TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS
V >>
Victor Appleton >> TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS
or
The Secret of Phantom Mountain
By
VICTOR APPLETON
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I A SUSPICIOUS JEWELER
II A MIDNIGHT VISIT
III A STRANGE STORY
IV ANDY FOGER GETS A FRIGHT
V A MYSTERIOUS MAN
VI MR. DAMON IS ON HAND
VII MR. PARKER PREDICTS
VIII OFF FOR THE WEST
IX A WARNING BY WIRELESS
X DROPPING THE STOWAWAY
XI A WEARY SEARCH
XII THE GREAT STONE HEAD
XIII ON PHANTOM MOUNTAIN
XIV WARNED BACK
XV THE LANDSLIDE
XVI THE VAST CAVERN
XVII THE PHANTOM CAPTURED
XVIII BILL RENSHAW WILL HELP
XIX IN THE SECRET CAVE
XX MAKING THE DIAMONDS
XXI FLASHING GEMS
XXII PRISONERS
XXIII BROKEN BONDS
XXIV IN GREAT PERIL
XXV THE MOUNTAIN SHATTERED--CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I--A SUSPICIOUS JEWELER
"Well, Tom Swift, I don't believe you will make any mistake if
you buy that diamond," said the jeweler to a young man who was
inspecting a tray of pins, set with the sparkling stones. "It is
of the first water, and without a flaw."
"It certainly seems so, Mr. Track. I don't know much about
diamonds, and I'm depending on you. But this one looks to be all
right."
"Is it for yourself, Tom?"
"Er--no--that is, not exactly," and Tom Swift, the young
inventor of airships and submarines, blushed slightly.
"Ah, I see. It's for your housekeeper, Mrs. Baggert. Well, I
think she would like a pin of this sort. True, it's rather
expensive, but--"
"No, it isn't for Mrs. Baggert, Mr. Track," and Tom seemed a
bit embarrassed.
"No? Well, then, Tom--of course it's none of my affair, except
to sell you a good stone, But if this brooch is for a young lady,
I can't recommend anything nicer. Do you think you will take
this; or do you prefer to look at some others?"
"Oh, I think this will do, Mr. Track. I guess I'll take--"
Tom's Words were interrupted by a sudden action on the part of
the jeweler. Mr. Track ran from behind the showcase and hastened
toward the front door.
"Did you see him, Tom?" he cried. "I wonder which way he went?"
"Who?" asked the lad, following the shopkeeper.
"That man. He's been walking up and down in front of my place
for the last ten minutes--ever since you've been in here, in
fact, and I don't like his looks."
"What did he do?"
"Nothing much, except to stare in here as if he was sizing my
place up."
"Sizing it up?"
"Yes. Getting the lay of the land, so he or some confederate
could commit a robbery, maybe."
"A robbery? Do you think that man was a thief?"
"I don't know that he was, Tom, and yet a jeweler has to be
always on the watch, and that isn't a joke, either, Tom Swift.
Swindlers and thieves are always on the alert for a chance to rob
a jewelry store, and they work many games."
"I didn't notice any particular man looking in here," said Tom,
who still held the diamond brooch in his hand.
"Well I did," went on the jeweler. "I happened to glance out of
the window when you were looking at the pins, and I saw his eyes
staring in here in a suspicious manner. He may have a confederate
with him, and, when you're gone, one may come in, and pretend to
want to look at some diamonds. Then, when I'm showing him some,
the other man will enter, engage my attention, and the first man
will slip out with a diamond ring or pin. It's often done."
"You seem to have it all worked out, Mr. Track," observed the
lad, with a smile. "How do you know but what I'm in with a gang
of thieves, and that I'm only pretending to want to buy a diamond
pin?"
"Oh, I guess I haven't known you, Tom Swift, ever since you
were big enough to toddle, not to be sure about what you're up
to. But I certainly didn't like the looks of that man. However,
let's forget about him. He seems to have gone down the street,
and, after all, perhaps I was mistaken. Just wait until I show
you a few more styles before you decide. The young lady may like
one of these," and the jeweler went to another showcase and took
out some more trays of brooches.
