Tom Swift and his Great Searchlight
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Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift and his Great Searchlight
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They stood for a few minutes watching the old mansion, and then went
on. As they passed down a lane, to take a short cut, they approached
a small house, that, in times past, had been occupied by the
gardener of the Foger estate. Now, that too, was closed. But, in
front of it stood a wagon with a big canvass cover over it, and, as
the lads came nearer, the wagon drove off quickly, and in silence.
At the same time a door in the gardener's house was heard to shut
softly.
"Did you see that?" cried Ned.
"Yes, and did you hear that?" asked Tom.
"They're carting stuff away from the old gardener's house," went on
Ned. "Maybe it's there that the smugglers are working from! Let's
hurry to see Mr. Whitford."
"Hold on!" exclaimed Tom in a whisper. "I've got one suggestion.
Ned. Let's tell all we know, and what we think may be the case, but
don't make any rash statements. We might be held responsible. Tell
what we have seen, and let the government men do the rest."
"All right. I'm willing."
They watched the wagon as it passed on out of sight in the darkness,
and then hurried on to see Mr. Whitford. To say that the custom
officer was astonished at what the boys related to him, is putting
it mildly. He was much excited.
"I think we're on the right trail!" he exclaimed. "You may have done
a big service for Uncle Sam. Come on!"
"Where?" the boys asked him.
"We'll make a raid on the old Foger home, and on the gardener's
house at once. We may catch the rascals red-handed. You can have the
honor of representing Uncle Sam. I'll make you assistant deputies
for the night. Here are some extra badges I always carry," and he
pinned one each on the two young men.
Mr. Whitford quietly summoned several of his men to his hotel room,
and imparted to them what he had learned. They were eager for the
raid, and it was decided to go to the Foger home, and the other
house at once, first seeking to gain an entrance to the mansion.
Accompanied by Tom and Ned, Mr. Whitford left the hotel. There were
few persons about, and no attention was attracted. The other agents
left the hotel one by one, and in the darkness gathered about the
seemingly deserted mansion.
"Stand ready now, men," whispered Mr. Whitford. "Tom, Ned and I will
go up the steps first, and knock. If they don't let us in I'm going
to smash the door. Then you follow."
Rather excited by what was about to take place, the two chums
accompanied the chief custom agent. He rapped loudly on the door of
the house, where only darkness showed.
There was a moment of silence, and then a voice which Tom and Ned
recognized as that of Andy Foger, asked:
"What do you want?"
"We want to come in," replied Mr. Whitford.
"But who are you?"
"Uncle Sam's officers, from the custom house."
Tom distinctly heard a gasp of surprise on the other side of the
portal, and then a bolt was drawn. The door was thrown back, and
there, confronting the two lads and Mr. Whitford, were Andy Foger
and his father.
CHAPTER VI
THE APPEAL TO TOM
"Well, what does this mean?" asked Mr. Foger in indignant tones, as
he faced the custom officer and Tom and Ned. "What do you mean by
coming to my house at this hour, and disturbing me? I demand an
answer!"
"And you shall have it," replied Mr. Whitford calmly. He was used to
dealing with "indignant" persons, who got very much on their dignity
when accused of smuggling. "We are here, Mr. Foger, because of
certain information we have received, and we must ask you to submit
to some questions, and allow your house to be searched."
"What! You question me? Search this house? That is an indignity to
which I will not submit!"
"You will have to, Mr. Foger. I have ample authority for what I am
doing, and I am backed by the most powerful government in the world.
I also have plenty of help with me."
Mr. Whitford blew his whistle, and at once his several deputies came
running up.
"You see I am well prepared to meet force with force, Mr. Foger,"
said the chief agent, calmly.
"Force! What do you mean, sir?"
"I mean that I have certain information against you. There has been
smuggling going on from Canada into the United States."
"Canada? What have I to do with Canada?"
"You don't live far from there," said Mr. Whitford significantly.
"Airships have been used. Your son has one, but I don't believe that
figured in the game. But two friends of mine saw something to-night
that made me decide on this raid. Tom and Ned, tell Mr. Foger what
you saw."
The agent stepped back, so that the two lads could be seen. There
was another gasp of surprise, this time from Andy Foger, who had
remained in the background.
"Tom Swift!" gasped the bully.
"Tell them what you saw. Tom," went on the agent, and Tom and Ned by
turns, relayed the incident of the wagon load of goods driving away
from the gardener's house.
"This, with what has gone before, made us suspicious," said Mr.
Whitford. "So we decided on a raid. If you are not willing to let us
in peaceably, we will come by force."
