Tom Swift in the Caves of Ice

V >> Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift in the Caves of Ice

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

"Andy sending his airship to Alaska!" murmured Tom in dismay. "Then
he surely is going to make a try for that valley of gold!"

He turned away, while the snarling voice of the bully rang out on
the night, urging the drivers to be very careful of the boxes and
crates on their trucks.

CHAPTER VIII

A THIEF IN THE NIGHT

Tom Swift hardly knew what to think. He had scarcely believed, in
spite of the fact that he was sure Andy had a copy of the map, that
the bully would actually make an effort to go to the valley of gold.

"And in that airship of his, too," mused Tom. "Well, there's one
consolation, I don't believe he'll go far in that, though it does
sail better than when he made his first attempt. Well, if he's going
to try to beat us, it's a good thing I know it We can be prepared
for him, now."

Tom, after watching the big vans for a few minutes, turned and kept
on toward his home.

There was more than surprise on the part of Mr. Damon and the others
when Tom told his news. There was alarm, for there was a feeling
that Mr. Foger and his son might adopt unscrupulous tricks.

"But what can we do?" asked Mr. Swift

"Whitewash him!" exclaimed Eradicate Sampson, who had overheard part
of the conversation. "Dat's what I'd do t' him an' his father, too!
Dat's what I would! Fust I'd let mah mule Boomerang kick him a bit,
an' den, when he was all mussed up, I'd whitewash him!" That was the
colored man's favorite method of dealing with enemies, but, of
course, he could not always carry it out.

However, after considering the matter from all sides, it was decided
that nothing could be done for the present.

"Let them go," said Tom, "I don't believe they'll ever find the
valley of gold. I fancy I threw a scare into Andy, talking as I did
about the map."

"Well, even if the Fogers do get the gold," said Mr. Parker calmly,
"they cannot take away the caves of ice, and it is in them that I am
most interested. I want to prove some of my new theories."

"And we need the gold," said Tom, in a low voice; "don't we, Abe?"

"That's what we do, Tom," answered the old miner.

Preparations were now practically completed for their trip to
Seattle by rail. Tom made some inquiries in the next few days
regarding the Fogers, but only learned that the father and son had
left town, after superintending the shipment of their airship.

"Well, we start to-day," remarked Tom, as he arose one morning. "In
two weeks, at most, we ought to be hovering over the valley, Abe."

"I hope so? Tom. You've got the map put away safely, have you?"

"Sure thing. Are you all ready?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll start for the depot right after breakfast." The
adventurers had arranged to take a local train from Shopton, and get
on a fast express at one of the more important! stations.

Good-byes were said, Mr. Swift, Mr. Jackson, Mrs. Baggert and
Eradicate waving their adieus from the porch as Tom and the others
started for the depot. Miss Mary Nestor had bidden our hero farewell
the previous night--it being a sort of second good-bye, for Tom was
a frequent caller at her house, and, if the truth must be told he
rather disliked to leave the young lady.

Tom found a few of his friends at the station, who had gathered
there to give him and Ned BON-VOYAGE.

"Bring us back some nuggets, Tom," pleaded Arthur Norton.

"Bring me a musk-ox if you can shoot one," suggested one.

"A live bear or a trained Eskimo for mine," exclaimed another.

Tom laughingly promised to do the best he could.

"I'll send you some gold nuggets by wireless," said Ned Newton.

It was almost time for the train to arrive. In the crowd on the
platform Tom noticed Pete Bailey.

"He must feel lost without Andy," observed the young inventor to
Ned.

"Yes, I wonder what he's hanging around here for?"

They learned a moment later, for they saw Pete going into the
telegraph office.

"Must be something important for him to wire about," observed Ned.

Tom did not answer. The window of the office was slightly open,
though the day was cool, and he was listening to the clicks of the
telegraph instrument, as the operator sent Pete's message. Tom was
familiar with the Morse code. What was his surprise to hear the
message being sent to Andy Foger at a certain hotel in Chicago. And
the message read:

"Tom Swift's party leaving to-day."

"What in the world does that mean?" thought Tom, but he did not tell
Ned what he had picked up as it went over the wire. "Why should Andy
want to be informed when we leave? That's why Pete was hanging
around here! He had been instructed to let Andy know when we left
for Seattle. There's something queer back of all this."

Tom was still puzzling over the matter when their train roiled in
and he and the others got aboard.

"Well, we're off!" cried Ned.

