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"What do you want? I allow no people to come
in here unless I or my son invites them. Did
you wish to see me?”.
"Are you Mr. Barton Swift?" asked the man.
"Yes, that is my name."
"The inventor of the Swift safety lamp, and
the turbine motor ?"
At the mention of the motor Mr. Swift started.
"I am the inventor of the safety lamp you men-
tion," he said stiffly, "but I must decline to talk
about the motor. May I ask where you obtained
your information concerning it?"
"Why, I am not at liberty to tell," went on the
man. "I called to see if we could negotiate with
you for the sale of it. Parties whom I repre-
sent- "
At that moment Tom plucked his father by the
sleeve.
"Dad," whispered the youth, "I saw him in
Mansburg. I think he is one of several who have
been inquiring in Mr. Merton's shop about you
and your patents. I wouldn't have anything to
do with him until I found out more about him."
"Is that so?" asked Mr. Swift quickly. Then,
turning to the stranger, he said: "My son tells
me-
But Mr. Swift got no further, for at that mo-


MR. SWIFT IS ALARMED
39
ment the stranger caught sight of Tom, whom
he had not noticed before.
"Ha!" exclaimed the man. "I have forgotten
something—an important engagement—will be
back directly—will see you again, Mr. Swift-
excuse the trouble I have put you to—I am in a
great hurry," and before father or son could stop
him, had they any desire to, the man turned and
walked quickly from the yard.
Mr. Swift stood staring at him, and so did Tom.
Then the inventor asked:
"Do you know that man? What about him,
Tom? Why did he leave so hurriedly?"
"I don't know his name," replied Tom, "but I
am suspicious regarding him, and I think he left
because he suddenly recognized me." Thereupon
he told his father of seeing the man in the post-
office, and hearing the talk of the same individual
and two companions in the restaurant.
"And so you think they are up to some mis-
chief, Tom?" asked the parent when the son had
finished.
"Well, I wouldn't go quite as far as that, but
I think they are interested in your patents, and
you ought to know whether you want them to be,
or not."
"I most certainly do not—especially in the tur-
bine motor. That is my latest invention, and, I


40
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
think, will prove very valuable. But, though I
have not mentioned it before, I expect to have
trouble with it. Soon after I perfected it, with
the exception of some minor details, I received
word from a syndicate of rich men that I was
infringing on a motor, the patent of which they
controlled.
"This surprised me for two reasons. One was
because I did not know that any one knew I had
invented the motor. I had kept the matter secret,
and I am at a loss to know how it leaked out.
To prevent any further information concerning
my plans becoming public, I sent you to Mans-
burg to-day. But it seems that the precaution
was of little avail. Another matter of surprise
was the information that I was infringing on the
patent of some one else. I had a very careful
examination made, and I found that the syndi-
cate of rich nien was wrong. I was not infringing.
In fact, though the motor they have is somewhat
like mine, there is one big difference theirs does
not work, while mine does. Their patents are
worthless."
"Then what do you think is their object?”.
"I think they want to get control of my in-
vention of the turbine motor, Tom. That is what
has been worrying me lately. I know these men


MR. SWIFT IS ALARMED 41
to be unscrupulous, and, with plenty of money,
they may make trouble for me."
"But can't you fight them in the courts?”.
"Yes, I could do that. It is not as if I was a
poor man, but I do not like lawsuits. I want to
live quietly and invent things. I dislike litiga-
tion. However, if they force it on me I will
fight!" exclaimed Mr. Swift determinedly.
"Do you think this man was one of the crowd
of financiers?" asked Tom.
"It would be hard to say. I did not like his
actions, and the fact that he sneaked in here, as
if he was trying to get possession of some of my
models or plans, makes it suspicious."
"It certainly does," agreed Tom. "Now, if we
only knew his name we could— ”.
He suddenly paused in his remark and sprang
forward. He picked up an envelope that had
dropped where the stranger had been standing.
"The man lost this from his pocket, dad," said
Tom eagerly. "It's a telegram. Shall we look at
it?"
"I think we will be justified in protecting our-
selves. Is the envelope open?"
"Yes."
"Then read the telegram."
Tom drew out a folded yellow slip of paper.
It was a short message. He read:


42 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
“ 'Anson Morse, Mansburg. See Swift to-day.
Make offer. If not accepted do the best you can.
Spare no effort. Don't give plans away.'"
"Is that all?" asked Mr. Swift.
"All except the signature."
"Who is the telegram signed by?"
"By Smeak & Katch," answered Tom.
"Those rascally lawyers !" exclaimed his fa-
ther. "I was beginning to suspect this. That is
the firm which represents the syndicate of wealthy
men who are trying to get my turbine motor pa-
tents away from me. Tom, we must be on our
guard! They will wage a fierce fight against me,
for they have sunk many thousands of dollars
in a worthless machine, and are desperate."
"We'll fight 'em!" cried Tom. "You and I,
dad! We'll show 'em that the firm of Swift &
Son is swift by name and swift by nature !"
"Good !" exclaimed the inventor. "I'm glad
'you feel that way about it, Tom. But we are
going to have no easy task. Those men are rich
and unscrupulous. We shall have to be on guard
constantly. Let me have that telegram. It may
come in useful. Now I must send word to Reid
& Crawford, my attorneys in Washington, to be
on the lookout. Matters are coming to a curious
pass."


MR. SWIFT IS ALARMED
43
As Mr. Swift and his son started for the house,
they met Mr. Damon coming toward them.
"Bless my very existence !" cried the eccentric
man. "I was beginning to fear something had
happened to you. I am glad that you are all
right, I heard voices, and I imagined "
"It's all right," Mr. Swift reassured him.
"There was a stranger about my shop, and I never
allow that. Do you feel well enough to go? If
not we shall be glad to have you remain with us.
We have plenty of room."
"Oh, thank you very much, but I must be go-
ing. I feel much better. Bless my gaiters, but
I never will trust myself in even an automobile
again! I will renounce gasolene from now on."
"That reminds me," spoke Tom. "I have the
money for the motor-cycle," and he drew out the
bills. "You are sure you will not regret your
bargain, Mr. Damon? The machine is new, and
needs only slight repairs. Fifty dollars is— "
"Tut, tut, young man! I feel as if I was get-
ting the best of you. Bless my handkerchief! I
hope you have no bad luck with it."
"I'll try and be careful," promised Tom with a
. smile as he handed over the money. "I am going
to gear it differently and put some improvements
on it. Then I will use it instead of my bicycle."
"It would have to be very much improved be-


44
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
fore I trusted myself on it again," declared Mr.
Damon. "Well, I appreciate what you have done
for me, and if at any time I can reciprocate the
favor, I will only be too glad to do so. Bless my
soul, though, I hope I don't have to rescue you
from trying to climb a tree," and with a laugh,
which showed that he had fully recovered from
his mishap, he shook hands with father and son
and left.
"A very nice man, Tom," commented Mr.
Swift. "Somewhat odd and out of the ordinary,
but a very fine character, for all that."
"That's what I say," added the son. "Now,
dad, you'll see me scooting around the country
on a motor-cycle. I've always wanted one, and
now I have a bargain."
"Do you think you can repair it?"
"Of course, dad. I've done more difficult things
than that. I'm going to take it apart now, and
see what it needs.”.
"Before you do that, Tom, I wish you would
take a telegram to town for me. I must wire my
lawyers at once."
"Dad looks worried," thought Tom as he
wheeled the broken motor-cycle into a machine
shop, where he did most of his work. "Well, I
don't blame him. But we'll get the best of those
scoundrels yet!"


CHAPTER VI
AN INTERVIEW IN THE DARK
While Mr. Swift was writing the message he
wished his son to take to the village, the young
mechanic inspected the motor-cycle he had pur-
chased. Tom found that a few repairs would
suffice to put it in good shape, though an entire
new front wheel would be needed. The motor
had not been damaged, as he ascertained by a
test. Tom rode into town on his bicycle, and as
he hurried along he noticed in the west a bank
of ugly-looking clouds that indicated a shower.
"I'm in for a wetting before I get back," he
mused, and he increased his speed, reaching the
telegraph office shortly before seven o'clock.
"Think this storm will hold off until I get
home?" asked Tom.
"I'm afraid not," answered the agent. "You'd
better get a hustle on."
Tom sprinted off. It was getting dark rapidly,
and when he was about a mile from home he felt
several warm drops on his face.


46
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"Here it comes !" exclaimed the youth. "Now
for a little more speed !"
Tom pressed harder on the pedals, too hard, in
fact, for an instant later something snapped, and
the next he knew he was flying over the handle-
bars of the bicycle. At the same time there was
a metallic, clinking sound.
"Chain's busted !" exclaimed the lad as he
picked himself up out of the dust. "Well,
wouldn't that jar you!" and he walked back to
where, in the dusk, he could dimly discern his
wheel.
The chain had come off the two sprockets and
was lying to one side. Tom picked it up and as-
certained by close observation that the screw and
nut holding the two joining links together was
lost.
"Nice pickle!" he murmured. "How am I go-
ing to find it in all this dust and darkness ?" he
asked himself disgustedly. "I'll carry an extra
screw next time. No, I won't, either. I'll ride
my motor-cycle next time. Well, I may as well
give a look around. I hate to walk, if I can fix
:8 and ride."
Tom had not spent more than two minutes look-
ing about the dusty road, with the aid of matches,
for the screw, when the rain suddenly began fall-
ing in a hard shower.


48
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
mind walking. I'm wet through now, and I can't
get much wetter. "I'm much obliged, though."
"Well, I'm sorry, but I can hardly take you and
the bicycle, too," continued the chauffeur.
"Certainly not," added a voice from the tonneau
of the car. "We can't have a muddy bicycle in
here. Who is that person, Simpson?"
"It's a young man," answered the driver.
"Is he acquainted around here?" went on the
voice from the rear of the car. "Ask him if he
is acquainted around here, Simpson."
Tom was wondering where he had heard that
voice before. He had a vague notion that it was
familiar.
"Are you acquainted around here?" obediently
asked the man at the wheel.
"I live here," replied Tom.
"Ask him if he knows any one named Swift?"
continued the voice from the tonneau, and the
driver started to repeat it.
"I heard him," interrupted Tom. "Yes, I know
a Mr. Swift"; but Tom, with a sudden resolve,
and one he could hardly explain, decided that,
for the present, he would not betray his own
identity.
"Ask him if Mr. Swift is an inventor." Once
more the unseen person spoke in the voice Tom
was trying vainly to recall.


50 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
burg!" and with that, taking no more notice of
Tom, the man in the auto hastily drew the cur-
tains together.
The chauffeur threw in the gears and swung the
ponderous machine to one side. The road was
wide, and he made the turn skilfully. A moment
later the car was speeding back the way it had
come, leaving Tom standing on the highway,
alone in the mud and darkness, with the rain
pouring down in torrents.


CHAPTER VII
OFF ON A SPIN
Tom's first impulse was to run after the auto-
mobile, the red tail light of which glowed through
the blackness like a ruby eye. Then he realized
that it was going from him at such a swift pace
that it would be impossible to get near it, even if
his bicycle was in working order.
"But if I had my motor-cycle I'd catch up to
them," he murmured. "As it is, I must hurry
home and tell dad. This is another link in the
queer chain that seems to be winding around us.
I wonder who that man was, and what he wanted
by asking so many personal questions about dad?"
Trundling his wheel before him, with the chain
dangling from the handle-bar, Tom splashed on
through the mud and rain. It was a lonesome,
weary walk, tired as he was with the happenings
of the day, and the young inventor breathed a
sigh of thankfulness as the lights of his home
shone out in the mist of the storm. As he tramped
51


OFF ON A SPIN
53
"I hardly know what to think, Tom. But we
will take every precaution. We will set the bur-
glar alarm wires, which I have neglected for some
time, as I fancied everything would be secure
here. Then I will take my plans and the model
of the turbine motor into the house. I'll run no
chances to-night."
Mr. Swift, who was adjusting some of the
new bolts that Tom had brought home that day,
began to gather up his tools and material.
"I'll help you, dad," said Tom, and he began
connecting the burglar alarm wires, there being
an elaborate system of them about the house, shops
and grounds.
Neither Tom nor his father slept well that
night. Several times one or the other of them
arose, thinking they heard unusual noises, but
it was only some disturbance caused by the storm,
and morning arrived without anything unusual
having taken place. The rain still continued, and
Tom, looking from his window and seeing the
downpour, remarked :
"I'm glad of it!"
"Why?" asked his father, who was in the next
room.
"Because I'll have a good excuse for staying
in and working on my motor-cycle."
"But you must do some studying," declared


54
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
Mr. Swift. "I will hear you in mathematics
right after breakfast."
"All right, dad. I guess you'll find I have my
lessons."
Tom had graduated with honors from a local
academy, and when it came to a question of go-
ing further in his studies, he had elected to con-
tinue with his father for a tutor, instead of going
to college. Mr. Swift was a very learned man,
and this arrangement was satisfactory to him, as
it allowed Tom more time at home, so he could
aid his father on the inventive work and also plan
things for himself. Tom showed a taste for me-
chanics, and his father wisely decided that such
training as his son needed could be given at home
to better advantage than in a school or college.
Lessons over, Tom hurried to his own particu-
lar shop, and began taking apart the damaged
motor-cycle.
"First I'll straighten the handle-bars, and then
I'll fix the motor and transmission," he decided.
"The front wheel I can buy in town, as this one
would hardly pay for repairing."
Tom was soon busy with wrenches, hammers,
pliers and screw-driver. He was in his element,
and was whistling over his task. The motor he
found in good condition, but it was not such an
easy task as he had hoped to change the trans-


56
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"I think I'll go to town and get one," he re-
marked. "The rain isn't quite so hard now."
In spite of his father's mild objections Tom
went, using his bicycle, the chain of which he had
quickly repaired. He found just the front wheel
needed, and that night his motor-cycle was ready
to run. But it was too dark to try it then, espe-
cially as he had no good lantern, the one on the
cycle having been smashed, and his own bicycle
light not being powerful enough. So he had to
postpone his trial trip until the next day.
He was up early the following morning, and
went out for a spin before breakfast. He came
back, with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, just as
Mr. Swift and Mrs. Baggert were sitting down
to the table.
"To Reedville and back," announced Tom
proudly.
"What, a round trip of thirty miles !" exclaimed
Mr. Swift.
"That's what!" declared his son. "I went like
a greased pig most of the way. I had to slow
up going through Mansburg, but the rest of the
time I let it out for all it was worth.
"You must be careful," cautioned his father.
"You are not an expert yet."
"No, I realize that. Several times, when I
wanted to slow up, I began to back-pedal, forget-