"By all means come in!" was the unexpected reply of Mr. Foger, as he
stepped back, and opened wider the door. "Andy, these are some
friends of yours, are they not?"
"Friends? I guess not!" exclaimed Andy with a sneer. "I won't even
speak to them."
"Not much lost," commented Tom with a laugh.
"Search the house!" ordered Mr. Whitford sharply.
"I'll show you around," offered Mr. Foger.
"We can find our way," was the curt rejoinder of the chief agent.
"The place is deserted," went on Mr. Foger. "My son and I are just
living here until certain repairs are made, when I am going to make
another effort to sell it."
"Yes, we knew it was being repaired, and that your son was staying
here," said Mr. Whitford, "But we did not expect to see you."
"I--er--that is--I came on unexpectedly," said Mr. Foger. "You may
look about all you wish. You will find nothing wrong here."
And they did not, strange to say. There was considerable litter in
many of the rooms, and in one was Andy's airship in parts. Clearly
work was being done on that, and Mr. Dillon's story was confirmed,
for tools, with his initials burned in the handles, were lying
about.
The custom men, with Tom and Ned, went all over the house. Andy
scowled blackly at our hero, but said nothing. Mr. Foger seemed
anxious to show everything, and let the men go where they would.
Finally a tour of the house had been completed, and nothing of a
suspicious nature was found.
"I guess we'll just take a look at the roof, and see that airship
platform your son is going to use," said Mr. Whitford, in rather
disappointed tones, when he had found nothing.
"It isn't started yet," said Andy.
But they all went up through a scuttle, nevertheless, and saw where
some posts had been made fast to the roof, to provide a platform
foundation.
"I'll beat you all to pieces when I get flying," said the bully to
Tom, as they went down the scuttle again.
"I'm not in the racing game any more," replied Tom coldly. "Besides
I only race with my FRIENDS."
"Huh! Afraid of getting beat!" sneered Andy.
"Well. I guess there's nothing here," said Mr. Whitford to Mr.
Foger, as they stood together in the front room.
"No, I knew you'd find nothing, and you have had your trouble for
your pains."
"Oh, Uncle Sam doesn't mind trouble."
"And you have caused me much annoyance!" said Mr. Foger sharply.
"I'm afraid we'll have to cause you more," was the agent's comment.
"I want to have a look in the gardener's house, from where Tom Swift
saw the load going away."
"There is nothing there!" declared Mr. Foger quickly. "That is,
nothing but some old furniture. I sold a lot of it, and I suppose
the man who bought it came for it to-night."
"We'll take a look," repeated the agent, "I am very fond of old
furniture."
"Very well," responded the bully's father, as he eyed Tom and Ned
blackly.
He led the way out of the house, and soon they stood before the
small cottage. It was dark, and when Mr. Foger unlocked the door he
turned on the gas, and lighted it.
"I left the gas on until all the furniture should be taken out," he
explained. "But you will find nothing here."
It needed but a glance about the place to show that only some odds
and ends of furniture was all that it contained.
"Where does this door lead to," asked Mr. Whitford, when he had made
a tour of the place.
"Nowhere. Oh, that is only down into the cellar." was the reply.
"There is nothing there."
"We can't take anything for granted," went on the agent with a
smile. "I'll take a look down there."
He descended with some of his men. Tom and Ned remained in the
kitchen of the cottage, while Andy and his father conversed in low
tones, occasionally casting glances at our heroes. Once Tom thought
Mr. Foger looked apprehensively toward the door, through which the
custom men had descended. He also appeared to be anxiously
listening.
But when Mr. Whitford came back, with a disappointed look on his
face, and said there was nothing to be found, Mr. Foger smiled:
"What did I tell you?" he asked triumphantly.
"Never mind," was the retort of Uncle Sam's man. "We are not through
with Shopton yet."
"I'm sorry we gave you so much trouble on a false clew," said Tom,
as he and Ned left the Foger premises with Mr. Whitford, the other
deputies following.
"That's all right, Tom. We have to follow many false clews. I'm much
obliged to you. Either we were on the wrong track, or the Fogers are
more clever than I gave them credit for. But I am not done yet. I
have something to propose to you. It has come to me in the last few
minutes. I saw you in your airship once, and I know you know how to
manage such craft. Now there is no question in my mind but what the
smugglers are using airships. Tom, will you undertake a mission for
Uncle Sam?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean will you go to the border, in your airship, and try to catch
the smugglers? I can promise you a big reward, and much fame if we
catch them. An airship is just what is needed. You are the one to do
it. Will you?"