"What makes you think she's a young lady, Mr. Track?" asked the
lad.
"Oh, it's easy guessing, Tom. We jewelers are good readers of
character. I can size up a young fellow coming in here to buy an
engagement or a wedding ring, as soon as he enters the door. I
suppose you'll soon be in the market for one of those, Tom, if
all the reports I hear about you are true--you and a certain Mary
Nestor."
"I--er--I think I don't care for any of these pins," spoke Tom,
quickly, with a blush. "I like the first lot best. I think I'll
take the one I had in my hand when that man alarmed you. Ha!
That's odd! What did I do with it?"
Tom looked about on the showcase, and glanced down on the
floor. He had mislaid the brooch, but the jeweler, with a laugh,
lifted it out of a tray a moment later.
"I saw you lay it down," he said. "We jewelers have to be on
the watch. Here it is. I'll just put it in a box, and--"
With an exclamation, Mr. Track gave a hasty glance toward his
big show window. Tom looked up, and saw a man's face peering in.
At the sight of it, he, too, uttered a cry of surprise.
The next instant the man outside knocked on the glass,
apparently with a piece of metal, making a sharp sound. As soon
as he heard it, the jeweler once more sprang from behind the
showcase, and leaped for the door crying:
"There's the thief! He's trying to cut a hole through my show
window and reach in and get something! It's an old trick. I'll
get the police! Tom, you stay here on guard!" and before the lad
could utter a protest, the jeweler had opened the door, and was
speeding down the street in the gathering darkness.
Tom stared about him in some bewilderment. He was left alone in
charge of a very valuable stock of jewelry, the owner of which
was racing after a supposed thief, crying:
"Police! Help! Thieves! Stop him, somebody!"
"This is a queer go," mused Tom. "I wonder who that man was? He
looked like somebody I know, and yet I can't seem to place his
face. I wonder if he was trying to rob the placer Maybe there's
another one--a confederate--around here."
This thought rather alarmed Tom, so he went to the door, and
looked up and down the street. He could see no suspicious
characters, but in the direction in which the jeweler was running
there was a little throng of people, following Mr. Track after
the man who had knocked on the window.
"I wish I was there, instead of here," mused the lad. "Still I
can't leave, or a thief might come in. Perhaps that was the game,
and one of the gang is hanging around, hoping the store will be
deserted, so he can enter and take what he likes."
Tom had read of such cases, and he at once resolved that he
would not only remain in the jewelry shop, but that he would lock
the door, which he at once proceeded to do. Then he breathed
easier.
The town of Shopton, in the outskirts of which Tom lived with
his father, and where the scene above narrated took place, was
none too well lighted at night, and the lad had his doubts about
the jeweler catching the oddly-acting man, especially as the
latter had a good start.
"But some one may head him off," reasoned Tom. "Though if they
do catch him, I don't see what they can prove against him. Hello,
here I am carrying this diamond pin around. I might lose it.
Guess I'll put it back on the tray."
He replaced in the proper receptacle one of the pins he bad
been examining when the excitement occurred.
"I wonder if Mary will like that?" he said, softly. "I hope she
does. Perhaps it would be better if she could come here herself
and pick out one--"
Tom's musing was suddenly interrupted by a sharp tattoo on the
glass door of the jewelry shop. With a start, he looked up, to
see staring in on him the face of the man who had been there
before--the man of whom the jeweler was even then in chase.
"Why--why----" stammered Tom.
The man knocked again.
"Tom--Tom Swift!" he called. "Don't you know me?"
"Know you--you?" repeated the lad.
"Yes--don't you remember Earthquake Island--how we were nearly
killed there--don't you remember Mr. Jenks?"
"Mr. Jenks?"