OFF ON A SPIN
57
ting that I wasn't on my bicycle. Then I thought
to shut off the power and put on the brake. But
it's glorious fun. I'm going out again as soon as
I have something to eat. That is, unless you
want me to help you, dad."
"No, not this morning. Learn to ride the
motor-cycle. It may come in handy."
Neither Tom nor his father realized what an
important part the machine was soon to play in
their lives.
Tom went out for another spin after breakfast,
and in a different direction. He wanted to see
what the machine would do on a hill, and there
was a long, steep one about five miles from home.
The roads were in fine shape after the rain, and
he speeded up the incline at a rapid rate.
"It certainly does eat up the road," the lad
murmured. "I have improved this machine con-
siderably. Wish I could take out a patent on it."
Reaching the crest of the slope, he started down
the incline. He turned off part of the power, and
was gliding along joyously, when from a cross-
road he suddenly saw turn into the main highway
a mule, drawing a ramshackle wagon, loaded with
fence posts. Beside the animal walked an old
colored man.
"I hope he gets out of the way in time," thought
Tom. "He's moving as slow as molasses, and


58 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
I'm going a bit faster than I like. Guess I'll shut
off and put on the brakes."
The mule and wagon were now squarely across
the road. Tom was coming nearer and nearer.
He turned the handle-grip, controlling the supply
of gasolene, and to his horror he found that it
was stuck. He could not stop the motor-cycle!
"Look out! Look out!" cried Tom to the
negro. "Get out of the way! I can't stop! Let
me pass you!"
The darky looked up. He saw the approach-
ing machine, and he seemed to lose possession of
his senses.
"Whoa, Boomerang !" cried the negro. "Whoa!
Suffin's gwine t' happen!"
"That's what!" muttered Tom desperately, as
he saw that there was not room for him to pass
without going into the ditch, a proceeding that
would mean an upset. "Pull out of the way!"
he yelled again.
But either the driver could not understand, or
did not appreciate the necessity. The mule
stopped and reared up. The colored man hurried
to the head of the animal to quiet it.
"Whoa, Boomerang! Jest yo' stand still!" he
said.
Tom, with a great effort, managed to twist the
grip and finally shut off the gasolene. But it was


OFF ON A SPIN
59
too late. He struck the darky with the front
wheel. Fortunately the youth had managed to
somewhat reduce his speed by a quick applica-
tion of the brake, or the result might have been
serious. As it was, the colored man was gently
lifted away from the mule's head and tossed into
the long grass in the ditch. Tom, by a great ef-
fort, succeeded in maintaining his seat in the
saddle, and then, bringing the machine to a stop,
he leaped off and turned back.
The colored man was sitting up, looking dazed.
"Whoa, Boomerang !" he murmured. "Suffin's
happened!"
But the mule, who had quieted down, only wag-
gled his ears lazily, and Tom, ready to laugh,
now that he saw he had not committed man-
slaughter, hurried to where the colored man was
sitting


CHAPTER VIII
SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS
"Are you hurt?" asked Tom as he leaned his
motor-cycle against the fence and stood beside
the negro.
"Hurt?" repeated the darky. "I'se killed, dat's
what I is! I ain't got a whole bone in mah body!
Good landy, but I suttinly am in a awful state!
Would yo' mind tellin' me if dat ar' mule am
still alive?"
"Of course he is," answered Tom, "He isn't
hurt a bit. But why can't you turn around and
look for yourself?"
"No, sah! No, indeedy, sah!" replied the col-
ored man. "Yo' doan't catch dis yeah nigger
lookin' around!"
"Why not?"
"Why not? 'Cause I'll tell yo'why not. I'm
so stiff an' I'm so nearly broke t pieces, dat if I
turn mah head around it suah will twist offen
mah body. No, sah! No, indeedy, sah, I ain't
60


SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS
61
gwine t turn 'round. But am yo' suah dat mah
mule Boomerang ain't hurted ?"
"No, he's not hurt a bit, and I'm sure you are
not. I didn't strike you hard, for I had almost
stopped my machine. Try to get up. I'm posi;
tive you'll find yourself all right. I'm sorry it
happened."
"Oh, dat's all right. Doan't mind me," went
on the colored man. "It was mah fault fer gittin
in de road. But dat mule Boomerang am suttinly
de most outrageous quadraped dat ever circum-
locuted."
"Why do you call him Boomerang?" asked
Tom, wondering if the negro really was hurt..
"What fo' I call him Boomerang? Did yo'
eber see dem Australian black mans what go
around wid a circus t'row dem crooked sticks dey
calls boomerangs?”.
"Yes, I've seen thern."
"Well, Boomerang, mah mule, am jest laik dat.
He's crooked, t' begin wid, an'anudder t'ing, yo'
can't never tell when yo' start him whar he's
gwine t' land up. Dat's why I calls him Boom-
erang."
"I see. It's a very proper name. But why,
don't you try to get up?"
"Does yo' t'ink I can?"


SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS
63
to find that the accident had had no serious con-
sequences.
"Yais, sah, I guess I be. Whar did yo' say
yo' had some whitewashin' t do?"
"No place in particular, but there is always
something that needs doing at our house. If you
call I'll give you a job."
"Yais, sah, I'll be sure to call," and Eradicate
walked back to where Boomerang was patiently
waiting.
Tom told the colored man how to find the Swift
home, and was debating with himself whether
he ought not to offer Eradicate some money as
compensation for knocking him into the air, when
he noticed that the negro was tying one wheel
of his wagon fast to the body of the vehicle with
a rope.
"What are you doing that for?" asked Tom.
"Got to, † git downhill wid dis load ob fence
posts," was the answer. "Ef I didn't it would
be right on to de heels ob Boomerang, an' when-
eber he feels anyt'ing on his heels he does act
wuss dan a circus mule."
"But why don't you use your brake? I see
you have one on the wagon. Use the brake to
hold back going downhill."
“ 'Scuse me, Mistah Swift, 'scuse me!" ex-
claimed Eradicate quickly. "But yo' doan't know


SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS
65
on dis wagon. Yo’ll 'scuse me, but yo’am slight-
ly mistaken."
"All right," rejoined Tom with a laugh, not
thinking it worth while to explain what he meant
by the lever force of the brake rod. "Let it go at
that. Livery or no livery, your brake will work
now. I guess you're all right. Now don't forget
to come around and do some whitewashing," and
seeing that the colored man was able to mount to
the seat and start off Boomerang, who seemed to
have deep-rooted objections about moving, Tom
wheeled his motor-cycle back to the road.
Eradicate Sampson drove his wagon a short
distance and then suddenly applied the brake. It
stopped short, and the mule looked around as if
surprised.
"It suah do work, Mistah Swift!" called the
darky to Tom, who was waiting the result of his
little repair job. "It suah do work!"
"I'm glad of it."
"Mah golly! But yo' am suttinly a conjure-
man when it comes t' fixin' wagons! Did yo' eber
work fer a blacksmith ?"
"No, not exactly. Well, good-by, Eradicate.
I'll look for you some day next week."
With that Tom leaped on his machine and
speeded off ahead of the colored man and his rig.


66 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
As he passed the load of fence posts the youth
heard Eradicate remark in awestricken tones:
"Mah golly! He suttinly go laik de wind!
An't t'ink dat I were hit by dat monstrousness
machine, an' not hurted! Mah golly! T'ings
am suttinly happenin'! G'lang, Boomerang !"
"This machine has more possibilities in it than
I suspected," mused Tom. "But one thing I've
got to change, and that is the gasolene and spark
controls. I don't like them the way they are. I
want a better leverage, just as Eradicate needed
on his wagon. I'll fix them, too, when I get
home."
He rode for several hours, until he thought it
was about dinner time, and then, heading the
machine toward home, he put on all the speed
possible, soon arriving where his father was at
work in the shop.
"Well, how goes it?" asked Mr. Swift with a
smile as he looked at the flushed face of his son.
"Fine, dad! I scooted along in great shape.
Had an adventure, too."
"You didn't meet any more of those men, did
you? The men who are trying to get my inven-
tion?" asked Mr. Swift apprehensively.
"No, indeed, dad. I simply had a little run-in
with a chap named Eradicate Andrew Jackson
Abraham Lincoln Sampson, otherwise known as


SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS
Rad Sampson, and I engaged him to do some
whitewashing for us. We do need some white-
washing done, don't we, dad?"
"What's that?" asked Mr. Swift, thinking his
son was joking.
Then Tom told of the happening.
"Yes, I think I can find some work for Eradi-
cate to do," went on Mr. Swift. "There is some
dirt in the boiler shop that needs eradicating, and
I think he can do it. But dinner has been waiting
some time. We'll go in now, or Mrs. Baggert
will be out after us."
Father and son were soon at the table, and
Tom was explaining what he meant to do to im-
prove his motor-cycle. His father offered some
suggestions regarding the placing of the gaso-
lene lever.
"I'd put it here," he said, and with his pencil
he began to draw a diagram on the white table-
cloth.
"Oh, my goodness me, Mr. Swift!" exclaimed
Mrs. Baggert. "Whatever are you doing?" and
she sprang up in some alarm.
"What's the matter? Did I upset my tea ?"
asked the inventor innocently.
"No; but you are soiling a clean tablecloth.
Pencil-marks are so hard to get out. Take a
piece of paper, please.”


68 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"Oh, is that all?" rejoined Mr. Swift with a
smile. "Well, Tom, here is the way I would do
that," and substituting the back of an envelope
for the tablecloth, he continued the drawing.
Tom was looking over his father's shoulder in-
terestedly, when Mrs. Baggert, who was taking
off some of the dinner dishes, suddenly asked:
"Are you expecting a visitor, Mr. Swift?"
"A visitor ? No. Why?" asked the inventor
quickly.
"Because I just saw a man going in the ma-
chine shop," went on the housekeeper.
"A man! In the machine shop!" exclaimed
Tom, rising from his chair. Mr. Swift also got
up, and the two hurried from the house. As they
reached the yard they saw a man emerging from
the building where Mr. Swift was constructing
his turbine motor. The man had his back turned
toward them and seemed to be sneaking around,
as though desirous of escaping observation.
"What do you want?" called Mr. Swift.
The man turned quickly. At the sight of Mr.
Swift and Tom he made a jump to one side and
got behind a big packing-box.
"That's queer," spoke Tom. "I wonder what
he wants ?"
"I'll soon see," rejoined Mr. Swift, and he
started on a run toward where the man was hid-


SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS
69
ing. Tom followed his father, and as the two
inventors reached the box the man sprang from
behind it and down the yard to a lane that passed
in back of the Swift house. As he ran he was
seen to stuff some papers in his pocket.
"My plans! He's stolen some of my plans !"
cried Mr. Swift. "Catch him, Tom!"
Tom ran after the stranger, whose curious ac-
tions had roused their suspicions, while Mr. Swift
entered the motor shop to ascertain whether any=
thing had been stolen.


CHAPTER IX
A FÁ LITLESS PURSUIT
Down through the yard Tom speeded, in and
out among the buildings, looking on every side
for a sight of the bold stranger. No one was to
be seen.
"He can't be very far ahead," thought Tom. "I
ought to catch him before he gets to the woods.
If he reaches there he has a good chance of get-
ting away."
There was a little patch of trees just back of
the inventor's house, not much of a woods, per-
haps, but that is what they were called.
"I wonder if he was some ordinary tramp,
looking for what he could steal, or if he was
one of the gang after dad's invention?" thought
Tom as he sprinted ahead.
By this time the youth was clear of the group
of buildings and in sight of a tall, board fence,
which surrounded the Swift estate on three sides.
Here and there, along the barrier, were piled old
70


A FRUITLESS PURSUIT
71
packing-cases, so that it would be easy for a fugi-
tive to leap upon one of them and so get over
the fence. Tom thought of this possibility in a
moment.
"I guess he got over ahead of me," the lad ex-
claimed, and he peered sharply about. "I'll catch
him on the other side!"
At that instant Tom tripped over a plank and
went down full length, making quite a racket.
When he picked himself up he was surprised to
see the man he was after dart from inside a big
box and start for the fence, near a point where
there were some packing-cases piled up, making a
good approach to the barrier. The fugitive had
been hiding, waiting for a chance to escape, and
Tom's fall had alarmed him.
"Here! Hold on there! Come back!" cried
the youth as he recovered his wind and leaped
forward.
But the man did not stay. With a bound he
was up on the pile of boxes, and the next moment
he was poised on top of the fence. Before leap-
ing down on the other side, a jump at which even
'a practiced athlete might well hesitate, the fleeing
stranger paused and looked back. Tom gazed
at him and recognized the man in an instant. He
was the third of the mysterious trio whom the
lad had seen in the Mansburg restaurant.


72 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"Wait a minute! What do you want sneaking
around here?" shouted Tom as he ran forward.
The man returned no answer, and an instant later
disappeared from view on the other side of the
fence.
"He jumped down!" thought Tom. "A big
leap, too. Well, I've got to follow. This is a
queer proceeding. First one, then the second,
and now the third of those men seem determined
to get something here. I wonder if this one suc-
ceeded? I'll soon find out."
The lad was up on the pile of packing-cases and
over the fence in almost record time. He caught
a glimpse of the fugitive running toward the
woods. Then the boy leaped down, jarring him-
self considerably, and took after the man.
But though Tom was a good runner he was
handicapped by the fact that the man had a start
of him, and also by the fact that the stranger
had had a chance to rest while hiding for the
second time in the big box, while Tom had kept
on running. So it is no great cause for wonder
that Mr. Swift's son found himself being dis.
tanced.
Once, twice he called on the fleeing one to halt,
but the man paid no attention, and did not even
turn around. Then the youth wisely concluded
to save his wind for running. He did his best,


A FRUITLESS PURSUIT
73
but was chagrined to see the man reach the woods
ahead of him.
"I've lost him now," thought Tom. "Well,
there's no help for it."
Still he did not give up, but kept on through
the patch of trees. On the farther side was
Lake Carlopa, a broad and long sheet of water.
"If he doesn't know the lake's there," thought
our hero, "he may keep straight on. The water
will be sure to stop him, and I can catch him.
But what will I do with him after I get him?
That's another question. I guess I've got a right
to demand to know what he was doing around our
place, though."
But Tom need not have worried on this score.
He could hear the fugitive ahead of him, and
marked his progress by the crackling of the
underbrush.
"I'm almost up to him," exulted the young in-
ventor. Then, at the same moment, he caught
sight of the man running, and a glimpse of the
sparkling water of Lake Carlopa. "I've got him!
I've got him!" Tom almost cried aloud in his
excitement. "Unless he takes to the water and
swims for it, I've got him!"
But Tom did not reckon on a very simple mat-
ter, and that was the possibility of the man hav-
ing a boat at hand. For this is just what hap-


74
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
pened. Reaching the lake shore the fugitive with
a final spurt managed to put considerable distance
between himself and Tom. Drawn up on the
beach was a little motor-boat. In this, after he
had pushed it from shore, the stranger leaped.
It was the work of but a second to set the engine
in motion, and as Tom reached the edge of the
woods and started across the narrow strip of sand
and gravel that was between the water and the
trees, he saw the man steering his craft toward
the middle of the lake.
"Well—I'll be—jiggered!" exclaimed the
youth. "Who would have thought he'd have a
motor-boat waiting for him? He planned this
well."
There was nothing to do but turn back. Tom
had a small rowboat and a sailing skiff on the
lake, but his boathouse was some distance away,
and even if he could get one of his craft out, the
motor-boat would soon distance it.
"He's gone!" thought the searcher regretfully.
The man in the motor-boat did not look back.
He sat in the bow, steering the little craft right
across the broadest part of Lake Carlopa.
"I wonder where he came from, and where he's
going?" mused Tom. "That's a boat I never saw
on this lake before. It must be a new one. Well,
there's no help for it, I've got to go back and tell
boat would might the sea... not look ba
say


A FRUITLESS PURSUIT
75
dad I couldn't catch him." And with a last look
at the fugitive, who, with his boat, was becoming
smaller and smaller every minute, Tom turned
and retraced his steps.