"Yes; we're off," admitted Tom, and, to himself he added: "No
telling what will happen before we get there, though."

The trip to Chicago was without incident, and, on arrival in the
Windy City, Tom was on the lookout for Andy or his father, but he
did not see them. He made private inquiries at the hotel mentioned
in Pete's telegram, but learned that the Fogers had gone on.

"Perhaps I'm worrying too much," thought Tom. But an event that
occurred a few nights later, when they were speeding across the
continent showed him that there was need of great precaution.

On leaving Chicago, Tom had noticed, among the other passengers
traveling in the same coach as themselves, a man who seemed to be
closely observing each member of the party of gold-hunters. He was a
man with a black mustache, a mustache so black, in fact, that Tom at
once concluded that it had been dyed. This, in itself, was not much,
but there was a certain air about the man--a "sporty" air--which
made Tom suspicious.

"I wouldn't be surprised if that man was a gambler, Ned," he said to
his chum, one afternoon, as they were speeding along. The man in
question was several seats away from Tom.

"He does look like one," agreed Ned.

"I needn't advise you not to fall in with any of his invitations to
play cards, I suppose," went on Tom, after a pause.

"No, indeed, it's something I don't do," answered Ned, with a laugh.
"But it might be a good thing to speak to Abe Abercrombie about him.
If that man's a sharper perhaps Abe knows him, or has seen him, for
Abe has traveled around in the West considerable."

"We'll ask him," agreed Tom, but the miner, when his attention was
called to the man, said he had never seen him before.

"He does look like a confidence man," agreed Abe, "but as long as he
doesn't approach us we can't do anything, and don't need to worry."

There was little need to call the attention of either Mr. Damon or
Mr. Parker to the man, for Mr. Damon was busy watching the scenery,
as this trip was a new one to him, and he was continually blessing
something he saw or thought of. As for Mr. Parker, he was puzzling
over some new theories he had in mind, and he said little to the
others.

On the night of the same day on which Tom had called special
attention to the man with the black mustache, our hero went to his
berth rather late. He had sent some telegrams to his father and one
to Miss Nestor, and, when he turned in he saw the "gambler," as he
had come to call him, going into the smoking compartment of the
coach. Though Tom thought of the man as a gambler, there was no
evidence, as yet, that he was one, and he had made no effort to
approach any of our friends, though he had observed them closely.

How long Tom had been asleep he did not know, but he was suddenly
awakened by feeling his pillow move. At first he thought it was
caused by the swaying of the train, and he was about to go to sleep
again, when there came a movement that he knew could not have been
caused by any unevenness of the roadbed.

Then, like a flash there came to Tom's mind the thought that under
his pillow, in a little leather case he had made for it, was the
map, showing the location of the valley of gold.

He sat up suddenly, and made a lunge for the pillow. He felt a hand
being hurriedly withdrawn. Tom made a grab for it, but the fingers
slipped from his grasp.

"Here! Who are you!" cried Tom, endeavoring to peer through the
darkness.

"It's all right--mistake," murmured a voice.

Tom leaned suddenly forward and parted the curtains of his berth.
There was a dim light burning in the aisle of the car. By the gleam
of it the young inventor caught sight of a man hurrying away, and he
felt sure the fellow who had put his hand under his pillow was the
man with the black mustache. He confirmed this suspicion a moment
later, for the man half turned, as if to look back, and the youth
saw the mustache.

"He--he was after my map!" thought Tom, with a gasp.

He sat bolt upright. What should he do? To raise an alarm now, he
felt, would only bring a denial from the man if he accused him.
There might also be a scene, and the man might get very indignant.
Then, too, Tom and his friends did not want their object made known,
as it would be in the event of Tom raising an outcry and stating
what was under his pillow.

He felt for the map case, opened it and saw, in the gleam of the
light, that it was safe.

"He didn't get it anyhow," murmured our hero. "I guess I won't say
anything until morning, though he did come like a thief in the night
to see if he could steal it."

Tom glanced to where his coat and other clothing hung in the little
berth-hammock, and a hasty search showed that his money and ticket
were safe.

"It was the map he was after all right," mused Tom. "I'll have a
talk with Mr. Damon in the morning about what's best to do. That's
why the fellow has been keeping such a close watch on us. He wanted
to see who had the map."

Then another thought came to Tom.

"If it was the map he was after," he whispered to himself, "he must
know what it's about Therefore the Fogers must have told him. I'll
wager Andy or his father put this man up to steal the map. Andy's
afraid he hasn't got a copy of the right one. This is getting more
and more mysterious! We must be on our guard all the while. Well,
I'll see what I'll do in the morning."

