Tom Swift in Captivity
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Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift in Captivity
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"Eradicate? I will! I never thought of that I'll get that
information for you, Mr. Waydell, in a few days."
"You'd better, if you want to keep that money."
The two plotters parted, and that very afternoon gave Andy the
chance he wanted. He met Eradicate on his way to the village where
he was going after something Tom needed.
"Hello, Rad!" called Andy with a show of good feeling. "I haven't
seen you in some time. I suppose you're getting too old to travel
around with Tom any more?"
"Gittin' too old!" exclaimed the colored man indignantly, for that
was his sore point. "What yo'-all mean, Andy Foger? I ain't gittin'
old, an' neider am Boomerang."
"Oh, I thought you were, as you haven't been on any trips lately."
"I ain't, hey? Well I's gwine on one right soon, let me tell you
dat, Andy Foger!"
"No! Is that so? Glad to hear it. Up to the North Pole I suppose?"
"No, sah; not much! No cold country for this coon! I's gwine where
it's nice an 'warm, an' where de cocoanuts fall in yo' mouf--I mean
where de bananas an' oranges fall in you mouf, an' de monkeys frow
down cocoanuts an' palm leaf fans to yo'!"
"Where's that, Rad?" asked Andy, and he tried to make his voice
sound indifferent, as though the matter did not interest him.
"South America, dat's where it am, an' I's gwine wif Massa Tom. We's
gwine t' git a monstrous big orchard plant."
"Oh, yes; I've heard about them. Well, I hope you get all the
oranges and bananas you want. South America, eh? I suppose along the
Amazon river, where they have crocodiles forty feet long, that are
always hungry."
"No, sah! No crockermiles fo' me! We ain't goin' neah de Amerzon
riber at all. We's gwine away down in de middle part of South
America. It's a place suffin laik Gomeonaway--or Goonaway, or
suffin' laik dat."
"Oh, yes; I know where you mean!" and Andy could hardly conceal the
note of triumph in his voice. He had the very information he wanted
from the simple colored man. "Yes, I guess there are no crocodiles
there, and plenty of monkeys and cocoanuts. Well, I hope you have a
good time," and Andy hurried away to seek out the rival circus man.
CHAPTER VI
ALARMING NEWS
"Hand me that hammer, Ned."
"There it is, right behind you, on the bench."
"Oh, so it is. Here are those nails you were asking for."
"Good. Now we'll make things hum," and Ned Newton's voice was
drowned in the rapid driving of nails into boards.
"Bless my screw driver!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Damon, who was
sawing planks to make covers for boxes.
"What's the matter?" asked Tom, looking up from a bundle he was
tying up. It contained the magneto of his aeroplane and he was
putting waterproof paper about it. "Did you cut your finger?"
"No, but I just happened to think that I nailed my watch up in that
last box."
"Nailed up your watch!" cried Mr. Preston, who, after a trip to New
York to make arrangements for passages on a steamer, had come back
to help Tom pack up.
"Yes, I took it out to see how long it took me to make a box cover,
and then Tom asked me to nail up that box containing the motor
parts, and I laid my watch right down on top, and put the boards
over it."
"Well, the only thing to do is to take off the cover," remarked Tom
grimly.
"Bless my chronometer! That will delay things," said the odd man
with a sigh. "But I suppose there is no hope for it," and he
proceeded to open the box, while Tom, Ned, the circus man and
Eradicate busied themselves over the hundred and one things to be
done before they would be ready for the trip to the interior of
South America.
"Look out, Ned!" called Tom. "You're making those top boards too
long. They'll stick out over the edge, and be ripped off if the box
catches on anything."
"Yes, you can't be too careful," cautioned Mr. Preston. "Each box or
package must be the right weight, or the porters and mule drivers
won't carry them into the interior. You may have to cross rough
trails, and even ford rivers. And as for bridges! well, the less
said about them the better. You aren't going to have any picnic, and
if you want to back out, Tom Swift, now is the time to say so."
"What! Back out?" cried our hero. "Never! I said I'd go and I'm
going. Ned, pass that brace and bit over, will you. I've got to bore
a hole for these screws."
And so the work went on in the big aeroplane shed, which they had
made their packing headquarters.
The Lark, that small, but strong and speedy aeroplane, had been
safely packed, and most of it had been sent on ahead to New York,
where the travellers were to take the steamer. There remained to be
transported their clothing, weapons and ammunition, and several
bundles and cases of trinkets which would be of more value in
bartering with the natives than money. Tom and Mr. Preston had
selected the things with great care, and at the last moment the
young inventor had packed a box of his own, and said nothing about
it. Included in it were some of his own and his father's inventions,
and had one been given a glance into that same box he would have
wondered at the queer things.