CHAPTER X
OFF TO ALBANY
"Did you catch him, Tom?" asked Mr. Swift
eagerly when his son returned, but the inventor
needed but a glance at the lad's despondent face
to have his question answered without words.
"Never mind," he added, "there's not much harm
done, fortunately."
"Did he get anything? Any of your plans or
models, dad?"
"No; not as far as I can discover. My papers
in the shop were not disturbed, but it looked as
if the turbine model had been moved. The only
thing missing seems to be a sheet of unimportant
calculations. Luckily I had my most valuable
drawings in the safe in the house."
"Yet that man seemed to be putting papers in
his pocket, dad. Maybe he made copies of some
of your drawings."
"That's possible, Tom, and I admit it worries
me. I can't imagine who that man is, unless "
"Why, he's one of the three men I saw in
76


OFF TO ALBANY
77
Mansburg in the restaurant," said Tom eagerly.
"Two of them tried to get information here, and
now the third one comes. He got away in a
motor-boat," and Tom told how the fugitive es-
caped.
Mr. Swift looked worried. It was not the first
time attempts had been made to steal his inven-
tions, but on this occasion a desperate and well-
organized plan appeared to be on foot.
"What do you think they are up to, dad?"
asked Tom.
"I think they are trying to get hold of my tur-
bine motor, Tom. You know I told you that
the financiers were disappointed in the turbine
motor they bought of another inventor. It does
not work. To get back the money they spent in
building an expensive plant they must have a
motor that is successful. Hence their efforts to
get control of mine. I don't know whether I told
you or not, but some time ago I refused a very
good offer for certain rights in my invention. I
knew it was worth more. The offer came through
Smeak & Katch, the lawyers, and when I refused
it they seemed much disappointed. I think now
that this same firm, and the financiers who have
employed them, are trying by all the means in
their power to get possession of my ideas, if not
the invention and model itself.”


78
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"What can you do, dad ?".
"Well, I must think. I certainly must take
some means to protect myself. I have had trou-
ble before, but never any like this. I did not
:hink those men would be so unscrupulous."
"Do you know their names ?"
"No, only from that telegram we found; the
one which the first stranger dropped. One of
them must be Anson Morse. Who the others are
I don't know. But now I must make some plans
to foil these sharpers. I may have to call on you
for help, Tom."
"And I'll be ready any time you call on me,
dad," responded Tom, drawing himself up. "Can
I do anything for you right away?"
"No; I must think out a plan."
"Then I am going to change my motor-cycle a
bit. I'll put some more improvements on it."
"And I will write some letters to my lawyers
in Washington and ask their advice."
It took Tom the remainder of that day, and
part of the next, to arrange the gasolene and
spark control of his machine to his satisfaction.
He had to make two small levers and some con-
necting rods. This he did in his own particular
machine shop, which was fitted up with a lathe
and other apparatus. The lathe was run by power
coming from a small engine, which was operated


OFF TO ALBANY
81
The colored man was very willing to take a
rest, but it did not last long, for Tom was soon
back at the chicken coop. He had a small rubber
disk, with a hole in the center, the size of the
brush handle. Slipping the disk over the wood,
he pushed it about half way along, and then, hand-
ing the brush back to the negro, told him to try
it that way.
"Did yo' done put a charm on mah bresh?"
asked Eradicate somewhat doubtfully.
"Yes, a sort of hoodoo charm. Try it now."
The darky dipped his brush in the pail of white-
wash, and then began to spread the disinfectant
on the sides of the coop near the top. The surplus
fluid started to run down the handle, but, meeting
the piece of rubber, came no farther, and dripped
off on the ground. It did not run down the sleeve
of Eradicate.
"Well, I 'clar † goodness! Dat suttinly am a
mighty fine charm!" cried the colored man. "Yo'
suah am a pert gen'men, all right. Now I kin
work widout stoppin'ť empty mah sleeve ob
lime juice ebery minute. I'se suttinly obliged ť
yo'."
"You're welcome, I'm sure," replied Tom. "I
think some day I'll invent a machine for white-
washing, and then "
"Doan't do dat! Doan't do dat!" begged


82 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
Eradicate earnestly. "Dis, an' makin' dirt disap-
pear, am de only perfessions I got. Doan't go
'ventin' no machine, Mistah Swift."
"All right. I'll wait until you get rich."
"Ha, ha! Den yo' gwine t' wait a pow'ful long
time," chuckled Eradicate as he went on with
his whitewashing.
Tom went into the house. He found his father
busy with some papers at his desk.
"Ah, it's you, is it, Tom?" asked the inventor,
looking up. "I was just wishing you would come
in."
"What for, dad?"
"Well, I have quite an important mission for
you. I want you to go on a journey."
"A journey? Where?"
"To Albany. You see, I've been thinking over
matters, and I have been in correspondence with
my lawyers in regard to my turbine motor. I
must take measures to protect myself. You know
I have not yet taken out a complete patent on the
machine. I have not done so because I did not
want to put my model on exhibition in Washing-
ton. I was afraid some of those unscrupulous
men would take advantage of me. Another point
was that I had not perfected a certain device that
goes on the motor, That objection is now re


OFF TO ALBANY
moved, and I am ready to send my model to
Washington, and take out the complete patent."
"But I thought you said you wanted me to go
to Albany."
"So I do. I will explain. I have just had a
letter from Reid & Crawford, my Washington
attorneys. Mr. Crawford, the junior member of
the firm, will be in Albany this week on some law
business. He agrees to receive my model and
some papers there, and take them back to Wash-
ington with him. In this way they will be well
protected. You see, I have to be on my guard,
and if I send the model to Albany, instead of the
national capital, I may throw the plotters off the
track, for I feel that they are watching every move
I make. As soon as you or I should start for
Washington they would be on our trail. But
you can go to Albany unsuspected. Mr. Craw-
ford will wait for you there. I want you to start
day after to-morrow."
"All right, dad. I can start now, if you say
so."
"No, there is no special need for haste. I have
some matters to arrange. You might go to the
station and inquire about trains to the State capic
al."
"Am I going by train ?"
"Certainly. How else could you go?"


OFF TO ALBANY
go all over my machine now, to see that it's in
good shape. You get your papers and model
ready, dad, and I'll take them to Albany for you.
The motor-cycle will come in handy."
But had Tom only known the dangers ahead
of him, and the risks he was to run, he would
not have whistled so light heartedly as he went
over every nut and bolt on his machine.
Two days later, the valuable model, having
been made into a convenient package, and wrapped
in water-proof paper, was fastened back of the
saddle on the motor-cycle. Tom carefully pinned
in an inside pocket the papers which were to be
handed to Mr. Crawford. He was to meet the
lawyer at a hotel in Albany.
"Now take care of yourself, Tom," cautioned
his father as he bade him good-by. "Don't try
to make speed, as there is no special rush. And,
above all, don't lose anything."
"I'll not, dad," and with a wave of his hand to
Mr. Swift and the housekeeper, who stood in the
door to see him off, Tom jumped into the saddle,
started the machine, and then, after sufficient mo-
mentum had been attained, he turned on the gaso-
lene and set the spark lever. With rattles and
bangs, which were quickly subdued by the muf-
fler, the machine gathered speed. Tom was off
for Albany.


A VINDICTIVE TRAMP
in which lay the town of Shopton and the city of
Mansburg. For several miles Tom's route would
lie through a country district. The first large
town he would reach would be Centreford. He
planned to get lunch there, and he had brought a
few sandwiches with him to eat along the road
in case he became hungry before he reached the
place.
"I hope the package containing the model
doesn't jar off," mused the lad as he reached be-
hind to make sure that the precious bundle was
safe. "Dad would be in a bad way if that should
disappear. And the papers, too." He put his
hand to his inner pocket to feel that they were
secure. Coming to a little down-grade, Tom shut
off some of the power, the new levers he had ar-
ranged to control the gasolene and spark working
well.
"I think I'll take the old wood road and pass
through Pompville," Tom decided, after covering
another mile or two. He was approaching a di-
vision in the highway. "It's a bit sandy," he
went on, "and the going will be heavy, but it will
be a good chance to test my machine. Besides,
I'll save five miles, and, while I don't have to
hurry, I may need time on the other end. I'd
rather arrive in Albany a little before dusk than
after dark. I can deliver the model and papers


88
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
and have a good night's sleep before starting
back. So the old wood road it will be."
The wood road, as Tom called it, was a seldom
used highway, which, originally, was laid out for
just what the name indicated, to bring wood
from the forest. With the disappearance of most
of the trees the road became more used for or-
dinary traffic between the towns of Pompville and
Edgefield. But when the State built a new high-
way connecting these two places the old road fell
into disuse, though it was several miles shorter
than the new turnpike.
He turned from the main thoroughfare, and
was soon spinning along the sandy stretch, which
was shaded with trees that in some places met
overhead, forming a leafy arch. It was cool and
pleasant, and Tom liked it.
"It isn't as bad as I thought," he remarked.
"The sand is pretty thick, but this machine of
mine appears to be able to crawl through it."
Indeed, the motor-cycle was doing remarkably
well, but Tom found that he had to turn on full
power, for the big rubber wheels went deep into
the soft soil. Along Tom rode, picking out the
firmest places in the road. He was so intent on
this that he did not pay much attention to what
was immediately ahead of him, knowing that he
was not very likely to meet other vehicles or pedes-


A VINDICTIVE TRAMP
89
trians. He was considerably startled therefore
when, as he went around a turn in the highway
where the bushes grew thick, right down to the
edge of the road, to see a figure emerge from the
underbrush and start across the path. So quickly
did the man appear that Tom was almost upon
him in an instant, and even though the young in-
ventor shut off the power and applied the brake,
the front wheel hit the man and knocked him
down.
"What's the matter with you? What are you
trying to do—kill me? Why don't you ring a
bell or blow a horn when you're coming ?" The
man had sprung up from the soft sand where the
wheel from the motor-cycle had sent him and
faced Tom angrily. Then the rider, who had
quickly dismounted, saw that his victim was a
ragged tramp.
"I'm sorry," began Tom. "You came out of
the bushes so quickly that I didn't have a chance
to warn you. Did I hurt you much?"
"Well, youse might have. 'Tain't your fault
dat youse didn't," and the tramp began to brush
the dirt from his ragged coat. Tom was instantly
struck by a curious fact. The tramp in his sec-
ond remarks used language more in keeping with
his character, whereas, in his first surprise and
anger, he had talked much as any other person


90
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
would. "Youse fellers ain't got no right t ride
dem machines like lightnin' along de roads," the
ragged chap went on, and he still clung to the use
of words and expressions current among his fra-
ternity. Tom wondered at it, and then, ascribing
the use of the better language to the fright caused
by being hit by the machine, the lad thought no
more about it at the time. There was occasion,
however, when he attached more meaning to it.
"I'm very sorry," went on Tom. "I'm sure I
didn't mean to. You see, I was going quite slow-
ly, and "
"You call dat slow, when youse hit me an'
knocked me down?" demanded the tramp. "I'd
oughter have youse arrested, dat's what, an' I
would if dere was a cop handy."
"I wasn't going at all fast," said Tom, a little
nettled that his conciliatory words should be so
rudely received. "If I had been going full speed
I'd have knocked you fifty feet."
"It's a good thing. Cracky, den I'm glad dat
youse wasn't goin' like dat," and the tramp seemed
somewhat confused. This time Tom looked at
him more closely, for the change in his language
had been very plain. The fellow seemed uneasy,
and turned his face away. As he did so Tom
caught a glimpse of what he was sure was a
false beard. It was altogether too well-kept a


A VINDICTIVE TRAMP
91
beard to be a natural one for such a dirty tramp
as this one appeared to be.
"That fellow's disguised !" Tom thought. "He's
playing a part. I wonder if I'd better take chances
and spring it on him that I'm on to his game?"
Then the ragged man spoke again:
"I s'pose it was part my fault, cully. I didn't
know dat any guy was comin' along on one of
dem buzz-machines, or I'd been more careful. I
don't s'pose youse meant to upset me?" and he
looked at Tom more boldly. This time his words
seemed so natural, and his beard, now that Tom
took a second look at it, so much a part of him-
self, that the young inventor wondered if he could
have been mistaken in his first surmise.
"Perhaps he was once a gentleman, and has
turned tramp because of hard luck," thought Tom.
"That would account for him using good language
at times. Guess I'd better keep still." Then to
the tramp he said: "I'm sure I didn't mean to
hit you. I admit I wasn't looking where I was
going, but I never expected to meet any one on
this road. I certainly didn't expect to see a "
He paused in some confusion. He was about
to use the term "tramp," and he hesitated, not
knowing how it would be received by his victim.
"Oh, dat's all right, cully. Call me a tramp-
I know dat's what youse was goin' t say. I'm


92 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
used t' it. I've been a hobo so many years now
dat I don't mind. De time was when I was a
decent chap, though. But I'm a tramp now. Say,
youse couldn't lend me a quarter, could youse?"
He approached closer to Tom, and looked quick-
ly up and down the road. The highway was de-
serted, nor was there any likelihood that any
one would come along. Tom was somewhat ap-
prehensive, for the tramp was a burly specimen.
The young inventor, however, was not so much
alarmed at the prospect of a personal encounter,
as that he feared he might be robbed, not only of
his money, but the valuable papers and model he
carried. Even if the tramp was content with
taking his money, it would mean that Tom would
have to go back home for more, and so postpone
his trip.
So it was with no little alarm that he watched
the ragged man coming nearer to him. Then a
bright idea came into Tom's head. He quickly
shifted his position so that he brought the heavy
motor-cycle between the man and himself. He
resolved, if the tramp showed a disposition to at-
tack him, to push the machine over on him, and
this would give Tom a chance to attack the thief
to better advantage. However, the "hobo"
showed no evidence of wanting to resort to high-


A VINDICTIVE TRAMP
95
ness on the part of the tramp that he did not know
what to do. Then, before he could recover him-
self, the tramp darted into the bushes.
"I guess Happy Harry—dat's me has spoiled
your ride t' Albany!" the tramp cried. "Maybe
next time youse won't run down poor fellers on de
road," and with that, the ragged man, shaking
his fist at Tom, was lost to sight in the under-
brush.
"Well, if that isn't a queer end up," mused Tom.
"He must be crazy. I hope I don't meet you
again, Happy Harry, or whatever your name is.
Guess I'll get out of this neighborhood."