CHAPTER VII
A SEARCHLIGHT IS NEEDED
For a few moments after the custom officer had made his appeal, Tom
Swift did not reply. His thoughts were busy with many things.
Somehow, it seemed of late, there had been many demands on him,
demands that had been hard and trying.
In the past he had not hesitated, but in those cases friendship, as
well as a desire for adventures, had urged him. Now he thought he
had had his fill of adventures.
"Well?" asked Mr. Whitford, gently. "What's your answer, Tom? Don't
you think this is a sort of duty-call to you?"
"A duty-call?" repeated the young inventor.
"Yes. Of course I realize that it isn't like a soldier's call to
battle, but Uncle Sam needs you just the same. When there is a war
the soldiers are called on to repel an enemy. Now the smugglers are
just as much an enemy of the United States, in a certain way, as an
armed invader would be."
"One strikes at the life and liberty of the people, while the
smugglers try to cheat Uncle Sam out of money that is due him. I'm
not going to enter into a discussion as to the right of the
government to impose duties. People have their own opinion as to
that. But, as long as the law says certain duties are to be
collected, it is the duty of every citizen, not only to pay those
dues, but to help collect them. That's what I'm asking you to do,
Tom."
"I don't want to get prosy, or deliver a lecture on the work of the
custom house, Tom, but, honestly, I think it is a duty you owe to
your country to help catch these smugglers. I admit I'm at the end
of my rope. This last clew has failed. The Fogers seem to be
innocent of wrong doing. We need your help, Tom."
"But I don't see how I can help you."
"Of course you can! You're an expert with airships. The smugglers
are using airships, of that I'm sure. You tell me you have just
perfected a noiseless aircraft. That will be just the thing. You can
hover on the border, near the line dividing New York State from
Canada, or near the St. Lawrence, which is the natural division for
a certain distance, and when you see an airship coming along you can
slip up in your noiseless one, overhaul it, and make them submit to
a search."
"But I won't have any authority to do that," objected Tom, who
really did not care for the commission.
"Oh, I'll see that you get the proper authority all right," said Mr.
Whitford significantly. "I made you a temporary deputy to-night, but
if you'll undertake this work, to catch the smugglers in their
airships, you will be made a regular custom official."
"Yes, but supposing I can't catch them?" interposed our hero. "They
may have very fast airships, and--"
"I guess you'll catch 'em all right!" put in Ned, who was at his
chum's side as they walked along a quiet Shopton street in the
darkness. "There's not an aeroplane going that can beat yours, Tom."
"Well, perhaps I COULD get them," admitted the young inventor. "But--"
"Then you'll undertake this work for Uncle Sam?" interrupted Mr.
Whitford eagerly. "Come, Tom, I know you will."
"I'm not so sure of that," spoke Tom. "It isn't going to be as easy
as you think. There are many difficulties in the way. In the first
place the smuggling may be done over such a wide area that it would
need a whole fleet of airships to capture even one of the others,
for they might choose a most unfrequented place to cross the
border."
"Oh, we would be in communication with you," said the agent. "We can
come pretty near telling where the contrabrand goods will be shipped
from, but the trouble is, after we get our tips, we can't get to the
place before they have flown away. But with your airship, you could
catch them, after we sent you, say a wireless message, about where
to look for them. So that's no objection. You have a wireless outfit
on your airships, haven't you, Tom?"
"Yes, that part is all right."
"Then you can't have any more objections, Tom."
"Well, there are some. For instance you say most of this smuggling
is done at night."
"Practically all of it, yes."
"Well, it isn't going to be easy to pick out a contraband airship in
the dark, and chase it. But I'll tell you what I'll do, Mr.
Whitford, I feel as if I had sort of 'fallen down' on this clew
business, as the newspaper men say, and I owe it to you to make good
in some way."
"That's what I want--not that I think you haven't done all you
could," interposed the agent.
"Well, if I can figure out some way, by which I think I can come
anywhere near catching these smugglers, I'll undertake the work!"
exclaimed Tom. "I'll do it as a duty to Uncle Sam, and I don't want
any reward except my expenses. It's going to cost considerable, but--"
"Don't mind the expense!" interrupted Mr. Whitford. "Uncle Sam will
stand that. Why, the government is losing thousands of dollars every
week. It's a big leak, and must be stopped, and you're the one to
stop it, Tom."
"Well, I'll try. I'll see you in a couple of days, and let you know
if I have formed any plan. Now come on, Ned. I'm tired and want to
get to bed."
"So do I," added the agent. "I'll call on you day after to-morrow,
Tom, and I expect you to get right on the job," he added with a
laugh.