"What in the world are you taking with you, anyhow?" asked Ned, of
his chum, noticing the mysterious box.
"'You'll see, if we ever get to giant land," replied Tom with a
smile.
"How long before we can start?" asked Mr. Damon, late that day, when
most of the hard work had been finished. He was as anxious and as
eager as either of the youths to make a start.
"We ought to be ready at least a week from to-day," replied Tom,
"and perhaps sooner."
"Sooner, if you can make it," suggested Mr. Preston. "The steamer
sails a week from to-day, and if you miss that one you'll have to
wait two weeks more."
"Then a week from to-day we'll sail," decided Tom, with emphasis.
"We'll work nights getting things in shape."
Really, though, not much more remained to be done, and the next day
Mr. Preston again went to New York, accompanying a shipment of boxes
and cases that Tom sent on ahead.
The two chums were busy in the aeroplane hangar a few days after
this, nailing up the last of some light cases containing medicines,
personal effects and comforts that would accompany them on their
trip.
"Well, I'm glad of one thing," remarked Tom thoughtfully, as he
drove home the last nail in a box, "and that is that we won't be
bothered with that Andy Foger on this trip. I haven't seen hide nor
hair of him in some time. I guess he and his father are down and
out."
"I guess so. I haven't seen him either."
"Massa Andy were in town a few days ago," ventured Eradicate.
"He was?" cried Tom. "Did you see him? What was he doing, Rad?"
"Nuffin, same as usual. He done say I were too old to go on any more
hexpiditions wif yo' an' I proved dat I wasn't."
"Proved that you weren't, Rad? How?" And Tom looked anxiously at his
colored helper.
"Why, I done say t' him dat I was gwine wif yo'-all dis time, t' dat
Comeaway country after a big orchard plant. Dat's how I done prove
it to dat Andy Foger."
"Rad, you didn't tell him we were going to South America?" asked Tom
reproachfully.
"Suah I done so, Massa Tom. Dat were de only way t' prove t' him dat
I wa'an't gittin' too old."
"Oh, Rad! I'm afraid--" and Tom hesitated.
"Oh, I don't believe it amounted to anything," interposed Ned. "Andy
didn't have any one with him, did he, Rad?"
"No, Massa Ned. He were all alone by hisse'f."
"Then I guess it's all right, Tom. Andy was only rigging Eradicate,
and he didn't pay any attention to what he said."
"Well, I hope so," and the young inventor wore a thoughtful air as
he resumed the finish of the packing.
The colored man, blissfully unconscious that he had been the
innocent cause of a grave danger that overhung Tom and his friends,
whistled gaily as he gathered the boxes, bales and packages into a
pile, ready for the expressman, who was to call in the morning.
Tom, together with Ned, Mr. Damon and Eradicate, were to leave the
following afternoon, and stay in New York until the sailing of the
steamer. They preferred to be a day or so ahead of time than half an
hour late, and were taking no chances.
"Bless my timetable!" exclaimed Mr. Damon that night, as they sat in
the library of the Swift home, checking over the lists to make sure
that nothing had been forgotten, "bless my timetable, but it doesn't
seem possible that we are going to start at last."
"Yes, we'll soon be on the way to giant land," spoke Tom in a low
voice. Somehow the young inventor did not seem to be in his usually
bright spirits.
"You don't seem very enthusiastic," remarked Ned. "What's the
matter, Tom?"
"Oh, nothing much. Though I would feel better if I knew that Andy
Foger didn't have any inkling of what our plans were," he added, for
Eradicate was not present.
"Oh, nonsense!" exclaimed his chum. "Mr. Preston will be here in the
morning, and he'll know whether his rival has any idea of camping on
our trail. Cheer up!"
"Yes, I suppose I am foolish to worry," admitted Tom. "but, somehow
I can't help it. I wish Mr. Preston was here now to tell us that
Wayland Waydell had gone off to the centre of Africa for a dwarf.
Then I'd know we had nothing to fear. But I guess--"
Tom did not finish his sentence for, at that moment, there came a
peal at the door bell. Instinctively every one started, and Mr.
Damon exclaimed:
"Bless my burglar alarm! What's that?"
"Someone at the door, Tom," replied Mr. Swift calmly. "That's
nothing unusual. It's early yet."
But, in spite of his reassuring words, there was a feeling of vague
alarm.
"I'll see who it is," volunteered Ned. "If it's Andy Foger--"
Mrs. Baggert entered the room at that moment. She had hurried to the
door, and, as she entered she announced:
"Mr. Preston!"