CHAPTER XII
THE MEN IN THE AUTO
Tom first made sure that the package contain-
ing the model was still safely in place back of his
saddle on the motor-cycle. Finding it there he
next put his hand in his pocket to see that he had
the papers.
"They're all right," spoke Tom aloud. "I
didn't know but what that chap might have
worked a pickpocket game on me. I'm glad I
didn't meet him after dark. Well, it's a good
thing it's no worse. I wonder if he tried to get
my machine away from me? Don't believe he'd
know how to ride it if he did."
Tom wheeled his motor-cycle to a hard side-
path along the old road, and jumped into the sad-
dle. He worked the pedals preparatory to turn-
ing on the gasolene and spark to set the motor
in motion. As he threw forward the levers, hav-
ing acquired what he thought was the necessary
momentum, he was surprised that no explosion
followed. The motor seemed "dead.”
96


THE MEN IN THE AUTO
97
“That's queer," he thought, and he began to
pedal more rapidly. "It always used to start
easily. "Maybe it doesn't like this sandy road."
It was hard work sending the heavy machine
along by "leg power," and once more, when he
had acquired what he thought was sufficient speed,
Tom turned on the power. But no explosions fol-
lowed, and in some alarm he jumped to the
ground.
"Something's wrong," he said aloud. "That
tramp must have damaged the machine when he
yanked it so." Tom went quickly over the dif-
ferent parts. It did not take him long to discover
what the trouble was. One of the wires, leading
from the batteries to the motor, which wire served
to carry the current of electricity that exploded
the mixture of air and gasolene, was missing. It
had been broken off close to the battery box and
the spark plug.
"That's what Happy Harry did !" exclaimed
Tom. "He pulled that wire off when he yanked
my machine. That's what he meant by hoping
I'd get to Albany. That fellow was no tramp'
He was disguised, and up to some game. And
he knows something about motor-cycles, too, or
he never would have taken that wire. I'm stalled,
now, for I haven't got another piece. I ought


98 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
to have brought some. I'll have to push this
machine until I get to town, or else go back home."
The young inventor looked up and down the
lonely road, undecided what to do. To return
home meant that he would be delayed in getting
to Albany, for he would lose a day. If he pushed
on to Pompville he might be able to get a bit of
wire there.
Tom decided that was his best plan, and plodded
on through the thick sand. He had not gone
more than a quarter of a mile, every step seeming
harder than the preceding one, when he heard,
from the woods close at his left hand, a gun fired.
He jumped so that he nearly let the motor-cycle
fall over, for a wild idea came into his head that
the tramp had shot at him. With a quickly.
beating heart the lad looked about him.
"I wonder if that was Happy Harry?" he
mused.
There was a crackling in the bushes and Tom,
wondering what he might do to protect himself,
looked toward the place whence the noise pro-
ceeded. A moment later a hunter stepped into
view. The man carried a gun and wore a canvas
suit, a belt about his waist being filled with car-
tridges.
"Hello!" he exclaimed pleasantly. Then, see-
ing a look of alarm on the lad's face, he went on:


THE MEN IN THE AUTO 99
“I hope I didn't shoot in your direction, young
man; did I pus
"No—no, sir," replied the youthful inventor,
who had hardly recovered his composure. "I
heard your gun, and I imagined "
"Did you think you had been shot? You must
have a very vivid imagination, for I fired in the
air."
"No, I didn't exactly think that," replied Tom,
"but I just had an encounter with an ugly tramp,
and I feared he might be using me for a target.
"Is that so. I hadn't noticed any tramps around
here, and I've been in these woods nearly all day.
Did he harm you?"
"No, not me, but my motor-cycle," and the lad
explained.
"Pshaw! That's too bad!" exclaimed the
hunter. "I wish I could supply you with a bit
of wire, but I haven't any. I'm just walking
about, trying my new gun."
"I shouldn't think you'd find anything to shoot
this time of year," remarked Tom.
"I don't expect to," answered the hunter, who
had introduced himself as Theodore Duncan.
"But I have just purchased a new gun, and I
wanted to try it. I expect to do considerable
hunting this fall, and so I'm getting ready for
it.”


THE MEN IN THE AUTO
101
like him. Perhaps I may see him when I go to
Waterford, if I ever do."
Tom was destined to see the hunter again, at
no distant time, and under strange circumstances.
But now the lad's whole attention was taken up
with the difficulty in which he found himself.
Vainly musing on what object the tramp could
have had in breaking off the wire, the young in-
ventor trudged on.
"I guess he was one of the gang after dad's
invention," thought Tom, "and he must have
wanted to hinder me from getting to Albany,
though why I can't imagine." With a dubious
shake of his head Tom proceeded. It was hard
work pushing the heavy machine through the
sand, and he was puffing before he had gone very
far.
"I certainly am up against it," he murmured.
"But if I can get a bit of wire in Pompville I'll
be all right. If I can't- "
Just then Tom saw something which caused
him to utter an exclamation of delight.
"That's the very thing !" he cried. "Why didn't
I think of it before?!!
Leaving his niotor-cycle standing against a tree
Tom hurried to a fence that separated the road
from a field. The fence was a barbed-wire one,
and in a moment Tom had found a broken strand.


102 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOI CYCLE
"Guess no one will care if I take a piece of
this," he reasoned. "It will answer until I can
get more. I'll have it in place in a jiffy!"
It did not take long to get his pliers from his
toolbag and snip off a piece of the wire. Un-
twisting it he took out the sharp barbs, and then
was ready to attach it to the binding posts of the
battery box and the spark plug.
"Hold on, though !" he exclaimed as he paused
in the work. "It's got to be insulated, or it will
vibrate against the metal of the machine and
short circuit. I have it! My handkerchief! I
s'pose Mrs. Baggert will kick at tearing up a
good one, but I can't help it."
Tom took a spare handkerchief from the bundle
in which he had a few belongings carried with
the idea of spending the night at an Albany hotel,
and he was soon wrapping strips of linen around
the wire, tying them with pieces of string.
"There!" he exclaimed at length. "That's in-
sulated good enough, I guess. Now to fasten it
on and start."
The young inventor, who was quick with tools,
soon had the improvised wire in place. He tested
the spark and found that it was almost as good
as when the regular copper conductor was in
place. Then, having taken a spare bit of the
barbed-wire along in case of another emergency,


THE MEN IN THE AUTO
103
he jumped on the motor-cycle, pedaled it until
sufficient speed was attained, and turned on the
power.
"That's the stuff!" he cried as the welcome ex-
plosions sounded. "I guess I've fooled Happy
Harry! I'll get to Albany pretty nearly on time,
anyhow. But that tramp surely had me worried
for a while."
He rode into Pompville, and on inquiring in a
plumbing shop managed to get a bit of copper
wire that answered better than did the galvanized
piece from the fence. The readjustment was
quickly made, and he was on his way again. As
it was getting close to noon he stopped near a
little spring outside of Pompville and ate a sand-
wich, washing it down with the cold water. Then
he started for Centreford.
As he was coming into the city he heard an
automobile behind him. He steered to one side
of the road to give the big car plenty of room to
pass, but it did not come on as speedily as he
thought it would. He looked back and saw that
it was going to stop near hiin. Accordingly he
shut off the power of his machine.
"Is this the road to Centreford ?" asked one of
the travelers in the auto.
"Straight ahead," answered the lad.
At the sound of his voice one of the men in


104 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
the big touring car leaned forward and whispered
something to one on the front seat. The second
man nodded, and looked closely at Tom. The
youth, in turn, stared at the men. He could not
distinguish their faces, as they had on auto gogo
gles.
"How many miles is it?" asked the man who
had whispered, and at the sound of his voice Tom
felt a vague sense that he had heard it before.
"Three," answered the young inventor, and
once more he saw the men whisper among them-
selves.
"Thanks," spoke the driver of the car, and
he threw in the gears. As the big machine darted
ahead the goggles which one of the men wore
slipped off. Tom had a glimpse of his face.
"Anson Morse!" he exclaimed. "If that isn't
the man who was sneaking around dad's motor
shop he's his twin brother! I wonder if those
aren't the men who are after the patent model ?
I must be on my guard !" and Tom, watching the
car fade out of sight on the road ahead of him,
slowly started his motor-cycle. He was much
puzzled and alarmed.


CHAPTER XIII
CAUGHT IN A STORM
The more Tom tried to reason out the cause
of the men's actions, the more he dwelt upon his
encounter with the tramp, and the harder he en-
deavored to seek a solution of the queer puzzle
the more complicated it seemed. He rode on
until he saw in a valley below him the buildings
of the town of Centreford, and, with a view of
them, a new idea came into his mind.
"I'll go get a good dinner," he decided, "and
perhaps that will help me to think more clearly.
That's what dad always does when he's puzzling
over an invention." He was soon seated in a
restaurant, where he ate a substantial dinner.
"I'm just going to stop puzzling over this matter,"
he decided. "I'll push on to Albany and tell the
lawyer, Mr. Crawford. Perhaps he can advise
me."
Once this decision was made Tom felt better.
"That's just what I needed," he thought; "some
105


110 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
out. The auto had disappeared do. /n the road
behind a veil of rain, and, shaking his head over
the strange occurrence, Tom went back to where
he had left his motor-cycle.
"Things are getting more and more muddled,"
he said. "I'm sure those were the same men,
and yet- "
He shrugged his shoulders. The puzzle was
getting beyond him.


CHAPTEP. XIV
ATTACKED FROM BEHIND
Steadily the rain came down, the wind driv-
ing it under the shed until Tom was hard put to
find a place where the drops would not reach him.
He withdrew into a far corner, taking his motor-
cycle with him, and then, sitting on a block of
wood, under the rough mangers where the horses
were fed while the farmers attended church, the
lad thought over the situation. He could make
little of it, and the more he tried the worse it
seemed to become. He looked out across the wet
landscape.
"I wonder if this is ever going to stop?" he
mused. "It looks as if it was in for an all-day
pour, yet we ought only to have a summer shower,
by rights.
"But then I guess what I think about it won't
influence the weather man a bit. I might as well
make myself comfortable, for I can't do anything.
Let's see. If I get to Fordham by six o'clock
III


112 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
I ought to be able to make Albany by nine, as it's
only forty miles. I'll get supper in Fordham, and
push on. That is, I will if the rain stops."
That was the most necessary matter to have
'iappen first, and Tom arising from his seat
strolled over to the front of the shed to look out.
"I believe it is getting lighter in the west," he
told himself. "Yes, the clouds are lifting. It's
going to clear. It's only a summer shower, after
all."
But just as he said that there came a sudden
squall of wind and rain, fiercer than any which
had preceded. Tom was driven back to his seat
on the log. It was quite chilly now, and he no-
ticed that near where he sat there was a big open-
ing in the rear of the shed, where a couple of
boards were off.
"This must be a draughty place in winter," he
observed. "If I could find a drier spot I'd sit
there, but this seems to be the best," and he re-
mained there, musing on many things. Sudden-
ly in the midst of his thoughts he imagined he
heard the sound of an automobile approaching,
"I wonder if those men are coming back here?"
he exclaimed. "If they are "
The youth again arose, and went to the front
of the shed. He could see nothing, and came back
to escape the rain. There was no doubt but that


ATTACKED FROM BEHIND
.
113
the shower would soon be over, and looking at his
watch, Tom began to calculate when he might
arrive in Albany.
He was busy trying to figure out the best plan
to pursue, and was hardly conscious of his sur-
roundings. Seated on the log, with his back to
the opening in the shed, the young inventor could
not see a figure stealthily creeping up through the
wet grass. Nor could he see an automobile, which
had come to a stop back of the horse shelter—an
automobile containing two rain-soaked men, who
were anxiously watching the one stealing through
the grass.
Tom put his watch back into his pocket and
looked out into the storm. It was almost over.
The sun was trying to shine through the clouds,
and only a few drops were falling. The youth
stretched with a yawn, for he was tired of sitting
still. At the moment when he raised his arms to
relieve his muscles something was thrust through
the opening behind him. It was a long club, and
an instant later it descended on the lad's head.
He went down in a heap, limp and motionless.
Through the opening leaped a man. He bent
over Tom, looked anxiously at him, and then,
stepping to the place where the boards were off
the shed, he motioned to the men in the automo-


114 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
bile. They hurried from the machine, and were
soon beside their companion.
"I knocked him out, all right," observed the
man who had reached through and dealt Tom the
blow with the club.
"Knocked him out! I should say you did,
Featherton!" exclaimed one who appeared better
dressed than the others. "Have you killed him?"
"No; but I wish you wouldn't mention my
name, Mr. Appleson. I—I don't like "
"Nonsense, Featherton. No one can hear us.
But I'm afraid you've done for the chap. I didn't
want him harmed."
"Oh, I guess Featherton knows how to do it,
Appleson," commented the third man. "He's had
experience that way, eh, Featherton ?"
"Yes, Mr. Morse; but if you please I wish you
wouldn't mention "
All right, Featherton, I know what you mean,"
rejoined the man addressed as Morse. "Now let's
see if we have drawn a blank or not. I think he
has with him the very thing we want."
"Doesn't seem to be about his person," ob-
served Appleson, as he carefully felt about the
clothing of the unfortunate Tom.
"Very likely not. It's too bulky. But there's
his motor-cycle over there. It looks as if what we


ATTACKED FROM BEHIND
115
wanted was on the back of the saddle. Jove,
Featherton, but I think he's coming to!"
Tom stirred uneasily and moved his arms, while
a moan came from between his parted lips.
"I've got some stuff that will fix him!" ex-
claimed the man addressed as Featherton, and
who had been operating the automobile. He took
something from his pocket and leaned over Tom.
In a moment the young inventor was still again.
"Quick now, see if it's there," directed Morse,
and Appleson hurried over to the machine.
"Here it is !" he called. "I'll take it to our
car, and we can get away."
"Are you going to leave him here like this?"
asked Morse.
"Yes; why not?"
"Because some one might have seen him come
in here, and also remember that we, too, came in
this direction."
"What would you do?"
"Take him down the road a way and leave him.
We can find some shed near a farmhouse where
he and his machine will be out of sight until we
get far enough away. Besides, I don't like to
leave him so far from help, unconscious as he
is."
"Oh, you're getting chicken-hearted," said
Appleson with a sneer. "However, have your


A VAIN SEARCH
119
ears. "That's it. I've met with an accident-
riding my motor-cycle. I must have hit my head,
for it hurts fearful. They picked me up, carried
me to a hospital and have operated on me. I
wonder if they took off an arm or leg? I won.
der what hospital I'm in? Why is it so dark and
cold?"
As he asked himself these questions his brain
gradually cleared from the haze caused by the
cowardly blow, and from the chloroform that
had been administered by Featherton.
Tom's first act was to feel first of one arm,
then the other. Having satisfied himself that
neither of these members were mutilated he
reached down to his legs.
"Why, they're all right, too," he murmured. "I
wonder what they did to me? That's certainly
chloroform I smell, and iny head feels as if some
one had sat on it. I wonder- ”.
Quickly he put up his hands to his head. There
appeared to be nothing the matter with it, save
that there was quite a lump on the back, where
the club had struck.
"I seem to be all here," went on Tom, much
mystified. "But where am I? That's the ques-
tion. It's a funny hospital, so cold and dark "
Just then his hands came in contact with the
cold ground on which he was lying.