But in the morning the man with the black mustache was not aboard
the train, and on inquiring of the conductor, Tom learned that the
mysterious stranger had gotten off at a way station shortly after
midnight.

CHAPTER IX

A VANDAL'S ACT

"Bless my penknife!" exclaimed Mr. Daman, the next morning, when he
had been told of Tom's experience in the night, "things are coming
to a pretty pass when our enemies adopt such tactics as this! What
can we do, Tom? Hadn't you better let one of us carry the map?"

"Oh, I guess not," answered the young inventor. "They have had one
try at me, and found that I wasn't napping. I don't believe they'll
try again. No, I'll carry the map."

Tom concealed it in an old wallet, as he thought it was less likely
to attract attention there than in the new case he formerly used.
Still he did not relax his vigilance, and his sleep for the next few
nights was uneasy, as he awakened several times, thinking he felt a
hand under his pillow.

At length Ned suggested that one of them sit up part of the night,
and keep an eye on Tom's berth. This was agreed to, and they divided
the hours of darkness into watches, each one taking a turn at
guarding the precious map. But they might have spared themselves the
trouble, for no further attempt was made to get it.

"I'd just like to know what Andy Foger's plans are?" said Tom one
afternoon, as they were within a few miles of Seattle. "He certainly
must have made up his mind quickly, after he saw the map, about
going in search of the gold."

"Maybe his father proposed it," suggested Ned. "I heard, in our
bank, that Mr. Foger has lost considerable money lately, and he may
need more."

"I shouldn't wonder. Well, if they are going to Sitka, Alaska, to
assemble their ship, I think they'll have trouble, for supplies are
harder to get there than in Seattle. But we'll soon be on our way
ourselves, if nothing happens. I hope all the parts of the RED CLOUD
arrive safely."

They did, as Tom learned a few hours later, when they had taken up
their quarters in a Seattle hotel, and he had made inquiries at the
railroad office. In the freight depot were all the boxes and crates
containing the parts of the big airship, and by comparison with a
list he had made, the young inventor found that not a single part
was missing.

"We'll soon have her together again," he said to his friends, "and
then we'll start for Alaska."

"Where are you going to assemble the airship?" asked Mr. Damon.

"I've got to hire some sort of a big shed," explained Tom. "I heard
of one I think I can get. It's out at the fair grounds, and was used
some time ago when they had a balloon ascension here. It will be
just what I need."

"How long before we can start for the gold valley?" asked the old
miner anxiously.

"Oh, in about a week," answered the lad, "that is, if everything
goes well."

Tom lost no time in getting to work. He had the different parts of
his airship carted to the big shed which he hired. This building was
on one edge of the fair grounds, and there was a large, level space
which was admirably adapted for trying the big craft, when once more
it was put together.

The gold-seekers worked hard, and to such good purpose that in three
days most of the ship was together once more, and the RED CLOUD
looked like herself again. Tom hired a couple of machinists to aid
him in assembling the motor, and some of the gas appliances and
other apparatus.

"Ha! Bless my rubber shoes!" cried Mr. Damon in delight, as he
looked at the big craft "This is like old times, Tom!"

"Yes, indeed," agreed our hero.

"Are you going to give it a preliminary tryout?" asked Ned.

"Oh, yes, I think we can do that to-morrow," replied Tom. "I want to
know that everything is in good working shape before I trust the
ship on the trip to the frozen north. There are several problems I
want to work out, too, for I think I will need a different kind of
gas up where the temperature is so low."

"It certainly is cold up here," agreed Ned, for they were now much
farther north than when they were in Shopton, and, besides, winter
was coming on. It was not the best time of the year to journey into
Alaska, but they had no choice. To delay, especially now, might mean
that their enemies would get ahead of them.

"We'll be warm in the airship, though; won't we?" asked Abe.

"Oh, yes," answered Tom. "We'll be warm, and have plenty to eat.
Which reminds me that I must begin to see about our stock of
provisions and other supplies, for we'll soon be on our way."

Work on the airship was hastened to such good advantage the next two
days that it was in shape for a trial flight, and, one afternoon,
the RED CLOUD was wheeled from the shed out into big field, the gas
was generated, and the motor started.

There was a little hitch, due to the fact that some of the machine
adjustments were wrong, but Tom soon had that remedied and then,
with the big propellers whirling around, the airship was sent
scudding across the field.

