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"Tell him I'll bring him here by plane tomorrow. We can talk things over and start for Florida from here."
"He'll go," said Mr. Swift a few minutes later, turning away from the telephone with a smile. "Said he'll be tickled to get back in harness."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "He'll Go," Said Mr. Swift]
"Thanks a million, Dad! You've saved the day!"
The following morning the boys hurried out to the Swift private airport to oversee the fueling of the huge plane Tom had decided to take. At first he had thought of making the trip in his small two-seated racer, since it was the fastest craft in the hangar. Realizing, however, that Captain Britten might want to bring along considerable baggage, the young inventor had told Ned he felt it best to go in his flying boat.
[Ill.u.s.tration: They Fueled the Huge Plane]
The "Winged Arrow," in which Tom once had made a memorable rescue flight to Iceland, was equipped now with a retractable landing gear as well as with pontoons, enabling the craft to descend on both land and water.
Suddenly Tom became very excited as he looked at the hydroplane.
"Look, Ned!" he cried. "Can you beat that!"
[Ill.u.s.tration: "Look, Ned," Tom Cried]
CHAPTER V
IN PERIL
Upon inspection, it was found that three half-inch holes had been drilled into each pontoon. It was evident that only an enemy of Tom or of the Swift Company could have done such a thing.
"Ned, that proves it!" declared the young inventor gloomily.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Three Holes in Each Pontoon]
"Proves what?" Ned asked.
"Can't you see? It all ties in with Mr. Damon's so-called relatives, and their knowledge of my formula for a bendable gla.s.s. Someone in our shops is a traitor--or worse!"
"But what has a damaged hydroplane to do with that?" objected Ned.
"If we had landed on water with these damaged pontoons, we'd have drowned most likely," replied Tom. "That would have suited the villains who want my formula, and no one would have been the wiser as to what caused the accident."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "We'd Have Been Drowned!"]
"Admitting you're right, the thing's a pretty serious mess," said Ned.
"But of course crooked people will go to long lengths for money, and if your formula is a good one, it certainly will bring a lot of money to someone or something."
"And that something is going to be the Swift Company!" declared Tom.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "It's a Pretty Serious Mess."]
"Since we can't take off in the hydroplane today," said Ned, "let's go back to the office. I suppose it'll require some time to patch up those holes."
Tom immediately sent for one of his skilled mechanics, a man whom he knew to be trustworthy. He set the fellow to work welding patches over the holes. After cautioning his employee to maintain strict silence, he and Ned drove away.
[Ill.u.s.tration: He Welded Patches Over the Holes]
"Don't say anything to Dad about this," warned Tom as the two left the field. "It would only worry him and could do no good. You and I must work out this mess by ourselves."
After dinner that evening Tom went to his private laboratory to check the thermostat controlling the temperature of the annealing oven in which his batch of new gla.s.s was being slowly cooled. Then he spent some time at his desk over certain intricate formulas. The room was in semi-darkness, lighted only by a shaded reading lamp.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Tom Checked the Thermostat]
"Well, that's that," yawned the young inventor at length, locking up his desk. "Guess I'd better put the valuable disk back in the vault before I go home," he decided, switching on the ceiling lights and glancing toward the corner where Koku had placed the telescope.
With a start he saw that his invention was gone!
[Ill.u.s.tration: His Invention Was Gone]
Quickly examining the instrument, he found that the green disk had been jerked roughly from its clamps by someone who evidently had been in too great a hurry to bother uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the bolts which had held it in place.
"Ho!" suddenly boomed a deep voice. Tom became aware of a commotion outside the laboratory. "You no get 'way fum me! How you like 'nother knock on top head?"
"Don't hit me again!" whined someone. "I won't try to escape!"
Tom flung open the door and saw his giant servant dragging a man up the steps. A feeling of tremendous relief swept over young Swift as he discovered his precious green disk in Koku's left hand.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Koku Was Dragging a Man]
"Ha, Master Tom! Catchum bad mans tryin' to sneak through gate! See green thing stick out of pocket and grabb.u.m--bringum here. Want me hittum again?"
"Please don't let him hurt me, Mr. Swift," snivelled the man. "He hit me an awful blow back there."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "Want Me Hittum Again?"]
"You had it coming to you," retorted Tom sternly. "Besides, you're not hurt very much. Koku, bring him in here. You certainly did a good piece of work when you nabbed this fellow. Take him into the office and we'll have a word or two with him before I call the police."
"I ain't talkin'," muttered the man, shifting uncomfortably and looking rather uneasily at the giant. "You ain't got nothin' on me. I just found that chunk of green gla.s.s in the field."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "You Ain't Got Nothin' on Me."]
"Don't lie to me, unless you want to be mussed up some more," said Tom grimly, glancing at Koku. "I think I'll just take a look through your pockets. Perhaps you found a few other little things when you broke in here."
Under the menacing eye of the giant, the man submitted sullenly to the search. There was nothing in his clothes to identify him. Apparently he had stolen nothing else from the laboratory. He refused to answer any questions, however. Tom gave up and summoned the police by telephone.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Tom Searched the Man]
"O Master, here other thing in man's pocket!" exclaimed Koku, after the thief had been carted away to jail. "It stuck to round green thing when I yank away from um." He handed Tom a bit of pasteboard from which the lower third had been torn.
"It's a business card of the Apex Gla.s.s Works with the representative's name ripped off!" exclaimed young Swift aloud. Then to himself he added, "I wonder? Maybe Ned was right after all and they ARE after my formula for bendable gla.s.s!"