120 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
“Why, I'm outdoors !" he exclaimed. Then in
a flash it all came back to him—how he had gone
to wait under the church shed until the rain was
over.
"I fell asleep, and now it's night," the youth
went on. "No wonder I am sore and stiff. And
that chloroform— ” He could not account for
that, and he paused, puzzled once more. Then he
struggled to a sitting position. His head was
strangely dizzy, but he persisted, and got to his
feet. He could see nothing, and groped around
In the dark, until he thought to strike a match.
Fortunately he had a number in his pocket. As
the little flame flared up Tom started in surprise.
"This isn't the church shed !" he exclaimed.
It's much smaller! I'm in a different place! Great
Scott! but what has happened to me?"
The match burned Tom's fingers and he
dropped it. The darkness closed in once more,
but Tom was used to it by this time, and looking
ahead of him he could make out that the shed
was an open one, similar to the one where he had
taken shelter. He could see the sky studded with
stars, and could feel the cold night wind blowing
in.
"My motor-cycle!" he exclaimed in alarm.
"The model of dad's invention—the papers!"
Our hero thrust his hand into his pocket. The


122 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
wherever it was. Tom was a shrewd reasoner,
and he soon evolved a theory which he afterward
learned was the correct one. He reasoned out
almost every step in the crime of which he was
the victim, and at last came to the conclusion that
the men had stolen up behind the shed and at-
tacked him.
"Now, the next question to settle," spoke Tom,
"is to learn where I am. How far did those
scoundrels carry me, and what has become of
my motor-cycle?"
He walked toward the point of the shed where
he could observe the stars gleaming, and there
he lighted some more matches, hoping he might
see his machine. By the gleam of the little flame
he noted that he was in a farmyard, and he was
just puzzling his brain over the question as to
what city or town he might be near when he heard
a voice shouting:
"Here, what you lightin' them matches for?
You want to set the place afire? Who be you,
anyhow—a tramp?”.
It was unmistakably the voice of a farmer, and
Tom could hear footsteps approaching on the run.
"Who be you, anyhow?" the voice repeated.
"I'll have the constable after you in a jiffy if
you're a tramp."


A VAIN SEARCH
123
“I'm not a tramp," called Tom promptly. "I've
met with an accident. Where am I ?”.
"Humph! Mighty funny if you don't know
where you are," commented the farmer. "Jed,
'bring a lantern until I take a look at who this is."
"All right, pop," answered another voice, and
a moment later Tom saw a tall man standing in
front of him.
"I'll give you a look at me without waiting for
the lantern," said Tom quickly, and he struck a
match, holding it so that the gleam fell upon his
face.
"Salt mackerel! It's a young feller!" exclaimed
the farmer. "Who be you, anyhow, and what
you doin' here?"
"That's just what I would like to know," said
Tom, passing his hand over his head, which was
still paining him. "Am I near Albany? That's
where I started for this morning."
"Albany? You're a good way from Albany,"
replied the farmer. "You're in the village of
Dunkirk."
"How far is that from Centreford?"
"About seventy miles."
"As far as that?" cried Tom. "They must
have carried me a good way in their automobile."
"Was you in that automobile?" demanded the
farmer.


124. TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"Which one?" asked Tom quickly.
"The one that stopped down the road just be-
fore supper. I see it, but I didn't pay no atten-
tion to it. If I'd 'a' knowed you fell out, though,
I'd 'a' come to help you."
"I didn't fall out, Mr.—er— " Tom paused.
"Blackford is my name; Amos Blackford."
"Well, Mr. Blackford, I didn't fall out. I was
drugged and brought here."
"Drugged! Salt mackerel! But there's been
a crime committed, then. Jed, hurry up with that
lantern an'git your deputy sheriff's badge on.
There's been druggin' an' all sorts of crimes com-
mitted. I've caught one of the victims. Hurry
up! My son's a deputy sheriff," he added, by
way of an explanation.
"Then I hope he can help me catch the scoun-
drels who robbed me," said Tom.
"Robbed you, did they? Hurry up, Jed.
There's been a robbery! We'll rouse the neigh-
borhood an' search for the villains. Hurry up,
Jed!"
"I'd rather find my motor-cycle, and a valuable
model which was on it, than locate those men,"
went on Tom. "They also took some papers
from me."
Then he told how he had started for Albany,
adding his theory of how he had been attacked and


A VAIN SEARCH
125
carried away in the auto. The latter part of it
was borne out by the testimony of Mr. Black-
ford.
"What I know about it," said the farmer, when
his son Jed had arrived on the scene with a lan-
tern and his badge, "is that jest about supper time
I saw an automobile stop down the road a bit.
It was gittin' dusk, an' I saw some men git out.
I didn't pay no attention to them, 'cause I was
busy about the milkin'. The next I knowed I
seen some one strikin' matches in my wagon shed,
an' I come out to see what it was."
"The men must have brought me all the way
from the church shed near Centreford to here,"
declared Tom. "Then they lifted me out and put
me in your shed. Maybe they left my motor-
cycle also."
"I didn't see nothin' like that," said the farmer.
"Is that what you call one of them two-wheeled
lickity-split things that a man sits on the middle
of an' goes like chain-lightning ?"
"It is," said Tom. "I wish you'd help me look
for it."
The farmer and his son agreed, and other lan+
terns having been secured, a search was made.
After about half an hour the motor-cycle was dis-
covered in some bushes at the side of the road,
near where the automobile had stopped. But the


CHAPTER XVI
BACK HOME
"We've got to organize a regular searchin'
party," declared Jed Blackford, after he and his
father, together with Tom and the farmer's hired
man, had searched up and down the road by the
light of lanterns. "We'll organize a posse an'
have a regular hunt. This is the worst crime
that's been committed in this deestrict in many
years, an' I'm goin' to run the scoundrels to
earth."
"Don't be talkin' nonsense, Jed," interrupted his
father. "You won't catch them fellers in a hun-
dred years. They're miles an' miles away from
here by this time in their automobile. All you can
do is to notify the sheriff. I guess we'd better
give this young man some attention. Let's see,
you said your name was Quick, didn't you ?"
"No, but it's very similar," answered Tom with
a smile. "It's Swift."
"I knowed it was something had to do with
127


130 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
ter, but when they headed for the city, as they
probably did, they knew it would attract suspicion
to 'em. I know, for I've been a deputy sheriff
.'most a year."
"I believe you're right," agreed Tom. "They
didn't dare take the motor-cycle with them, but
they hid it, hoping I would not find it. I'd rather
have the model and the papers, though, than half a
dozen motor-cycles."
"Maybe the police will help you find them," said
Mrs. Blackford. "Jed, you must telephone to the
police the first thing in the morning. It's a shame
the way criminals are allowed to go on. If hon-
est people did those things, they'd be arrested in
a minute, but it seems that scoundrels can do as
they please."
"You wait; I'll catch 'em!" declared Jed confi-
dently. "I'll organize another posse in the morn-
in'."
"Well, ! know one thing, and that is that the
place for this young man is in bed !" exclaimed
motherly Mrs. Blackford, and she insisted on
Com retiring. He was somewhat restless at first,
and the thought of the loss of the model and the
papers preyed on his mind. Then, utterly ex-
hausted, he sank into a heavy slumber, and did
not awaken until the sun was shining in his win-
dow the next morning. A good breakfast made


BACK HOME
131
him feel somewhat better, and he was more like
the resourceful Tom Swift of old when he went
to get his motor-cycle in shape for the ride back
to Shopton.
"Well, I hope you find those criminals," said
Mr. Blackford, as he watched Tom oiling the
machine. "If you're ever out this way again, stop
off and see us."
"Yes, do," urged Mrs. Blackford, who was
getting ready to churn. Her husband looked at
the old-fashioned barrel and dasher arrangement,
which she was filling with cream.
"What's the matter with the new churn?" he
asked in some surprise.
"It's broken," she replied. "It's always the way
with those new-fangled things. It works ever so
much nicer than this old one, though," she went
on to Tom, "but it gets out of order easy."
"Let me look at it," suggested the young in-
ventor. "I know something about machinery."
The churn, which worked by a system of cogs
and a handle, was brought from the woodshed.
Tom soon saw what the trouble was. One of the
cogs had become displaced. It did not take him
five minutes, with the tools he carried on his
motor-cycle, to put it back, and the churn was
ready to use.


132 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
“Well, I declare!" exclaimed Mrs. Blackford.
"You are handy at such things !".
"Oh, it's just a knack," replied Tom modestly.
"Now I'll put a plug in there, and the cog wheel
won't come loose again. The manufacturers of
it ought to have done that. I imagine lots of
people have this same trouble with these churns." .
"Indeed they do," asserted Mrs. Blackford.
"Sallie Armstrong has one, and it got out of order
the first week they had it. I'll let her look at mine,
and maybe her husband can fix it."
"I'd go and do it myself, but I want to get
home," said Tom, and then he showed her how,
by inserting a small iron plug in a certain place,
there would be no danger of the cog coming loose
again.
"That's certainly slick!" exclaimed Mr. Black-
ford. "Well, I wish you good luck, Mr. Swift,
and if I see those scoundrels around this neigh-
borhood again I'll make 'em wish they'd let you
alone."
"That's what," added Jed, polishing his badge
with his big, red handkerchief.
Mrs. Blackford transferred the cream to the
new churn which Tom had fixed, and as he rode
off down the highway on his motor-cycle, she
waved one hand to him, while with the other she
operated the handle of the apparatus.


CHAPTER XVII
MR. SWIFT IN DESPAIR
Tom was thinking of many things as his speedy
machine carried him mile after mile nearer home.
By noon he was over half way on his journey,
and he stopped in a small village for his dinner.
"I think I'll make inquiries of the police here,
to see if they caught sight of those men," decided
Tom as he left the restaurant. "Though I am
inclined to believe they kept on to Albany, or
some large city, where they have their headquar-
ters. They will want to make use of dad's model
as soon as possible, though what they will do with
it ! don't know." He tried to telephone to his
father, but could get no connection, as the wire
was being repaired.
The police force of the place where "Tom had
stopped for lunch was like the town itself—small
and not of much consequence. The chief consta-
ble, for he was not what one could call a chief
of police, had heard of the matter from the alarm
134


MR. SWIFT IN DESPAIR
135
sent out in all directions from Dunkirk, where Mr.
Blackford lived.
"You don't mean to tell me you're the young
man who was chloroformed and robbed !" ex-
claimed the constable, looking at Tom as if he
doubted his word.
"I'm the young man," declared our hero.
"Have you seen anything of the thieves ?”.
"Not a thing, though I've instructed all my men
to keep a sharp lookout for a red automobile, with
three scoundrels in it. My men are to make an
arrest on sight.”.
"How many men have you ?"
"Two," was the rather surprising answer; "but
one has to work on a farm daytimes, so I ain't
really got but one in what you might call active
service."
Tom restrained a desire to laugh. At any rate,
the aged constable meant well.
"One of my men seen a red automobile, a little
while before you come in my office," went on the
official, "but it wasn't the one wanted, 'cause a
young woman was running it all alone. It struck
me as rather curious that a woman would trust
herself all alone in one of them things; wouldn't
it you ?"
"Oh, no, women and young ladies often operate
them," said Tom.


136 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"I should think you'd findAme handier than the
two-wheeled apparatus you have out there," went
on the constable, indicating the motor-cycle, which
Tom had stood up against a tree.
"I may have one some day," replied the young
inventor. "But I guess I'll be moving on now.
Here's my address, in case you hear anything of
those men, but I don't imagine you will."
"Me either. Fellows as slick as them are won't
come back this way and run the chance of being
arrested by my men. I have two on duty nights,"
he went on proudly, "besides myself, so you see
we're pretty well protected."
Tom thanked him for the trouble he had taken,
and was soon on his way again. He swept on
along the quiet country roads anxious for the
time when he could consult with his father over
what would be the best course to take.
When Tom was about a mile away from his
house he saw in the road ahead of him a rickety
old wagon, and a second glance at it told him
the outfit belonged to Eradicate Sampson, for
the animal drawing the vehicle was none other
than the mule, Boomerang.
"But what in the world is Rad up to?" mused
Tom, for the colored man was out of the wagon
and was going up and down in the grass at the


MR. SWIFT IN DESPAIR
137
side of the highway in a curious fashion. "I
guess he's lost something," decided Tom.
When he got nearer he saw what Eradicate
was doing. The colored man was pushing a lawn-
mower slowly to and fro in the tall, rank grass
that grew beside the thoroughfare, and at the
sound of Tom's motor-cycle the negro looked
up. There was such a woe-begone expression on
his face that Tom at once stopped his machine
and got off.
"What's the matter, Rad?" Tom asked.
"Mattah, Mistah Swift? Why, dere's a pow'-
ful lot de mattah, an'dat's de truff. I'se been
swindled, dat's what I has."
"Swindled? How ?"
"Well, it's dis-a-way. Yo' see dis yeah lawn-
moah ?"
"Yes; it doesn't seem to work," and Tom
glanced critically at it. As Eradicate pushed it
slowly to and fro, the blades did not revolve, and
the wheels slipped along on the grass.
"No, sah, it doan't work, an' dat's how I've
been swindled, Mistah Swift. Yo' see, I done
raded mah ole grindstone off for dis yeah lawn-
moah, an' I got stuck."
"What, that old grindstone that was broken in
two, and that you fastened together with con-
crete?" asked Tom, for he had seen the outfit


MR. SWIFT IN DESPAIR
139
lighted in nothing so much as tinkering with ma-
chines, from lawn-mowers to steam engines.
Tom took hold of the handle, which Eradicate
gladly relinquished to him, and his trained touch
told him at once what was the trouble.
"Some one has had the wheels off and put them
on wrong, Rad," he said. "The ratchet and pawl
are reversed. This mower would work back-
wards, if that were possible."
"Am dat so, Mistah Swift?"
"That's it. All I have to do is to take off the
wheels and reverse the pawl."
"I—I didn't know mah lawn-moah was named
Paul," said the colored man. "Is it writ on it
anywhere?"
"No, it's not the kind of Paul you mean," said
Tom with a laugh. "It's spelled differently. A
pawl is a sort of catch that fits into a ratchet
wheel and pushes it around, or it may be used as
a catch to prevent the backward motion of a wind-
lass or the wheel on a derrick. I'll have it fixed
in a jiffy for you."
Tom worked rapidly. With a monkey-wrench
he removed the two big wheels of the lawn-mower
and reversed the pawl in the cogs. In five min-
utes he had replaced the wheels, and the machine,
except for needed sharpening, did good work.