Another moment and it rose like a great eagle, and sailed through
the air, while a small crowd that had daily gathered in the hope of
seeing a flight, sent up a cheer.

"Does it work all right?" asked Ned anxiously, as he stood in the
pilothouse beside his chum.

"As good as it did in Shopton," answered the young inventor,
proudly.

"Bless my pocketbook! but that's lucky," exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Then
we can soon start, eh?"

"As soon as we are stocked up," replied the lad.

Tom put the airship through a number of "stunts" to test her
stability and the rudder control, much to the delight of the
gathering throng. Everything was found to work well, and after
ascending to a considerable height, to the no small alarm of the old
miner, Tom made a quick descent, with the motor shut off. The RED
CLOUD conducted herself perfectly, and there was nothing else to be
desired.

She was sent down to earth and wheeled back into the shed, and not
without some difficulty, for the crowd, which was now very large,
wanted to get near enough to touch the wonderful craft.

"To-morrow I'll arrange about the supplies and provisions, and we'll
stock her up," said Tom to his companions. "Now you folks had better
go back to the hotel."

"Aren't you coming?" asked Ned.

I'm going to bunk here in the shed to-night, said the young
inventor.

"What for?"

"I can't take any chances now that the RED CLOUD is in shape for
flying. Some of the Foger crowd might be hanging around, and break
in here to damage her."

"But the watchman will be on guard," suggested Ned, for since the
hiring of the shed, the young inventor had engaged a man to remain
on duty all night.

"I know," answered Tom Swift, "but I'm not going to take any
chances. I'll stay here with the watchman."

Ned offered to share the vigil with his chum, and, after some
objection Tom consented. The others went back to the hotel,
promising to return early in the morning.

Tom slept heavily that night, much heavier than he was in the habit
of doing. So did Ned, and their deep breathing as they lay in their
staterooms, in the cabin of the airship, told of physical weariness,
for they had worked hard to re-assemble the RED CLOUD.

The watchman was seated in a chair just inside the big door of the
shed, near a small stove in which was a fire to take off the chill
of the big place. The guard had slept all day, and there was no
excuse for him nodding in the way that he did.

"Queer, how drowsy I feel," he murmured several times. "It's only a
little after midnight, too," he added, looking at his watch, "Guess
I'll walk around a bit to rouse myself."

He firmly intended to do this, but he thought he would wait just a
few minutes more, and he stretched out his legs and got comfortable
in the chair.

Three minutes more and the watchman was asleep--sound asleep, while
a strange, sweet, sickish odor seemed to fill the atmosphere about
him.

There was a noise at the door of the shed, a door in which there
were several cracks. A man outside laid aside something that looked
like an air pump. He applied one eye to a crack, and looked in on
the sleeping watchman.

"He's off," the man murmured. "I thought he'd never get to sleep!
Now to get in and dose those two lads! Then I'll have the place to
myself!"

There was a clicking noise about the lock on the shed door. It was
not a very secure lock at best, and, under the skilful fingers of
the midnight visitor, it quickly gave way. The man entered. He gave
one look at the slumbering watchman, listened to his heavy
breathing, and then went softly toward the airship, which looked to
be immense in the comparatively small shed--taking up nearly all the
space.

The intruder peered in through the cabin windows where Ned and Tom
were asleep. Once more there was in the atmosphere a sickish odor.
The man again worked the instrument which was like a small air pump,
taking care not to get his own face too near it. Presently he
stopped and listened.

"They're doped," he murmured. He arose, and took from his mouth and
nose a handkerchief saturated with some chemical that had rendered
him immune to the effects of the sleep-producing that he had
generated. "Sound asleep," he added. Then, taking out a long, keen
knife, the vandal stole toward where the great wings of the RED
CLOUD stretched out in the dim light like the pinions of a bird.
There was a ripping, tearing, rending sound, as the vandal cut and
slashed, but Tom, Ned and the watchman slumbered on.

CHAPTER X

TOM IS HELD UP

Tom Swift stirred uneasily in his heavy sleep. He dreamed that he
was again in his berth in the railroad car, and that the thief was
feeling under his pillow for the map. Only, this time, there seemed
to be hands feeling about his clothing, trying to locate his inner
pockets.

The lad murmured something unintelligible, but he did not awaken.
The fumes prevented that. However, his movements showed that the
effect of the drug was wearing off. It was intended only for
temporary use, and it lasted less time than it would otherwise have
done in a warmer, moister climate, for the cold, crisp air that
penetrated the shed from outside dispelled the fumes.