Tom was so startled that he could only repeat words after the
strange man, who was talking to him from outside the glass door.
"Yes, Mr. Jenks," was the reply. "Mr. Barcoe Jenks, who makes
diamonds. I saw you in the store about to buy a diamond--I wanted
to tell you not to--I'll give you a better diamond than you can
buy--I just arrived in this place--I must have a private talk
with you--Come out--I'll share a wonderful secret with you."
A flood of memory came to Tom. He did recall the very strange
man who walked around Earthquake Island--where Tom and some
friends had been marooned recently--walked about with a pocketful
of what he said were diamonds. Now Barcoe Jenks was here.
"I must see you privately, Tom Swift," went on Mr. Jenks, as he
once more tapped on the glass. "Don't waste money buying
diamonds, when you and I can make better ones. Where can I have a
talk with you? I--" Mr. Jenks suddenly looked down the dimly-lighted
street. "They're coming back!" he cried. "I don't want to
be seen. I'll call at your house later to-night--be on the watch
for me--until then--good-by!"
He waved his hand, and was gone in an instant. Tom stood
staring at the glass door. He hardly knew whether to believe it
or not--perhaps it was all a dream.
He pinched himself to make sure that he was awake. Very
substantial flesh met his thumb and finger, and he felt the pain.
"I'm awake all right," he murmured. "But Barcoe Jenks here--and
still talking that nonsense about his manufactured diamonds. I
think he must be crazy. I wonder--"
Once more the lad's musing was interrupted. He heard a murmur
of excited voices outside the store, on the street. Then the door
of the jewelry shop was tried. Mr. Track's face was pressed
against the glass.
"Open the door! Let me in, Tom!" he called. "I've caught the
thief," and as the lad unlocked the portal he saw that the
jeweler held by the arm a ragged lad. "Ah; you scoundrel! I've
caught you!" cried the diamond merchant, shaking the small chap,
while Tom looked on, more mystified than ever.
CHAPTER II--A MIDNIGHT VISIT
While Mr. Track, the jeweler, and several citizens, attracted
by the chase after the supposed thief, are crowded into the
store, anxious to hear explanations of the strange affair, I will
take the opportunity to tell you something of Tom Swift, the lad
who is to figure in this story.
Many of you have already made his acquaintance, when he has
been speeding about in his airship or fast electric runabout, and
to others we will state that our hero first made his bow to the
public in the book called "Tom Swift and His Motor-Cycle," the
initial volume of this series.
In that story there was related how Tom made the acquaintance
of an odd individual, named Mr. Wakefield Damon, who was
continually blessing himself, some part of his anatomy, or his
possessions. Mr. Damon was riding a motor-cycle, and it started
to climb a tree, to his pain and fright. Afterward Tom purchased
the machine, and had many adventures on it, including a chase
after a gang of men who had stolen a valuable patent model
belonging to Mr. Swift.
Mr. Swift, and his son were both inventors. They lived together
in a fine house in the suburbs of Shopton, New York, and with
them dwelt Mrs. Baggert, the housekeeper (for Tom's mother was
dead), and also Garret Jackson, an expert engineer, who aided the
young inventor and his father in perfecting many machines.
There was also another semi-member of the household, to wit,
Eradicate Sampson, an eccentric colored man, who owned a mule
called Boomerang. Eradicate did odd jobs around the place, and
the mule assisted his owner--that is when the mule felt like it.
In the second volume of the series, entitled "Tom Swift and His
Motor-Boat," there was related the incidents following a pursuit
after a gang of unprincipled men, who sought to get Possession of
some of Mr. Swift's patents, and it was while in this boat that
Tom, his father, and a friend, Ned Newton, rescued from Lake
Carlopa a Mr. John Sharp, who fell from his burning balloon. Mr.