"Yes, it is I!" added the circus man following her quickly into the
room. "I came on to-night instead of waiting for the morning, Tom. I
have bad news for you!"
"Bad news!" gasped the young inventor. "Has Waydell got hold of your
plans."
"I'll wager it has something to do with Andy Foger!" exclaimed Ned.
"Neither one," spoke the circus man. "But I have just had a cable
dispatch from one of my animal agents in Brazil, saying that war has
broken out among the tribes in the central part of South America. A
big native war is being waged all around giant land, as near as we
can figure it out."
"War among the native tribes!" exclaimed Mr. Swift.
"Yes, and one of the worst in years. Of course, Tom, after such
alarming news as this I won't hold you to your promise to go. It's
all off. I'm sorry, but you'd better wait. It won't be safe to go
there now. Better unpack, Tom."
For a moment there was a silence in the room. Then the young
inventor leaped to his feet and faced the circus man.
"Unpack?" cried Tom in ringing tones. "Never! I'm going to giant
land, fight or no fight! Ned, come with me and we'll put in some of
my electric rifles. I wasn't going to take them along, but I will
now. Unpack? I guess not! I'm going to get a giant for you, Mr.
Preston, and save Jake Poddington if he's alive. Come on, Ned."
CHAPTER VII
FIRE ON BOARD
"Your electric rifles!" exclaimed Ned Newton, as he followed his
chum to the storeroom, where Tom kept a number of spare guns. "It's
a good thing you thought of them, Tom."
"Yes, I didn't think we'd need them, for I believe peaceable means
are the best to use on natives. But if there's a war, and we have to
defend ourselves against the tribes, we'll take along something that
will do more damage than an ordinary rifle, and yet I can regulate
it so that it will only stun, and not kill."
"That's the stuff, Tom. No use in being needlessly cruel. How many
will you take?"
"Two or three. We may need 'em all."
A little later the two lads returned to the library where Mr. Damon,
Mr. Swift and the circus man were anxiously awaiting them. Mr.
Preston looked curiously at several objects which Tom and Ned
carried. The objects looked like guns but were different from any
the giant-seeker had seen.
"What are they?" he asked Tom.
"Electric rifles. One of my inventions," and Tom showed how the
weapon worked. Those of you who have read the volume entitled, "Tom
Swift and His Electric Rifle" will remember this curious weapon. It
was worked by a stored charge of magnetism of the wireless kind. By
this a concentrated globule of electricity was projected from the
muzzle, and it could be made strong or weak at the will of the
marksman. It could be made so powerful that it would totally
annihilate a whale, as Tom had once proved, or it could be made so
mild that it would put an enemy, or several of them, to sleep almost
as gently as some narcotic, and they would awaken after several
hours, little the worse for their experience.
A charge of electricity as powerful as five thousand volts could be
concentrated into a small wireless globule the size of a bullet, and
this would fly through space, or even through solid objects until,
reaching the limit of the range set, would strike the object aimed
at. With his wonderful electric rifle Tom had not only killed
elephants, and other big game, but fought off the red pygmies of
Africa.
"And we may have a use for it in South America," he added as he
explained the workings to Mr. Preston.
"Well, I'm glad you didn't back out," commented the circus man, "and
this may come in mighty handy. I'll feel easier about you now, Tom,
when I know you have some electric rifles with you."
The circus man was told of what Eradicate had said to Andy, but he
was of the opinion that no harm would result from it.
"As far as I can learn," went on Mr. Preston, "my old rival Waydell
has given up the giant idea. He is looking for a two-headed
crocodile, said to be somewhere along the Nile river, and he's
fitting out an expedition there I understand. I guess we won't be
bothered with him. But the giant for mine! If I get that sort of an
attraction his two-headed crocodile won't be in it. I hope you have
luck, Tom Swift."
The last details of the expedition were considered. Nothing seemed
to have been left undone, and though carrying the electric rifles
would make a little more baggage, no one minded that.
"I kin carry dem," said Eradicate. "I ain't got much baggage of mah
own."
So it was arranged, and early the next morning the little band of
intrepid travelers, who were going in search of giant land, started
for New York. They little knew what was ahead of them, nor what dire
perils they were to pass through.
Of course Tom had said good-bye to Mary Nestor and half-jokingly, he
had promised to bring back a giant of his own, that she might see
one outside of a circus.
"But, Tom," Mary exclaimed with a laugh, "what will you do with one
of the big creatures if you get one?"
"Have him help me on my newest invention--the noiseless airship,"
answered the young inventor. "I need some one to lift heavy weights.