"Guess I'd better not chance it," murmured the intruder. "He may not
have it on him. and if I go through all his pockets I'll wake him
up. Anyhow, I've done what they paid me for. I don't believe they'll
sail in this airship."

The vandal gave one glance at the sleeping lads, and stole from the
cabin of the craft. He looked at his work of ruin, and then tiptoed
past the slumbering watchman. A moment later and he was outside the
shed, hurrying away through the night.

Several hours after this Mr. Damon and the old miner were pounding
on the door of the shed. Mr. Parker, the scientist, had remained at
the hotel, for he said he wanted to work out a few calculations
regarding some of his theories.

"I thought we'd find them up by this time," spoke the eccentric man,
as he again knocked on the door. "Tom said he had lots to do to-
day."

"Maybe they are working inside, and can't hear our knocks,"
suggested Abe. "Try th' door."

"Bless my heart! I never thought of that," exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I
believe I will."

The door swung open as he pushed it, for it had not been locked when
the intruder left. The first thing Mr. Damon saw was the watchman,
still asleep in his chair.

"Bless my soul!" the old man shouted. "Look at this, Abe!"

"Something's wrong!" cried the miner, sniffing the air. "There's
been crooked work here! Where are the boys?"

Mr. Damon was close to the airship. He looked in the cabin window.

"Here they are, and they're both asleep, too!" he called. "And--
bless my eyeglasses! Look at the airship! The planes and wings are
all cut and slashed! Something has happened! The RED CLOUD is all
but ruined!"

Abe hastened to his side. He looked at the damage done, and a fierce
look came over his face.

"The Fogers again!" he murmured. "We'll pay 'em back for this! But
first we must see to the boys!"

They needed small attention, however. The opening of the big door
had let in a flood of fresh air, and this dispelled the last of the
fumes. The watchman was the first to revive. The sleep caused by the
chemical, sprayed from the air-pump by the vandal, had been
succeeded by a natural slumber, and this was the case with Ned and
Tom. They were soon aroused, and looked with wonder, not unmixed
with rage, at the work done in the night.

Every one of the principal planes of the airship, each of the
rudders, and some of the auxiliary wings had been cut by a sharp
knife--some in several places. The canvas hung in shreds and
patches, and the trim RED CLOUD looked like some old tramp airship
now. Tom could scarcely repress a groan.

"Who did it?" he gasped.

"And with us here on guard!" added Ned.

"I--I must have fallen asleep," admitted the watchman in confusion.

"You were all asleep," said Mr. Damon. "I couldn't rouse you!"

"And there was th' smell of chloroform, or something like it in th'
shed," added the miner.

"But look at the airship!" groaned Tom.

"Is it ruined--can't we go to the valley of gold?" asked Ned.

Tom did not answer for a few minutes. He was walking around looking
at his damaged craft. The sleepy feeling was rapidly leaving him, as
well as Ned and the watchman.

"Bless my watch chain!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "What an ugly, mean
piece of work. Can you repair it, Tom?"

"I think so," was the hesitating answer. "It is not as bad as I
feared at first. Luckily the gas-bag has not been touched, for, if
it had, we could hardly have repaired it. I can fix the wings and
the rudders. The propellers have not been damaged, nor has the motor
been touched. I think they must have made another attempt to take
the map off me," he went on, as he looked at several pockets that
had been turned inside out.

An examination of the door showed how the lock had been forced, and
the adventurers could easily guess the rest. But who the midnight
vandal was they could not tell, though Tom and the others were sure
it was some one hired by the Fogers.

"They wanted to delay us," said Tom. "They thought this would hold
us back, but it won't--for long. We'll get right to work, and make
new planes and rudders. Fortunately the framework isn't hurt any."

Once Tom got into action nothing held him back. He hardly wanted to
stop for meals. New canvas was ordered, and that very afternoon some
of the damaged wings had been repaired. In the meanwhile the stores
and provisions that had been ordered were arriving, and, under the
direction of the miner and Mr. Damon were put in the RED CLOUD. Tom
and Ned, with the help of a man they hired, worked diligently to
replace the damaged planes and rudders. Mr. Parker came out to the
airship shed, but he was of little use as a helper, for he was
continually stopping to jot down some memoranda about an observation
he thought of, or else he would lay aside his tools to go outside,
look at the weather, and make predictions.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10