Sharp was a skilled aeronaut, and after his recovery he joined
Tom in building a big airship, called the Red Cloud. Tom's
adventures in this craft are set down in detail in the third
volume of the series, called "Tom Swift and His Airship." Not
only did he and Mr. Sharp and Mr. Damon make a great trip, but
they captured some bank robbers, and incidentally cleared
themselves from the imputation of having looted the vault of
seventy-five thousand dollars, which charge was fostered by a
certain Mr. Foger, and his son Andy, who was Tom's enemy.
Not satisfied with having conquered the air, Tom and his father
set to work to gain a victory over the ocean. They built a boat
that could navigate under water, and, in the fourth book of the
series, called "Tom Swift and His Submarine Boat," you will find
an account of how they went under the ocean to secure a sunken
treasure, and the fight they had with their enemies who sought to
get it away from them. They went through many perils, not the
least of which was capture by a foreign warship.
In the fifth book, entitled "Tom Swift and His Electric
Runabout," there was told the story of a wonderfully speedy
electric automobile the young inventor constructed, and how he
made a great race in it, and saved from ruin a bank, in which his
father and Mr. Damon were interested.
Tom's ability as an inventor had, by this time, become well
known. One day, as related in a volume called "Tom Swift and His
Wireless Message," he received a letter from a Mr. Hosmer
Fenwick, of Philadelphia, asking his aid in perfecting an airship
which the resident of the Quaker City had built, but which would
not work. In his small monoplane, the Butterfly, Tom and Mr.
Damon went to Philadelphia, as Mr. Damon was acquainted with Mr.
Fenwick.
Tom carefully inspected the Whizzer which was the name of Mr.
Fenwick's airship, and, after some difficulties, succeeded in
getting the electric craft in shape to make a flight.
Tom, Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick started to make a trip to Cape
May in the Whizzer, but were caught in a terrific storm, and
blown out to sea. The wind became a hurricane, the airship was
disabled, and wrecked in mid-air. When it fell to earth it landed
on one of the small West Indian islands, but what was the terror
of the three castaways to find that the island was subject to
earthquake shocks.
But the earth-tremors were not the only surprise in store for
Tom and his two friends, On the island they found five men and
two ladies, who, by strange chance, had been stranded there when
the yacht Resolute, owned by Mr. George Hosbrook, was wrecked in
the same storm that disabled the airship. Mr. Hosbrook, a
millionaire, was taking a party of friends to the West Indies.
When the castaways (among whom were Mr. and Mrs. Amos Nestor,
parents of Mary Nestor, a girl of whom Tom was very fond) found
that there was danger of the island being destroyed in an
earthquake, they were in despair. There seemed no way of being
rescued, as the island was out of the line of regular ship
travel.
Tom, however, was resourceful. With the electrical apparatus
from the wrecked airship, he built a wireless plant, and sent
messages for help, broadcast over the ocean.
They were finally heard, and answered, by an operator on board
the steamer Camberanian, which came on under forced draught, and
rescued Tom and his friends. It was only just in time, for, no
sooner had they gotten aboard the steamer in lifeboats, than the
whole island was destroyed by an earthquake shock.
But Tom, the parents of Mary Nestor, Mr. Damon, Mr. Fenwick,
and all the others, got safely home. Among the survivors from the
yacht Resolute was a Mr. Barcoe Jenks, who now, most unexpectedly,
had confronted Tom through the glass window of the jewelry
store. Mr. Jenks was a peculiar man. Tom discovered this on Earthquake
Island. Mr. Jenks carried with him some stones which he said were
diamonds. He asserted that he had made them, but Tom did not know
whether or not to believe this.
When it seemed that the castaways would not be saved Mr. Jenks
offered Tom a large sum in these same diamonds for some plan
whereby he might escape the earthquakes. Mr. Jenks said there was
a certain secret in connection with the manufactured diamonds
that he had to solve--that he had been defrauded of his rights--and
that a certain Phantom Mountain figured in it. But Tom, at that time,
paid little attention to Mr. Jenks' talk. The time was to come,
however, when he would attach much importance to it.