140 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
"There you are, Rad!" exclaimed Tom at
length.
"Yo' suah am a wonder at inventin'!" cried
the colored man gratefully. "I'll cut yo' grass
all summah fo' yo' to pay fo' this, Mistah Swift."
"Oh, that's too much. I didn't do a great deal,
Rad."
"Well, yo' saved me from bein' swindled, Mis-
tah Swift, an' I suah does 'preciate dat."
"How about the fellow you traded the cracked
grindstone to, Rad?"
"Oh, well, ef he done run it slow it won't fly
apart, an' he'll do dat, anyhow, fo' he suah am a
lazy coon. I guess we am about even there, Mis-
tah Swift."
"All right," spoke Tom with a laugh. "Sharp-
en it up, Rad, and start in to cut grass. It will
soon be summer," and Tom, leaping upon his
motor-cycle, was off like a shot.
He found his father in his library, reading a
book on scientific matters. Mr. Swift looked up
in surprise at seeing his son.
"What! Back so soon ?" he asked. "You did
make a flying trip. Did you give the model and
papers to Mr. Crawford ?"
"No, dad, I was robbed yesterday. Those
scoundrels got ahead of us, after all. They have


MR. SWIFT IN DESPAIR
141
your model. I tried to telephone to you, but the
wires were down, or something."
"What!" cried Mr. Swift. "Oh, Tom! That's
600 bad! I will lose ten thousand dollars if I
can't get that model and those papers back!" and
with a despairing gesture Mr. Swift rose and
began to pace the floor.


CHAPTER XVIII
HAPPY HARRY AGAIN
Tom watched his father anxiously. The young
inventor knew the loss had been a heavy one, and
he blamed himself for not having been more care-
ful.
"Tell me all about it, Tom," said Mr. Swift at
length. "Are you sure the 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 doc-
tor?" For the time being his anxiety over his
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 it
would, for those scoundrels seemed very deter.
142


HAPPY HARRY AGAIN
143
mined. They are desperate, and will stop at noth-
ing to make good the loss they sustained on the
patent motor they exploited. Now they will prob-
ably try 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 construct one so nearly similar that
it will answer their purpose. I will have no re-
dress 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, or something like that?"
"I don't know. I must see Mr. Crawford at
once. I wonder if he could come here? He might
be able to advise me. I have had very little ex-
perience with legal difficulties. My specialty is in
other lines of work. But I must do something.
Every moment is valuable. I wonder who the
men were?"
"I'm sure one of them was the same man who
came here that night—the man with the black
mustache, who dropped the telegram," said Tom.
"I had a pretty good look at him as the auto
passed me, and I'm sure it was he. Of course I
didn't see who it was that struck me down, but
I imagine it was some one of the same gang."
"Very likely. Well, Tom, I must do some-
thing. I suppose I might telegraph to Mr. Craw-


HAPPY HARRY AGAIN
147
having done some work on a new boat propeller
he was contemplating patenting, Tom felt that it
was time to go to bed, as he was tired. He made
a second round of the house, looking to doors and
windows, until Mrs. Baggert exclaimed:
"Oh, Tom, do stop! You make me nervous,
going around that way. I'm sure I shan't sleep a
wink to-night, thinking of burglars and tramps."
Tom laughingly desisted, and went up to his
room. He sat up a few minutes, writing a letter
to a girl of his acquaintance, for, in spite of the
fact that the young inventor was very busy with
his own and his father's work, he found time for
lighter pleasures. Then, as his eyes seemed de-
termined to close of their own accord, if he did
not let them, he tumbled into bed.
Tom fancied it was nearly morning when he
suddenly awoke with a start. He heard a noise,
and at first he could not locate it. Then his trained
ear traced it to the dining-room.
"Why, Mrs. Baggert must be getting break-
fast, and is rattling the dishes," he thought. "But
why is she up so early?”.
It was quite dark in Tom's room, save for a
little gleam from the crescent moon, and by the
light of this Tom arose and looked at his watch.
"Two o'clock," he whispered. "That can't be


148 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
Mrs. Baggert, unless she's sick, and got up to
take some medicine."
He listened intently. Below, in the dining-
room, he could hear stealthy movements.
"Mrs. Baggert would never move around like
that," he decided. "She's too 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 turned on the electric light in his
room, he took from a corner a small rifle, which
he made sure was loaded. Then, having taken a
small electric flashlight, of the kind used by police-
men, and sometimes by burglars, he started on
tiptoe toward the lower floor.
As Tom softly descended the stairs he could
more plainly hear the movements of the intruder.
He made out now that the burglar was in Mr.
Swift's study, which opened from the dining-
room.
"He's after dad's papers !" thought Tom. "I
wonder which one this is ?"
The youth had often gone hunting in the woods,
and he knew how to approach cautiously. Thus
he was able to reach the door of the dining-room
without being detected. He had no need to flash
his light, for the intruder was doing that so fre-


HAPPY HARRY AGAIN
149
quently with one he carried that Tom could see
him perfectly. The fellow was working at the
safe in which Mr. Swift kept his more valuable
papers.
Softly, very softly Tom brought his rifle to bear
on the back of the thief. Then, holding the
weapon with one hand, for it was very light, Tom
extended the electric flash, so that the glare would
be thrown on the intruder and would leave his
own person in the black shadows. Pressing the
spring which caused the lantern to throw out
a powerful glow, Tom focused the rays on the
kneeling man.
"That will be about all !" the youth exclaimed
in as steady a voice as 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 lonely
road.


CHAPTER XIX
TOM ON A HUNT
Tom held his rifle in readiness, though he only
intended it as a means of intimidation, and would
not have fired at the burglar except to save his
own life. But the sight of the weapon was
enough for the tramp. He crouched motionless.
His own light had gone out, but by the gleam of
the electric he carried Tom could see that the man
had in his hand some tool with which he had
been endeavoring to force the safe.
"I guess you've got me!" exclaimed the in-
truder, and there was in his tones no trace of
the tramp dialect.
"It looks like it," agreed Tom grimly. "Are
you a tramp now, or in some other disguise ?"
"Can't you see?" asked the fellow sullenly, and
then Tom did notice that the man still had on his
tramp make-up.
"What do you want?" asked Tom.
"Hard to tell," replied the burglar calmly. "I
150


TOM ON A HUNT
151
hadn't got the safe open before you came down
and disturbed me. I'm after money, naturally."
"No, you're not !" exclaimed Tom.
"What's that?" and the man seemed surprised.
"No, you're not !" went on Tom, and he held
his rifle in readiness. "You're after the patent
papers and the model of the turbine motor. But
it's gone. Your confederates got it away from
me. They probably haven't told you yet, and
you're still on the hunt for it. You'll not get it,
but I've got you."
"So I see," admitted Happy Harry, and he
spoke with some culture. "If you don't mind,"
he went on, "would you just as soon move that
gun a little? It's pointing right at my head, and
it might go off."
"It is going off-very soon!" exclaimed Tom
grimly, and the tramp started in alarm. "Oh,
I'm not going to shoot you," continued the young
inventor. "I'm going to fire this as an alarm, and
the engineer will come in here and tie you up.
Then I'm going to hand you over to the police.
This rifle is a repeater, and I am a pretty good
shot. I'm going to fire once now, to summon as-
sistance, and if you try to get away I'll be ready
to fire a second time, and that won't be so com-
fortable for you. I've caught you, and I'm going


152 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
to hold on to you until I get that model and those
papers back."
"Oh, you are, eh?" asked the burglar calmly.
"Well, all I've got to say is that you have grit.
Go ahead. I'm caught good and proper. I was
foolish to come in here, but I thought I'd take a
chance."
"Who are you, anyhow? Who are the men
working with you to defraud my father of his
rights?" asked Tom somewhat bitterly.
"I'll never tell you," answered the burglar. "I
was hired to do certain work, and that's all there
is to it. I'm not going to peach on my pals."
"We'll see about that!" burst out Tom. Then
he noticed that a dining-room window behind
where the burglar was kneeling was open. Doubt-
less the intruder had entered that way, and in-
tended to escape in the same manner.
"I'm going to shoot," announced Tom, and,
aiming his rifle at the open window, where the
bullet would do no damage, he pressed the trig-
ger. He noticed that the burglar was crouching
low down on the floor, but Tom thought nothing
of this at the time. He imagined that Happy
Harry—or whatever his name was—might be
afraid of getting hit.
There was a flash of fire and a deafening report
as Tom fired. The cloud of smoke obscured his


TOM ON A HUNT
155
“Oh, my goodness me!" she exclaimed. "When
T heard that cannon go off I was sure the house
was coming down. How is it some one wasn't
killed ?"
"That wasn't a cannon; it was only my little
rifle," said Tom, and then he told again, for the
benefit of the housekeeper, the story of what had
happened.
"We'd better hurry and look around the prem-
ises," suggested Mr. Jackson. "Maybe he is hid-
ing, and will come back, or perhaps he has some
confederates on the watch."
"Not much danger of that," declared Tom.
"Happy Harry is far enough away from here
now, and so are his confederates, if he had any,
which I doubt. Still, it will do no harm to take
a look around."
A search resulted in nothing, however, and the
Swift household had soon settled down again,
though no one slept soundly during the remainder
of the night.
In the morning Tom sent word of what had
happened to the police of Shopton. Some officers
came out to the house, but, beyond looking wisely
at the window by which the burglar had entered
and at some footprints in the garden, they could
do nothing. Tom wanted to go off on his motor.
cycle on a tour of the surrounding neighborhood


CHAPTER XX
ERADICATE SAWS WOOD
The farmer's family, including the son who
was a deputy sheriff, was glad to see Tom. Jed
said he had "been on the job" ever since the myste-
rious robbery of Tom had taken place, but though
he had seen many red automobiles he had no
trace of the three men.
From Dunkirk Tom went back over the route
he had taken in going from Pompville to Centre-
ford, and made some inquiries in the neighbor-
hood of the church shed, where he had taken
shelter. The locality was sparsely settled, how-
ever, and no one could give any clues to the rob-
bers.
The young inventor next made a trip over the
lonely, sandy road, where he had met with the
tramp, Happy Harry. But there were even fewer
houses near that stretch than around the church,
so he got no satisfaction there. Tom spent the
night at a country inn, and resumed his search
the next morning, but with no results. The men
159


162 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
Tom lost no time in putting his plan into execu-
tion. He packed some clothes in a grip, which he
attached to the rear of his motor-cycle, and then
having said good-by to his father, started off. The
first three days he met with no success. He lo-
cated several tramps in country lock-ups, where
they had been sent for begging or loitering, but
none of them knew Happy Harry or had ever
heard of a tramp answering his description.
"He ain't one of us, youse can make up your
mind to dat," said one "hobo" whom Tom inter-
viewed. "No real knight of de highway goes
around in a disguise. We leaves dat for de story-
book detectives. I'm de real article, I am, an' I
don't know Happy Harry. But, fer dat matter,
any of us is happy enough in de summer time, if
we don't strike a burgh like dis, where dey jugs
you fer panhandlin'."
In general, Tom found the tramp willing
enough to answer his questions, though some were
sullen, and returned only surly growls to his in-
quiries.
· "I guess I'll have to give it up and go back
home," he decided one night. But there was a
small town, not many miles from Shopton, which
he had not yet visited, and he resolved to try there
before returning. Accordingly, the next morning
found him inquiring of the police authorities in


166 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
on shares, sawing up the smaller trees into cord
wood. He had started in well enough, cutting
down considerable timber, for the colored man
was a willing worker, but when he tried to start
his mill he met with trouble.
"I counted on Boomerang helpin' me," he said
to Tom. "All he has to do is walk on dat tread-
mill, an' keep goin'. Dat makes de saw go 'round,
an' I saws de wood. But de trouble am dat I
can't git Boomerang to move. I done tried ebery
means I knows on, an' he won't go. I talked
kind to him, an' I talked harsh. I done beat him
wif a club, an' I rub his ears soft laik, an' he
allers did laik dat, but he won't go. I fed him
on carrots an' I gib him sugar, an' I eben starve
him, but he won't go. Heah I been tryin' fo' three
days now t git him started, an' not a stick hab I
sawed. De man what I'm wukin' wif on shares
he git mad, an' he say ef I doan't saw wood pretty
soon he gwine t git annuder mill heah. Now I
axes yo' fair, Mistah Swift, ain't I got lots ob
trouble?"
"You certainly seem to have," agreed Tom
"But why is Boomerang so obstinate? Usually
en a treadmill a horse or a mule has to work
whether they like it or not. If they don't keep
moving the platform slides out from under them,
and they come up against the back bar."


ERADICATE GIVES A CLUE
167
"Dat's what done happened to Boomerang,"
declared Eradicate. "He done back up against de
bar, an' dere he stay."
Tom went over and looked at the mill. The
outfit was an old one, and had seen much service,
but the trained eye of the young inventor saw
that it could still be used effectively. Boomerang
watched Tom, as though aware that something
unusual was about to happen.
"Heah I done gone an' 'vested mah money in
dis yeah mill," complained Eradicate, "an' I ain't
sawed up a single stick. Ef I wasn't so kind-
hearted I'd chastise dat mule wuss dan I has,
dat's what I would."
Tom said nothing. He was stooping down,
looking at the gearing that connected the tread-
mill with the shaft which revolved the saw. Sud-
denly he uttered an exclamation.
"Rad, have you been monkeying with this ma-
chinery?" he asked.
Me? Good land, Mistah Swift, no, sah! I
wouldn't tech it. It's jest as I got it from da
man I bought it ob. It worked when he had it,
but he used a hoss. It's all due to de contrariness
ob Boomerang, an' if I- "
"No, it isn't the mule's fault at all !" exclaimed
Tom. "The mill is out of gear, and tread is
locked; that's all. The man you bought it of


168 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
probably did it so you could haul it along the
road. I'll have it fixed for you in a few minutes.
Wait until I get some tools."
From the bag on his motor-cycle Tom got his
implements. He first unlocked the treadmill, so
that the inclined platform, on which the animal
slowly walked, could revolve. No sooner had he
done this than Boomerang, feeling the slats under
his hoofs moving away, started forward. With a
rattle the treadmill slid around.
"Good land o'massy! It's goin'!" cried Eradi-
cate delightedly. "It suah am goin'!" he added
as he saw the mule, with nimble feet, send the
revolving, endless string of slats around and
around. "But de saw doan't move, Mistah Swift.
Yo' am pretty smart at fixin' it as much as yo'
has, but I reckon it's too busted teber saw any
wood. I'se got bad luck, dat's what I has."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Tom. "The sawmill
will be going in a moment. All I have to do is
to throw it into gear. See here, Rad. When
you want the saw to go you just throw this han-
dle forward. That makes the gears mesh."
"What's dat 'bout mush?" asked Eradicate.
"Mesh—not mush. I mean it makes the cogs
fit together. See," and Tom pressed the lever.
In an instant, with a musical whirr, the saw began
revolving.