"Have you any idea what you are going to do, Tom?" asked his chum,
as they turned toward their houses.
"Not exactly. If I go I'll use my noiseless airship. That will come
in handy. But this night business rather stumps me. I don't quite
see my way to get around that. Of course I could use an ordinary
searchlight, but that doesn't give a bright enough beam, or carry
far enough. It's going to be quite a problem and I've got to think
it over."
"Queer about the Fogers; wasn't it, Tom?"
"Yes, I didn't think they were going to let us in."
"There's something going on there, in spite of the fact that they
were willing for an inspection to be made," went on Ned.
"I agree with you. I thought it was funny the way Mr. Foger acted
about not wanting the men to go down in the cellar."
"So did I, and yet when they got down there they didn't find
anything."
"That's so. Well, maybe we're on the wrong track, after all. But I'm
going to keep my eyes open. I don't see what Andy wants with an
airship platform on the roof of his house. The ground is good enough
to start from and land on."
"I should think so, too. But then Andy always did like to show off,
and do things different from anybody else. Maybe it's that way now."
"Perhaps," agreed Tom. "Well, here's your house, Ned. Come over in
the morning," and, with a good-night, our hero left his chum,
proceeding on toward his own home.
"Why, Koku, haven't you gone to bed yet?" asked the young inventor,
as, mounting the side steps, he saw his giant servant sitting there
on a bench he had made especially for his own use, as ordinary
chairs were not substantial enough. "What is the matter?"
"Nothing happen YET," spoke Koku significantly, "but maybe he come
pretty soon, and then I get him."
"Get who, Koku?" asked Tom, with quick suspicion.
"I do not know, but Eradicate say he hear someone sneaking around
his chicken coop, and I think maybe it be same man who was here once
before."
"Oh, you mean the rivals, who were trying to get my moving picture
camera?"
"That's what!" exclaimed Koku.
"Hum!" mused Tom. "I must be on the look-out. I'll tell you what
I'll do, Koku. I'll set my automatic camera to take the moving
pictures of any one who tries to get in my shop, or in the chicken
coop. I'll also set the burglar alarm. But you may also stay on the
watch, and if anything happens--"
"If anything happens, I will un-happen him!" exclaimed the giant,
brandishing a big club he had beside him.
"All right," laughed Tom. "I'm sleepy, and I'm going to bed, but
I'll set the automatic camera, and fix it with fuse flashlights, so
they will go off if the locks are even touched."
This Tom did, fixing up the wizard camera, which I have told you
about in the book bearing that title. It would take moving pictures
automatically, once Tom had set the mechanism to unreel the films
back of the shutter and lens. The lights would instantly flash, when
the electrical connections on the door locks were tampered with, and
the pictures would be taken.
Then Tom set the burglar alarm, and, before going to bed he focused
a searchlight, from one of his airships, on the shed and chicken
coop, fastening it outside his room window.
"There!" he exclaimed, as he got ready to turn in, not having
awakened the rest of the household, "when the burglar alarm goes
off, if it does, it will also start the searchlight, and I'll get a
view of who the chicken thief is. I'll also get some pictures."
Then, thinking over the events of the evening, and wondering if he
would succeed in his fight with the smugglers, providing he
undertook it, Tom fell asleep.
It must have been some time after midnight that he was awakened by
the violent ringing of a bell at his ear. At first he thought it was
the call to breakfast, and he leaped from bed crying out:
"Yes, Mrs. Baggert, I'm coming!"
A moment later he realized what it was.
"The burglar alarm!" he cried. "Koku, are you there? Someone is
trying to get into the chicken coop!" for a glance at the automatic
indicator, in connection with the alarm, had shown Tom that the
henhouse, and not his shop, had been the object of attack.
"I here!" cried Koku, "I got him!"
A series of startled cries bore eloquent testimony to this.
"I'm coming!" cried Tom. And then he saw a wonderful sight. The
whole garden, his shop, the henhouse and all the surrounding
territory was lighted up with a radiance almost like daylight. The
beams of illumination came from the searchlight Tom had fixed
outside his window, but never before had the lantern given such a
glow.
"That's wonderful!" cried Tom, as he ran to examine it. "What has
happened? I never had such a powerful beam before. There must be
something that I have stumbled on by accident. Say, that is a light
all right! Why it goes for miles and miles, and I never projected a
beam as far as this before."
As Tom looked into a circle of violet-colored glass set in the side
cf the small searchlight, to see what had caused the extraordinary
glow, he could observe nothing out of the ordinary. The violet glass
was to protect the eyes from the glare.