When this story opens, Tom was more interested in Mr. Barcoe
Jenks than in any one else, and was wondering what he wanted to
see him about. The young inventor could not quite understand how
Mr. Track, the jeweler, could come back with a lad he suspected
of being a thief, when the person who had acted so suspiciously,
and who had knocked on the glass, was the queer man, Mr. Jenks.
"Yes, Tom I caught him," the jeweler went on. "I chased after
him, and nabbed him. It was hard work, too, for I'm not a good
runner. Now, you little rascal, tell me why you tried to rob my
store?" and the diamond merchant shook the lad roughly.
"I--I didn't try to rob your store," was the timid answer.
"Well, perhaps you didn't, exactly, but your confederates did.
Why did you rap on the glass, and why were you staring in so
intently?"
"I wasn't lookin' in."
"Well, if it wasn't you, it was some one just like you. But why
did you run when I raced down the street?"
"I--I don't know," and the lad began to snivel. "I--I jest ran--that's
all--'cause I see everybody else runnin', an' I thought
there was a fire."
"Ha! That's a likely story! You ran because you are guilty! I'm
going to hand you over to the police."
"Did he get anything, Mr. Track?" asked one of the men who had
joined the jeweler in the chase.
"No, I can't say that he did. He didn't get a chance. Tom Swift
was in here at the time. But this fellow was only waiting for a
chance to steal, or else to aid his confederates."
"But, if he didn't take anything, I don't see how you can have
him arrested," went on the man.
"On suspicion; that's how!" asserted Mr. Track. "Will some one
get me a constable?"
"I wouldn't call a constable," said Tom, quietly.
"Why not?"
"Because that isn't the person who looked in your window."
"How do you know, Tom?"
"Because that person came back while you were out. I saw him."
"You saw him? Did he try to steal any of my diamonds, Tom?"
"No, I guess he doesn't need any."
"Why not?" There was wonder in the jeweler's tone.
"Why, he claims he can make all he wants."
"Make diamonds?"
"So he says."
"Why, he must be crazy!" and Mr. Track laughed.
"Perhaps he is," admitted Tom, "I'm only telling you what he
says. He's the person who acted so suspiciously. He came back
here, I'm telling you, while you were running down the street,
and spoke to me."
"Oh, then you know him?" The jeweler's voice was suspicious.
"I didn't at first," admitted Tom. "But when he said he was Mr.
Barcoe Jenks, I remembered that I had met him when I was cast
away on Earthquake Island."
"And he says he can make diamonds?" asked Mr. Track.
"What did he want of you?" and the jeweler looked at Tom,
quizzically.
"He wanted to have a talk with me," replied the lad, "and when
he saw me in your store, he tried to attract my attention by
knocking on the glass."
"That's a queer way to do," declared Mr. Track. "What did he
want?"
"I don't know exactly," answered Tom, not caring to go into
details just then. "But I'm sure, Mr. Track, that you've got the
wrong person there. That lad never looked in the window, nor
knocked on the glass."
"That's right--I didn't," asserted the captive.
The jeweler looked doubtful.
"Why did you run?" he asked.
"I told you, I thought there was a fire."
"That's right, I don't believe he's the fellow you want," put
in another man. "I was standing on the corner, near White's
grocery store, and I noticed this lad. That was before I heard
you yelling, and saw you coming, and then I joined in the chase.
I guess the man you were after got away, Track."
"He did," asserted Tom. "He came back here, a little while ago,
and he ran away just now, as he heard you coming."
"Where did he go?" asked the jeweler, eagerly.
"I don't know," answered Tom. "Only you've got the wrong lad
here."
"Well, perhaps I have," admitted the diamond merchant. "You can
go, youngster, but next time, don't run if you're not guilty."
"I thought there was a fire," repeated the lad, as he hurriedly
slipped through the crowd in the store, and disappeared down the
dark street.
"Well, I guess the excitement's all over, and, anyhow, you
weren't robbed, Track," said a stout man, as he left the store.