It will save putting up a derrick. Yes, I think I'll get a giant of
my own."
The last good-byes were said, and the parting between Tom and his
father was affecting.
"I'll soon be back, dad," he said in as cheerful a tone as he could
assume, "and I'll help you finish your gyroscope."
"I hope you will, Tom," and then, with a pressure of his son's hand,
Mr. Swift turned away and went into the house, closing the door
after him.
The first part of the trip to New York was rather a silent one, no
one caring to talk much. Eradicate was the only cheerful member of
the party, which included the circus man, who was going as far as
the steamer with Tom and his friends.
"Say," Ned exclaimed finally, "any one would think we were going to
a funeral!"
"That's right," agreed Tom. "I guess something is on all our nerves.
Let's do something to take it off. Here comes a boy with some funny
papers. We'll buy some and read all the jokes."
This proved a diversion, and before the train had gone many miles
more the giant-hunters were talking and laughing as though they were
merely starting on a short pleasure trip, instead of an expedition
to the dangerous jungles of South America.
They put up at a good hotel in New York, and as soon as they were
established Tom and Mr. Preston went to the steamer Calaban which
was to land them at Buenos Ayres. They found that there was some
confusion about their luggage and boxes, and it took them the better
part of a day to get the tangle straightened out, and their stuff
stored together in one hold.
"It will be easier to get it out if it's all together," said Tom, at
the conclusion of their labors, and then he and the circus man
returned to the hotel. The ship was to sail two days later, and,
several hours before the time set for the departure, Tom and his
friends were on board.
"You don't see anything of your rival circus friend, do you?" asked
Tom, of the man who wanted a giant.
"Not a sign," was the answer, as Mr. Preston glanced over the throng
of on-coming passengers. "I guess we've either given him the slip,
or he's given up the game. You won't have to worry about him. Just
take it easy until you start for the interior, and from then on
you'll have hard work enough."
The last of the cargo was being taken aboard, the late passengers
had arrived and were anxiously watching to see that their baggage
was not lost. As Mr. Preston stood talking with Tom near the
gangplank, a clerical looking gentleman approached the circus man.
"I beg your pardon," he began in mild accents, "but could you tell
me where my stateroom is?" and he showed his ticket. "I'm not used
to traveling," he needlessly added for that fact was very evident.
Mr. Preston informed him how to get to his berth, and the gentleman
went on: "Are you going all the way to Buenos Ayres?"
"No, but my friend is," and the circus man nodded at Tom.
"Oh, I'm so glad!" the stranger exclaimed. "Then I shall have
someone of whom I can ask questions. I am quite lost when I travel."
"I'll help you all I can," volunteered Tom, "and I'll show you to
your stateroom now."
"Ah, thank you. Your name is--"
"Tom Swift," supplied the young inventor.
"Ah, yes, I believe I have read about your airships. I am the
Reverend Josiah Blinderpool. I am taking a little vacation. I trust
we shall become good friends."
"Humph, he's a regular infant, to be away from civilization," mused
Tom, when he had showed the clergyman to the proper stateroom.
"He'll get into trouble, he's so innocent." If he could have seen
that same "clergyman" double up with mirth when he had closed his
stateroom door after him, Tom would not have felt so sure about that
same "innocence."
"To think that I was talking face to face with Sam Preston and he
never tumbled to who I was!" exclaimed the newcomer softly. "That's
rich! Now if I play my cards right I shouldn't be surprised but what
they'd invite me to come along with them. That would just suit me. I
wouldn't have any trouble then, getting on the track of those
giants. The information Waydell got from that red-haired Foger chap
wasn't any too definite," and once more the man wearing the garb of
a minister chuckled.
"Well, I'll say good-bye," remarked Mr. Preston, a little later,
when the warning bell had rung. "I guess you'll get along all right.
I haven't seen a sign of Waydell, or any of his slick agents. You'll
have no trouble I guess."
But if the circus man could have seen the "clergyman" at that same
time looking over letters addressed to "Hank Delby," and signed
"Wayland Waydell" he would not have been so confident.
Mr. Preston bade good-bye to his friends, the gangplank was hauled
up, and a hoarse blast came from the whistle of the Calaban.
"Bless my pocketbook!" cried Mr. Damon. "We're off!"
"Yep, off t' git dat big, giant orchard plant," chimed in Eradicate.
"Hush!" exclaimed Tom, who did not like the use of the word "giant"
even in that connection. "Don't tell everyone our business, Rad."
"Dat's right, Massa Tom. I clean done forgot dat it's a sort of
secret. I'll keep mighty still 'bout it."