"It must be that, by accident, I made some new connection at the
dynamo," murmured Tom.
"Hi! Lemme go! Lemme go, Massa giant! I ain't done nuffin'!" yelled
a voice.
"I got you!" cried Koku.
"It's an ordinary chicken thief this time I guess," said Tom. "But
this light--this great searchlight--"
Then a sudden thought came to him.
"By Jove!" he cried. "If I can find out the secret of how I happened
to project such a beam, it will be the very thing to focus on the
smugglers from my noiseless airship! That's what I need--a
searchlight such as never before has been made--a terrifically
powerful one. And I've got it, if I can only find out just how it
happened. I've got to look before the current dies out."
Leaving the brilliant beams on in full blast, Tom ran down the
stairs to get to his shop, from which the electrical power came.
CHAPTER VIII
TOM'S NEWEST INVENTION
"I got him, Mr. Tom!"
"Oh, please, good Massa Swift! Make him leggo me! He suah am
squeezin' de liber outer me!"
"Shall I conflict the club upon him, Mr. Tom?"
It was Koku who asked this last question, as Tom came running toward
the giant. In the strange glare from the searchlight, the young
inventor saw his big servant holding tightly to a rather small,
colored man, while the camera, which was focused full on them, was
clicking away at a great rate, taking picture after picture on the
roll of films.
"No, don't INFLICT nor CONFLICT the club on him, Koku," advised Tom.
"Who is he?"
"I don't know, Mr. Tom. I was in hiding, in the darkness, waiting
for him to come back. He had been here once before in the evening,
Eradicate says. Well, he came while I was waiting and I detained
him. Then the lights went up. They are very bright lights, Mr. Tom."
"Yes, brighter than I expected they would be. I must look and see
what causes it. So you detained him, did you, Koku?"
"Yes, and what exposition shall I make of him?"
"What DISPOSITION?" corrected Tom, with a laugh. "Well, did he get
any chickens, Koku?"
"Oh, no, I was too tight for him."
"Oh, you mean too fast, or quick. Well, if he didn't get any, I
guess you might let him go. I have too much to attend to, to bother
with him."
"Oh, bress yo' for dat, Massa Tom!" cried the negro, whom Tom
recognized as a worthless character about the town. "I didn't go fo'
to do nuffin', Massa Tom. I were jest goin' t' look in de coop, t'
count an' see how many fowls mah friend Eradicate had, an' den--"
"Yes, and then I tie you!" broke in Koku.
"You collared him, I guess you mean to say," spoke Tom with a laugh.
"Well, I guess, Sam," speaking to the negro, "if YOU had counted
Rad's chickens HE couldn't have counted as many in the morning. But
be off, and don't come around again, or you might have to count the
bars in a jail cell for a change."
"Bress yo' honey. I won't neber come back."
"Shall release him?" asked Koku doubtfully.
"Yes," said Tom.
"And not reflict the club on him?"
The giant raised his club longingly.
"Oh, Massa Tom, protect me!" cried Sam.
"No, don't even REFLECT the club on him," advised the young inventor
with a laugh. "He hasn't done any harm, and he may have been the
means of a great discovery. Remember Sam," Tom went on sternly, "I
have your picture, as you were trying to break into the coop, and if
you come around again, I'll use it as evidence against you."
"Oh, I won't come. Not as long as dat giant am heah, anyhow," said
the negro earnestly. "Besides, I were only goin' t' count
Eradicate's chickens, t' see ef he had as many as I got."
"All right," responded Tom. "Now, Koku, you may escort him off the
premises, and be on the lookout the rest of the night, off and on.
Where's Rad?"
"He has what he says is 'de misery' in his back so that he had to go
to bed," explained the giant, to account for the faithful colored
man not having responded to the alarm.
"All right, get rid of Sam, and then come back."
As Tom turned to go in his shop he saw his aged father coming slowly
toward him. Mr. Swift had hastily dressed.
"What is the matter, Tom?" he asked. "Has anything happened? I heard
your alarm go off, and I came as quickly as I could."
"Nothing much has happened, father, excepting a chicken thief. But
something great may come of it. Do you notice that searchlight, and
how powerful it is?"
"I do, Tom. I never knew you had one as big as that."
"Neither did I, and I haven't, really. That's one of my smallest
ones, but something seems to have happened to it to make it throw
out a beam like that. I'm just going to look. Come on in the shop."
The two inventors, young and old, entered, and Tom quickly crossed
to where the wires from the automatic dynamo, extended to the
searchlight outside the window of his room. He made a quick
inspection.
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