The others soon followed, and Tom and the jeweler were once more
alone in the shop.
"Can you tell me something about this man, Tom?" asked Mr.
Track, eagerly. "So he really makes diamonds. Who is he?"
"I'd rather not tell--just now," replied the young inventor. "I
don't take much stock in him, myself. I think he's visionary. He
may think he has made diamonds, and he may have made some stones
that look like them. I'm very skeptical."
"If you could bring me some, Tom, I could soon tell whether
they were real or not. Can you?"
The lad shook his head.
"I don't expect to see Mr. Jenks again," he said. "He talked
rather wildly about waiting to meet me, but that man is odd--crazy,
perhaps--and I don't imagine I'll see him. He's harmless,but he's
eccentric. Well, there was quite some excitement for a time."
"I should say there was. I thought it was a plan to rob me,"
and the jeweler began putting away the diamond pins. In fact, the
excitement so filled the minds of himself and Tom that neither of
them thought any more of the object of the lad's visit, and the
young inventor departed without purchasing the pin he had come after.
It was not until he was out on the street, walking toward his
home, that the matter came back to his mind.
"I declare!" he exclaimed. "I didn't get that pin for Mary,
after all! Well, never mind, I have a week until her birthday,
and I can get it to-morrow."
He walked rapidly toward home, for the weather looked
threatening, and Tom had no umbrella. He was musing on the
happenings of the evening when he reached his house. His father
was out, as was Garret Jackson, the engineer; and Mrs. Baggert,
the housekeeper, was entertaining a lady in the sitting-room, so,
as Tom was rather tired, he went directly to his own room, and, a
little later got into bed.
It was shortly after midnight when he was awakened by hearing a
rattling on the window of his room. The reason he was able to fix
the time so accurately was because as soon as he awakened he
pressed a little electric button, and it illuminated the face of
a small clock on his bureau. The hands pointed to five minutes
past twelve.
"Humph! That sounds like hail!" exclaimed Tom, as he arose, and
looked out of the casement. "I wonder if any of the skylights of
the airship shed are open? There might be some damage. Guess I'd
better go out and take a look."
He had mentally reasoned this far before he had looked out, and
when he saw that the moon was brightly shining in a clear sky, he
was a bit surprised.
"Why--that wasn't hail," he murmured. "It isn't even raining. I
wonder what it was?"
He was answered a moment later, for a shower of fine gravel
from the walk flew up and clattered against the glass. With a
start, Tom looked down, and saw a dark figure standing under an
apple tree.
"Hello! Who's there?" called the lad, after he had raised the
sash.
"It's I--Mr. Jenks," was the surprising answer.
"Mr. Jenks?" repeated Tom.
"Yes--Barcoe Jenks, of Earthquake Island."
"You here? What do you want?"
"Can you come down?"
"What for?"
"Tom Swift, I've something very important to tell you," was the
answer in a low voice, yet which carried to Tom's ears perfectly.
"Do you want to make a fortune for yourself--and for me?"
"How?" Tom was beginning to think more and more that Mr. Jenks
was crazy.
"How? By helping me to discover the secret of Phantom Mountain,
where the diamonds are made! Will you?"
"Wait a minute--I'll come down," answered Tom, and he began to
grope for his clothes in the dim light of the little electric
lamp.
What was the secret of Phantom Mountain? What did Mr. Jenks
really want? Could he make diamonds? Tom asked himself these
questions as he hastily dressed to go down to his midnight
visitor.
CHAPTER III--A STRANGE STORY
"Well, Mr. Jenks," began Tom, when he had descended to the
garden, and greeted the man who had acted so strangely on
Earthquake Island, "this is rather an odd time for a visit."
"I realize that, Tom Swift," was the answer, and the lad
noticed that the man spoke much more calmly than he had that
evening at the jewelry shop. "I realize that, but I have to be
cautious in my movements."
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10