ERADICATE GIVES A CLUE
169
"Hurrah! Dere it goes! Golly! see dat saw
move!" cried the delighted colored man. He
seized a stick of wood, and in a trice it was sawed
through.
"Whoop!" yelled Eradicate. "I'm sabed now!
Bless yo', Mistah Swift, yo' suttinly am a won-
dah!"
"Now I'll show you how it works," went on
Tom. "When you want to stop Boomerang, you
just pull this handle. That locks the tread, and
he can't move it," and, suiting the action to his
words, Tom stopped the mill. "Then," he went
on, "when you want him to move, you pull the
handle this way," and he showed the darky how
to do it. In a moment the mule was moving
again. Then Tom illustrated how to throw the
saw in and out of gear, and in a few minutes
the sawmill was in full operation, with a most
energetic colored man feeding in logs to be cut
up into stove lengths.
"You ought to have an assistant, Rad," said
Tom, after he had watched the work for a while.
"You could get more done then, and move on tc
some other wood-patch."
"Dat's right, Mistah Swift, so I had. But I
done tried, an' couldn't git any. I ast seberal
colored men, but dey'd radder whitewash an'
clean chicken coops. I guess I'll hab † go it


170 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
alone. I ast a white man yisterday ef he wouldn't
like t pitch in an' help, but he said he didn't like
to wuk. He was a tramp, an' he had de nerve to
ask me fer money—me, a hard-wukin' coon."
"You didn't give it to him, I hope.".
"No, indeedy, but he come so close to me dat
I was askeered he might take it from me, so I
kept hold ob a club. He suah was a bad-lookin'
tramp, an' he kept laffin" all de while, like he was
happy."
"What's that?" cried Tom, struck by the words
of the colored man. "Did he have a thick, brown
beard?"
"Dat's what he had," answered Eradicate,
pausing in the midst of his work. "He suah were
a funny sort ob tramp. His hands done looked
laik he neber wuked, an' he had a funny blue ring
one finger, only it wasn't a reg'lar ring, yo' know.
It was pushed right inter his skin, laik a man I
seen at de circus once, all cobered wid funny fig-
gers."
Tom leaped to his feet.
"Which finger was the blue ring tattooed on?"
he asked, and he waited anxiously for the answer.
"Let me see, it were on de right—no, it were
on de little finger ob de left hand."
"Are you sure, Rad?”


THE STRANGE MANSION
175
house. Very likely there is—almost any deserted
place would be attractive to them. But they may
not be the ones you seek. In fact, I hardly see
how they can be. The men who stole my model
and patent papers are wealthy. They would not
be very likely to stay in deserted houses."
"Perhaps some of the scoundrels whom they
hired might, and through them I can get on the
track of the principals."
"Well, there is something in that," admitted Mr.
Swift.
"Then may I go, dad?"
"I suppose so. We must leave nothing un-
tried to get back the stolen model and papers.
But I don't want you to run any risks. If you
would only take some one with you. There's your
chum, Ned Newton. Perhaps he would go."
"No, I'd rather work it alone, dad. I'll be
careful. Besides, Ned could not get away from
the bank. I may have to be gone a week, and
he has no motor-cycle. I can manage all right."
Tom was off bright and early. He had care-
fully laid his plans, and had decided that he would
not go direct to Pineford, which was the nearest
village to the old Harkness mansion.
"If those fellows are in hiding they will proba-
bly keep watch on who comes to the village,"
thought Tom. "The arrival of some one on a


THE STRANGE MANSION
177
repaired he discovered something wrong with his
batteries. He had to go five miles out of his way
to get new cells, and it was dusk when he came
to the stretch of woods which he knew lay be-
tween him and the old mansion.
"I don't fancy starting in there at night," said
Tom to himself. "Guess I'd better stay some-
where around here until morning, and then ven-
ture in. But the question is where to stay?”.
The country was deserted, and for a mile or
more he had seen no houses. He kept on for some
distance farther, the dusk falling rapidly, and
when he was about to turn back to retrace his way
to the last farmhouse he had passed, he saw a
slab shanty at the side of the road.
"That's better than nothing, provided they'll
take me in for the night," murmured Tom. "I'm
going to ask, anyhow.".
He found the shanty to be inhabited by an old
man who made a living burning charcoal. The
place was not very attractive, but Tom did not
mind that, and finding the charcoal-burner a kind-
ly old fellow, soon made a bargain with him to
remain all night.
Tom slept soundly, in spite of his strange sur-
roundings, and after a simple breakfast in the
morning inquired of the old man the best way
of penetrating the forest.


178 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
“You'd best strike right along the old wood
road," said the charcoal-burner. "That leads
right to the lake, and I think will take you where
you want to go. The old mansion is not far from
he lake shore."
"Near the lake, eh?" mused Tom as he started
off, after thanking the old fellow. "Now I won-
der if I'd better try to get to it from the water
or the land side?"
He found it impossible to ride fast on the old
wood road, and when he judged he was so close
to the lake that the noise of his motor-cycle might
be heard, he shut off the power, and walked along,
pushing it. It was hard traveling, and he felt
weary, but he kept on, and about noon was re-
warded by a sight of something glittering through
the trees.
"That's the lake!" Tom exclaimed, half aloud.
"I'm almost there."
A little later, having hidden his motor-cycle
in a clump of bushes, he made his way through
the underbrush and stood on the shore of Lake
Carlopa. Cautiously Tom looked about him. It
was getting well on in the afternoon, and the
sun was striking across the broad sheet of water.
Tom glanced up along the shore. Something
amid a clump of trees caught his eyes. It was the
chimney of a house. The young inventor walked


THE STRANGE MANSION
179
a little distance along the lake shore. Suddenly
he saw, looming up in the forest, a large build-
ing. It needed but a glance to show that it was
falling into ruins, and had no signs of life about
it. Nor, for that matter, was there any life in
the forest around him. or on the lake that stretched
out before him.
"I wonder if that can be the place?" whispered
Tom, for, somehow, the silence of the place was
getting on his nerves. "It must be it," he went
on. "It's just as Rad described it."
He stood looking at it, the sun striking full on
the mysterious mansion, hidden there amid the
trees. Suddenly, as Tom looked, he heard the
"put-put" of a motor-boat. He turned to one
side, and saw, putting out from a little dock that
he had not noticed before, a small craft. It con-
tained one man, and no sooner had the young
inventor caught a glimpse of him than he cried
out:
"That's the man who jumped over our fence
and escaped !"
Then, before the occupant of the boat could
catch sight of him, Tom turned and fled back into
the bushes, out of view.


CHAPTER XXIII
TOM IS PURSUED
Tom was so excited that he hardly knew what
to do. His first thought was to keep out of sight
of the man in the boat, for the young inventor did
not want the criminals to suspect that he was on
their trail. To that end he ran back until he knew
he could not be seen from the lake. There he
paused and peered through the bushes. He caught
a glimpse of the man in the motor-boat. The
craft was making fast time across the water.
"He didn't see me," murmured Tom. "Lucky
I saw him first. Now what had I better do ?"
It was a hard question to answer. If he
only had some one with whom to consult he
would have felt better, but he knew he had to
rely on himself. Tom was a resourceful lad, and
he had often before been obliged to depend on his
wits. But this time very much was at stake, and
a false move might ruin everything.
"This is certainly the house," went on Tom,
180


TOM IS PURSUED
181
"and that man in the boat is one of the fellows
who helped rob me. Now the next thing to do is
to find out if the others of the gang are in the
old mansion, and, if they are, to see if dad's model
and papers are there. Then the next thing to
do will be to get our things away, and I fancy I'll
have no easy job."
Well might Tom think this, for the men with
whom he had to deal were desperate characters,
who had already dared much to accomplish their
ends, and who would do more before they would
suffer defeat. Still, they under-estimated the pluck
of the lad who was pitted against them.
"I might as well proceed on a certain plan, and
have some system about this affair," reasoned the
lad. "Dad is a great believer in system, so I'll
lay out a plan and see how nearly I can follow it.
Let's see what is the first thing to do?"
Tom considered a moment, going over the
whole situation in his mind. Then he went on,
talking to himself alone there in the woods :
"It seems to me the first thing to do is to find
out if the men are in the house. To do that I've
got to get closer and look in through a window.
Now, how to get closer ?”.
He considered that problem from all sides.
"It will hardly do to approach from the lake
shore," he reasoned, "for if they have a motor-


182 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTORCYCLE
boat and a dock, there must be a path from the
house to the water. If there is a path people are
likely to walk up or down it at any minute. The
man in the boat might come back unexpectedly
and catch me. No, I can't risk approaching from
the lake shore. I've got to work my way up to
the house by going through the woods. That
much is settled. Now to approach the house, and
when ! get within seeing distance I'll settle the
next point. One thing at a time is a good rule,
as dad used to say. Poor dad! I do hope I can
get his model and papers back for him."
Tom, who had been sitting on a log under a
bush, staring at the lake, arose. He was feeling
rather weak and faint, and was at a loss to ac-
count for it, until he remembered that he had had
no dinner.
"And I'm not likely to get any," he remarked.
"I'm not going to eat until I see who's in that
house. Maybe I won't then, and where supper is
coming from I don't know. But this is too im-
portant to be considered in the same breath with
a ineal. Here goes."
Cautiously Tom made his way forward, taking
care not to make too much disturbance in the
bushes. He had been on hunting trips, and knew
the value of silence in the woods. He had no
paths to ' llow, but he had noted the position of


184 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
dently did not suspect the presence of a stranger,
for, though he cast sharp glances into the tangled
undergrowth that fringed the house like a hedge,
he did not seek to investigate further. He walked
slowly on, making a circuit of the grounds. Tom
remained hidden for several minutes, and was
about to proceed again, when the man reappeared.
Then Tom saw the reason for it.
"He's on guard !" the lad said to himself. "He's
doing sentry duty. I can't approach the house
when he's there."
For an instant Tom felt a bitter disappoint-
ment. He had hoped to be able to carry out his
plan as he had mapped it. Now he would have
to make a change.
"I'll have to wait until night," he thought.
"Then I can sneak up and look in. The guard
won't see me after dark. But it's going to be
no fun to stay here, without anything to eat.
Still, I've got to do it."
He remained where he was in the bushes. Sev-
eral times, before the sun set, the man doing sen-
try duty made the circuit of the house, and Tom
noted that occasionally he was gone for a long
period. He reasoned that the man had gone into
the mansion to confer with his confederates.
"If I only knew what was going on in there,"
thought Tom. "Maybe, after all, the men haven't


TOM IS PURSUED
185
got the model and papers here. Yet, if they
haven't, why are they staying in the old house?
I must get a look in and see what's going on.
Lucky there are no shades to the windows, I
wish it would get dark."
It seemed that the sun would never go down
and give place to dusk, but finally Tom, crouching
in his hiding place, saw the shadows grow longer
and longer, and finally the twilight of the woods
gave place to a density that was hard to penetrate.
Tom waited some time to see if the guard kept up
the circuit, but with the approach of night the
man seemed to have gone into the house. Tom
saw a light gleam out from the lonely mansion.
It came from a window on the ground floor.
"There's my chance !" exclaimed the lad, and,
crawling from his hiding place, he advanced cau-
tiously toward it.
Tom went forward only a few feet at a time,
pausing almost every other step to listen. He
heard no sounds, and was reassured. Nearer and
nearer he came to the old house. The gleam of
the light fell upon his face, and fearful that some
one might be looking from the window, he shifted
his course, so as to come up from one side. Slow-
ly, very slowly he advanced, until he was right
under the window. Then he found that it was


186 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
too high up to admit of his looking in. He felt
about until he had a stone to stand on.
Softly he drew himself up inch by inch. He
could hear the murmur of voices in the room.
Now the top of his head was on a level with the
sill. A few more inches and his eyes could take
in the room and the occupants. He was scarcely
breathing. Up, up he raised himself until he
could look into the apartment, and the sight which
met his eyes nearly caused him to lose his hold
and topple backward.
For grouped around a table in a big room were
the three men whom he had seen in the automo-
bile. But what attracted his attention more than
the sight of the men was an object on the table.
It was the stolen model! The men were inspect-
ing it, and operating it, as he could see. One of
the trio had a bundle of papers in his hand, and
Tom was sure they were the ones stolen from
him. But there could be no doubt about the model
of the turbine motor. There it was in plain sight.
He had tracked the thieves to their hiding place.
Then, as he watched, Tom saw one of the men
produce from under the table a box, into which
the model was placed. The papers were next put
in, and a cover was nailed on. Then the men
appeared to consult among themselves.
By their gestures Tom concluded that they


UNEXPECTED HELP
189
Tom listened. The only sound he could hear
was the trill and chirp of the insects of the woods.
The pursuit, which had lasted only a few minutes,
was over. But it might be resumed at any mo
ment. Tom was not safe yet, he thought, and
he kept on.
"I wonder where I am? I wonder where my
motor-cycle is? I wonder what I had better do ?"
he asked himself.
Three big questions, and no way of settling
them. Tom pulled himself up sharply.
"I've got to think this thing out," he resumed,
"They can't find me in these woods to-night, that's
sure, unless they get dogs, and they're not likely
to do that. So I'm safe that far. But that's about
all that is in my favor. I won't dare to go back
to the house, even if I could find it in this black-
ness, which is doubtful. It wouldn't be safe, for
they'll be on guard .w. It looks as though I
was up against it. I'm afraid they may imagine
the police are after them, and go away. If they
do, and take the model and papers with them, I'll
have an awful job to locate them again, and proba-
bly I won't be able to. That's the worst of it.
Here I have everything right under my hands,
and I can't do a thing. If I only had some one
to help me; some one to leave on guard while I
went for the police I'm one against three—no,


ICO TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
four, for the man in the boat is back. Let's see;
what can I do?"
Then a sudden plan came to him.
"The lake shore !" he exclaimed, half aloud.
I'll go down there and keep watch. If they es-
cape they'll probably go in the boat, for they
wouldn't venture through the woods at night.
That's it. I'll watch on shore, and if they do
leave in the boat— " He paused again, unde-
cided. "Why, if they do," he finished, "I'll sing
out, and make such a row that they'll think the
whole countryside is after them. That may drive
them back, or they may drop the box containing
the papers and model, and cut for it. If they do
I'll be all right. I don't care about capturing them,
if I can get dad's model back."
He felt more like himself, now that he had
mapped out another plan.
"The first thing to do is to locate the lake," rea-
soned Tom. "Let's see; I ran in a straight line
avray from the house--that is, as nearly straight
as a could. Now if ! turn around and go straight
back, bearing off a little to the left, I ought to
come to the water. I'll do it."
But it was not so easy as Tom imagined, and
several times he found himself in the midst of
almost impenetrable bushes. He kept on, how-
ever, and soon had the satisfaction of emerging


UNEXPECTED HELP
193
"I've got to go back to where I left my motor-
cycle, jump on that, and ride for aid," he reasoned.
"Maybe I can get the charcoal-burner to go for
me, while I come back and stand guard. I guess
that would be the best plan. I certainly ought to
be on hand, for there is no telling when these fel-
lows will skip out with the model, if they haven't
gone already. I hate to leave, yet I've got to.
It's the only way. I wish I'd done as dad sug-
gested, and brought help. But it's too late for
that. Well, I'm off."
Tom took a last look at the motor-boat, which
was a fine one. He wished it was his. Then he
struck through the woods. He had his bearings
now, and was soon at the place where he had left
his machine. It had not been disturbed. He
caught a glimpse of the old mansion on his way
out of the woods. There appeared to be no one
stirring about it.
"I hope my birds haven't flown!" he exclaimed,
and the thought gave him such uneasiness that
he put it from him. Pushing his heavy machine
ahead of him until he came to a good road, he
mounted it, and was soon at the charcoal-burner's
shack. There came no answer to his knock, and
Tom pushed open the door. The old man was
not in. Tom could not send him for help.
"My luck seems to be against me!" he mur-