The Calaban swung out into the river and began steaming down the
bay.
The first week of the voyage was uneventful. The weather was
exceptionally fine, and hardly any one was seasick. The Reverend Mr.
Blinderpool was often on deck, and he made it a point to cultivate
the acquaintance of Tom and his friends. In spite of the fact that
he said he had traveled very little, he seemed to know much about
hidden corners of the world, but always, as on an occasion when he
had accidentally let slip some remark that showed he had been in
far-off China or Asia, he would suddenly change the conversation
when it verged to travel.
"There's something queer about that minister," said Ned after one of
these occasions, "but I can't decide what it is."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Tom, who rather liked the man.
"No nonsense about it. Why should a minister take a trip like this
when he isn't sick, and when he isn't going to establish a mission
in South America? There's something queer about it, for, by his own
words he just took this voyage as a whim."
"Oh, you're too fussy," declared Tom; and for the time the subject
was dropped.
They ran into a storm when about ten days out, and for a while they
had a rough time of it, and then the weather cleared again.
It was one evening, after the formal dinner, when Tom and Ned were
strolling about on deck, before turning in, that, the quiet of the
ship was broken by what is always an alarming cry at sea.
"Fire! Fire!" shouted a man, pointing to a thin wisp of smoke
curling up from the deck amidships.
"Keep quiet!" yelled one of the stewards. "It is nothing!"
"It's a fire, I tell you!" insisted the man, and several others took
up the cry.
A panic was imminent, and the captain came running from his
quarters.
"What is it?" he asked.
An officer hurried to his side, and said something but in such a low
voice that Tom, who was standing close beside the two, scarcely
heard it. But he did hear this:
"There's a fire, sir, in hold number seventeen. We have turned the
hose in there, and the pumps are working."
"Very good, Mr. Meld. Now try and quiet the passengers. Tell them it
doesn't amount to much, and if it does we can flood that
compartment."
Tom started at that.
"Come on, Ned!" he cried, grabbing his chum by the arm.
"Why, what's up? What's the matter?"
"Matter? Matter enough! The fire is in the hold where all our stuff
is stored, and if the flames reach that box I packed last--well, I
wouldn't give much for the ship!" and fairly dragging his chum
along, Tom raced for the place where the smoke was now coming up in
thicker clouds.
CHAPTER VIII
A NARROW ESCAPE
"Here, come back! You can't go past here!"
"But I've got to go! I tell you I must go! It's important!"
The first speaker was one of the ship's officers, and the other was
Tom Swift, who, accompanied by his chum, was trying to get past a
rope that had been hastily stretched in front of the hold where the
smoke was rolling up in ever-thickening clouds.
"It's important that you stay where you are," insisted the officer.
"Look here young man, do you want to start a panic? You know what
that is on board ship. Keep cool, we'll get the fire out all right."
"I am cool," responded Tom, and, though he did look a bit excited,
he was calm enough to know what he was doing.
"Then keep back!" insisted the officer.
A crowd was gathering and there were ominous whispers sent back and
forth. Some hysterical women were beginning to scream, and there
were anxious looks on all faces.
"I tell you it's important that I go down there," insisted Tom. "I
want to get a box--"
"We'll look after the baggage of the passengers," declared the
officer. "You don't need to worry, young man."
"But I tell you I do!" and Tom's voice was loud now. "It isn't so
much on my account, as--" and then, stepping quickly to the side of
the officer he whispered something.
"What!" cried the officer. "You don't tell me? That was a risk! I
guess I'll have to help you get it out. Here, Mr. Simm," he called
to one of the mates, "stand guard here. I'm going down into the hold
with this young man."
"Shall I come?" cried Ned.
"No, you go stay with Mr. Damon and Eradicate," answered Tom. "Tell
them everything is all right. And for cats' sake keep Rad cool.
Don't let him get excited and start a panic. I'll be back in a
minute."
With that Tom and the officer disappeared from view, and Ned, after
wondering what it was all about, hastened to reassure Mr. Damon and
the colored man that there was no danger, though from the manner in
which Tom had acted his chum was convinced that something was wrong.
Meanwhile our hero, accompanied by the officer, was groping his way
through the thick smoke in the compartment. The officer had switched
on the electric lights, and they shone with a yellow haze through
the clouds of choking vapor.
"Can you see it?" asked the officer anxiously.
"I had it put where I could easily get at it," answered Tom with a
cough, for some of the smoke had got down his throat. "I had an idea
I might need it in a hurry. Here it is!" and he pointed to a large
box, marked with his initials in red paint. "Give me a hand and
we'll get it out."
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