UNEXPECTED HELP
195
to be off, I must be held up by such a brute as that
outside. Wonder how long he'll keep me a pris-
oner "
Tom went to a window and peered out. No
person had appeared and the lad rightly surmised
that the bulldog had come to the cottage alone.
The beast appeared to be hungry, and this gave
Tom a sudden idea.
"Maybe if I feed him, he'll forget that I am
around and give me a chance to get away," he
reasoned. "Guess I had better try that dodge on
him."
Tom looked around the cottage and at last
found the remains of a chicken dinner the owner
had left behind. He picked up some of the bones
and called the bulldog. The animal came up
rather suspiciously. Tom threw him one bone,
which he proceeded to crunch up vigorously.
"He's hungry right enough," mused Tom. "I
guess he'd like to sample my leg. But he's not
going to do it—not if I can help it."
At the back of the cottage was a little shed, the
door to which stood open. Tom threw a bone near
to the door of this shed and then managed to
throw another bone inside the place. The bulldog
found the first bone and then disappeared after the
second.
"Now is my time, I guess," the young inventor


196 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
told himself, and watching his chance, he ran from
the cottage toward his motor-cycle. He made no
noise and quickly shoved the machine into the
roadway. Just as he turned on the power the
bulldog came out of the shed, barking furiously.
"You've missed it !" said Tom grimly as the
machine started, and quickly the cottage and the
bulldog were left behind. The road was rough
for a short distance and he had to pay strict atten-
tion to what he was doing.
"I've got to ride to the nearest village," he said.
"It's a long distance, and, in the meanwhile, the
men may escape. But I can't do anything else.
I dare not tackle them alone, and there is no tell-
ing when the charcoal-burner may come back.
I've got to make speed, that's all."
Out on the main road the lad sent his machine
ahead at a fast pace. He was fairly humming
along when, suddenly, from around a curve in
the highway he heard the "honk-honk" of an au-
tomobile horn. For an instant his heart failed
him.
"I wonder if those are the thieves ? Maybe
they have left the house, and are in their auto !"
he whispered as he slowed down his machine.
The automobile appeared to have halted. As
Tom came nearer the turn he heard voices. At
the sound of one he started. The voice exclaimed:


CHAPTER XXV
THE CAPTURE—GOOD-BY
Tom's story was soon told, and Mr. Damon
quickly explained to his friends in the automobile
how he had first made the acquaintance of the
young inventor.
"But how does it happen that you are trusting
yourself in a car like this?" asked Tom. "I
thought you were done with gasolene machines,
Mr. Damon."
"I thought so, too, Tom, but, bless my bat-
teries, my doctor insisted that I must get out in
the open air. I'm too stout to walk, and I can't
run. The only solution was in an automobile,
for I never would dream of a motor-cycle. I
wonder that one of mine hasn't run away with
you and killed you. But there! My automobile
is nearly as bad. We went along very nicely
yesterday, and now, just when I have a party of
friends out, something goes wrong. Bless my
liver! I do seem to have the worst luck!"
198


200 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
self, an example followed by those who had no
firearms.
"A club for mine!" exclaimed Mr. Damon.
"The less I have to do with machinery the better
I like it. Now, Tom Swift is just the other way
around," he explained to his friends.
Cautiously they approached the house, and
when within seeing distance of it they paused for
a consultation. There seemed to be no one stirring
about the old mansion, and Tom was fearful lest
the men had left. But this could not be deter-
mined until they came closer. Two of Mr.
Damon's friends elected to go down to the shore
of the lake and prevent any escape in that direc-
tion, while the others, including Tom, were to
approach from the wood side. When the two
who were to form the water attacking party were
ready, one of them was to fire his revolver as a
signal. Then Tom, Mr. Damon and the others
would rush in.
The young inventor, Mr. Damon, and his
friend, whom he addressed as Mr. Benson, went
as close to the house as they considered prudent.
Then, screening themselves in the bushes, they
waited. They conversed in whispers, Tom giving
more details of his experience with the patent
thieves.


THE CAPTURE-GOOD-BY!
201
Suddenly the silence of the woods was broken
by some one advancing through the underbrush.
"Bless my gaiters, some one is coming !" ex-
claimed Mr. Damon in a hoarse whisper. "Can
that be Munson or Dwight coming back?" He
referred to his two friends who had gone to the
lake.
"Or perhaps the fellows are escaping," sug-
gested Mr. Benson. "Suppose we take a look."
At that moment the person approaching, who-
ever he was, began to sing. Tom started.
"I'll wager that's Happy Harry, the tramp!"
he exclaimed. "I know his voice."
Cautiously Tom peered over the screen of
bushes.
"Who is it?" asked Mr. Damon.
"It's Happy Harry!" said Tom. "We'll get
them all, now. He's going up to the house."
They watched the tramp. All unconscious of
the eyes of the men and boy in the bushes, he kept
on. Presently the door of the house opened, and
a man came out. Tom recognized him as Anson
Morse—the person who had dropped the tele-
gram.
"Say, Burke," called the man at the door, "have
you taken the motor-boat?"
"Motor-boat? No," answered the tramp. "I
just came here. I've had a hard time—nearly got


202 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
.
.
caught in Swift's house the other night by that
cub of a boy. Is the boat gone?"
"Yes. Appleson came back in it last night and
saw some one looking in the window, but we
thought it was only a farmer and chased him
away. This morning the boat's gone. I thought
maybe you had taken it for a joke."
"Not a bit of it! Something's wrong !" ex-
claimed Happy Harry. "We'd better light out.
I think the police are after us. That young Swift
is too sharp for my liking. We'd better skip. I
don't believe that was a farmer who looked in the
window. Tell the others, get the stuff, and we'll
leave this locality."
"They're here still," whispered Tom. "That's
good !"
"I wonder if Munson and Dwight are at the
lake yet?" asked Mr. Damon. "They ought to
be
At that instant a pistol shot rang out. The
tramp, after a hasty glance around, started on
the run for the house. The man in the doorway
sprang out. Soon two others joined him.
"Who fired that shot?" cried Morse.
"Come on, Tom!" cried Mr. Damon, grabbing
up his club and springing from the bushes. "Our
friends have arrived !" The young inventor and
Mr. Benson followed him.


THE CAPTURE-GOOD-BY!
202
No sooner had they come into the open space
in front of the house than they were seen. At the
same instant, from the rear, in the direction of
the lake, came Mr. Munson and Mr. Dwight.
"We're caught!" cried Happy Harry.
He made a dash for the house, just as a man
carrying a box, rushed out.
"There it is! The model and papers are in that
box!" cried Tom. "Don't let them get away with
it !"
The criminals were taken by surprise. With
leveled weapons the attacking party closed in on
them. Mr. Damon raised his club threateningly.
"SurrenderI Surrender!" he cried. "We have
you! Bless my stars, but you're captured! Sur-
render !"
"It certainly looks so," admitted Anson Morse.
"I guess they have us, boys."
The man with the box made a sudden dash to-
ward the woods, but Tom was watching him. Ir.
an instant he sprang at him, and landed on the
fellow's back. The two went down in a heap
, and when Tom arose he had possession of the
precious box.
"I have it! I have it!" he cried, "I've got
dad's model back!"
The man who had had possession of the box


204 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
quickly arose, and, before any one could stop him,
darted into the bushes.
"After him! Catch him! Bless my hat-band,
stop him!" shouted Mr. Damon.
Instinctively his friends turned to pursue the
fugitive, forgetting, for the instant, the other
criminals. The men were quick to take advantage
of this, and in a moment had disappeared in the
dense woods. Nor could any trace be found of
the one with whom Tom had struggled.
"Pshaw! They got away from us !" cried Mr.
Damon regretfully. "Let's see if we can't catch
them. Come on, we'll organize a posse and run
them down." He was eager for the chase, but
his companions dissuaded him. Tom had what
he wanted, and he knew that his father would
prefer not to prosecute the men. The lad opened
the box, and saw that the model and papers were
safe.
"Let those fellows go," advised the young in-
ventor, and Mr. Damon reluctantly agreed to this.
"I guess we've seen the last of them," added the
youth, but he and Mr. Swift had not, for the
criminals made further trouble, which will be
told of in the second volume of this series, to be
called "Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat; or, The
Rivals of Lake Carlopa." In that our hero will
be met in adventures even more thrilling than


THE MOTION PICTURE
CHUMS SERIES
By VICTOR APPLETON
12mo. BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLOSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING.
In these stories we follow the adventures of three boys,
who, after purchasing at auction the contents of a moving
picture house, open a theatre of their own. Their many
trials and tribulations, leading up to the final success of
their venture, make very entertaining stories.
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS' FIRST VENTURE
Or Opening a Photo Playhouse in Fairlands.
The adventures of Frank, Randy and Pep in running a Motion
Picture show. They had trials and tribulations but finally succeed.
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK
Of The Rival Photo Theatres of the Boardwalk.
Their success at Fairlands encourages the boys to open their
show at Seaside Park, where they have exciting adventures also a
profitable season,
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS ON BROADWAY
Or The Mystery of the Missing Cash Box.
Backed by a rich western friend the chums established a photo
playhouse in the great metropolis, where new adventures await them.
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS' OUTDOOR EXHIBI.
TION
Or The Film that Solved a Mystery.
This time the playhouse was in a big summer park. How ā film
that was shown gave a clew to an important mystery is intereste
ingly related.
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS NEW IDEA
Or The First Educational Photo Playhouse.
In this book the scene is shifted to Boston, and there is intenso
rivalry in the establishment of photo playhouses of educational value.
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS AT THE FAIR
Or The Greatest Film Ever Exhibited.
The chums go to San Francisco, where they have samo trials
but finally meet with great success.
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS' WAR SPECTACLE
Or The Film that Won the Prize.
Through being of service to the writer of a great scoparto,
the chums are enabled to produce it and win a prize.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, New YORK


THE TOM SWIFT SERIES
By VICTOR APPLETON
12mo. CLOTH. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. COLORED WRAPPERS,
These spirited tales convey in a realistic way the wonderful ad.
vances in land and sea locomotion. Stories like these are impresso
upon the memory and their reading is productive only of good.
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE
Or Fun and Adventure on the Road
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT
Or The Rivals of Lake Carlopa
TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP
Or The Stirring Cruise of the Red Cloud
TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT
Or Under the Ocean for Sunken Treasure
TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT
Or The Speediest Car on the Road
TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE
Or The Castaways of Earthquake Island
TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS
Or The Secret of Phantom Mountain
TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE
Or The Wreck of the Airship
TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER
Or The Quickest Flight on Record
TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE
Or Daring Adventures in Elephant Land
TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD
Or Marvellous Advent’ires Underground
TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER
Or Seeking the Platinum Treasure
TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY
Or A Daring Escape by Airship
TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA
Or The Ferils of Moving Picture Taking
TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT
Or On the Border for Uncle Sam.
TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON
Or The Longest Shots on Record
TOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONE
Or The Picture that Saved a Fortune
TOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIP
Or The Naval Terror of the Seas
TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL
Or The Hidden City of the Andes
GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS New Y. RX


THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS
SERIES
By VICTOR APPLETON
12mo. BOUND IN CLOTH.
ILLUSTRATED.
UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING.
Moving pictures and photo plays are famous the world
over, and in this line of books the reader is given a full
description of how the films are made the scenes of little
dramas, indoors and out, trick pictures to satisfy the curious,
soul-stirring pictures of city affairs, life in the Wild West,
among the cowboys and Indians, thrilling rescues along the
seacoast, the daring of picture hunters in the jungle among
savage beasts, and the great risks run in picturing conditions
in a land of earthquakes. The volumes teen with adven-
tures and will be found interesting from first chapter to last.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS
Or Perils of a Great City Depicted.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE WEST
Or Taking Scenes Among the Cowboys and Indians.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COAST
Or Showing the Perils of the Deep.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE
Or Stirring Times Among the Wild Animals.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN EARTHQUAKE
Dr Working Amid Many Perils.
LAND
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AND THE FLOOD
Or Perilous Days on the Mississippi.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA
Dr Stirring Adventures Along the Great Canal.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS UNDER THE SEA
Or The Treasure of the Lost Ship.
GROSSET & DUNLAP,
PUBLISHERS,
NEW YORK


THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES
By LAURA LEE HOPE
Author of the Popular "Bobbsey Twins' Books
Wrapper and text illustrations drawn by
FLORENCE ENGLAND NOSWORTHY
12mo. BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED.
UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING.
This new series by the author of the "Bobbsey Twins"
Books will be eagerly welcomed by the little folks from about
five to ten years of age. Their eyes will fairly dance with de-
light at the lively doings of inquisitive little Bunny Brown and
his cunning, trustful sister Sue.
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE
Bunny was a lively little boy, very inquisitive. When he did any.
thing, Sué followed his leadership. They had many adventures, some
comical in the extreme.
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON GRAND-
PA'S FARM
How the youngsters journeyed to the farm in an auto, and what
good times followed, is realistically told.
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE PLAYING
CIRCUS
First the children gave a little affair, but when they obtained an
old army tent the show was truly grand.
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CAMP
REST-A-WHILE
The family go into camp on the edge of a beautiful lake, and Bun
ny and his sister have more good times and some adventures.
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT AUNT
LU'S CITY HOME
The city proved a wonderful place to the little folks. They took in
all the sights and helped a colored girl who had run away from home.
GROSSET & DUNLAP,
PUBLISHERS,
NEW YORK


THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES
By LAURA LEE HOPE
Author of the “Bobbsey Twin Books” and “Buriny Brown"
Series.
12mo. BOUND IN CLOTH.
ILLUSTRATED.
UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING.
These tales take in the various adventures participated in
by several bright, up-to-date girls who love outdoor life.
They are clean and wholesome, free from sensationalism,
absorbing from the first chapter to the last.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE
Or Camping and Tramping for Fun and Health.
Telling how the girls organized their Camping and Tramping Club,
how they went on a tour, and of various adventures which befell them.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE
Or Stirring Cruise of the Motor Boat Gem.
One of the girls becomes the proud possessor of a motor boat and
invites her club members to take a trip down the river to Rain.
bow Lake, a beautiful sheet of water lying between the mountains.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAR
Or The Haunted Mansion of Shadow Valley.
One of the girls has learned to run a big motor car, and she invites
the club to go on a tour to visit some distant relatives. On the way
they stop at a deserted mansion and make a surprising discovery.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMP
Or Glorious Days on Skates and Ice Boats.
In this story. the scene is shifted to a winter season. The girls
have some jolly times skating and ice boating, and visit a hunters
camp in the big woods.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDA.
Or Wintering in the Sunny South.
The parents of one of the girls have bought an orange grove in ;
Florida, and her companions are invited to visit the place. They take )
a trip into the interior, where several unusual things happen.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT OCEAN VIEW
Or The Box that Was Found in the Sand.
The girls have great fun and solve a mystery while on an outing
along the New England coast.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON PINE ISLAND
Or A Cave and What it Contained.
A bright, healthful story, full of good times at a bungalow camp
on Pine Island.
GROSSET & DUNLAP,
PUBLISHERS,
NEW YORK


11
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