Tom Swift And His Big Tunnel
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Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift And His Big Tunnel
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10 TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL
or
The Hidden City of the Andes
by
Victor Appleton
CONTENTS
I An Appeal for Aid
II Explanations
III A Face at the Window
IV Tom's Experiments
V Mary's Present
VI Mr. Nestor's Letter
VII Off for Peru
VIII The Bearded Man
IX The Bomb
X Professor Bumper
XI In the Andes
XII The Tunnel
XIII Tom's Explosive
XIV Mysterious Disappearances
XV Frightened Indians
XVI On the Watch
XVII The Condor
XVIII The Indian Strike
XIX A Woman Tells
XX Despair
XXI A New Explosive
XXII The Fight
XXIII A Great Blast
XXIV The Hidden City
XXV Success
TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL
Chapter I
An Appeal for Aid
Tom Swift, seated in his laboratory engaged in trying to
solve a puzzling question that had arisen over one of his
inventions, was startled by a loud knock on the door. So
emphatic, in fact, was the summons that the door trembled,
and Tom started to his feet in some alarm.
"Hello there!" he cried. "Don't break the door, Koku!" and
then he laughed. "No one but my giant would knock like
that," he said to himself. "He never does seem able to do
things gently. But I wonder why he is knocking. I told him
to get the engine out of the airship, and Eradicate said
he'd be around to answer the telephone and bell. I wonder if
anything has happened?"
Tom shoved back his chair, pushed aside the mass of papers
over which he had been puzzling, and strode to the door.
Flinging it open he confronted a veritable giant of a man,
nearly eight feet tall, and big in proportion. The giant,
Koku, for that was his name, smiled in a good-natured way,
reminding one of an overgrown boy.
"Master hear my knock?" the giant asked cheerfully.
"Hear you, Koku? Say, I couldn't hear anything else!"
exclaimed Tom. "Did you think you had to arouse the whole
neighborhood just to let me know you were at the door? Jove!
I thought you'd have it off the hinges."
"If me break, me fix," said Koku, who, from his appearance
and from his imperfect command of English, was evidently a
foreigner.
"Yes, I know you can fix lots of things, Koku," Tom went
on, kindly enough. "But you musn't forget what enormous
strength you have. That's the reason I sent you to take the
engine out of the airship. You can lift it without using the
chain hoist, and I can't get the chain hoist fast unless I
remove all the superstructure. I don't want to do that. Did
you get the engine out?"
"Not quite. Almost, Master."
"Then why are you here? Has anything gone wrong?"
"No, everything all right, Master. But man come to
machine shop and say he must have talk with you. I no let
him come past the gate, but I say I come and call you."
"That's right, Koku. Don't let any strangers past the
gate. But why didn't Eradicate come and call me. He isn't
doing anything, is he? Unless, indeed, he has gone to feed
his mule, Boomerang."
"Eradicate, he come to call you, but that black man no
good!" and Koku chuckled so heartily that he shook the floor
of the office.
"What's the matter with Eradicate?" asked Tom, somewhat
anxiously. "I hope you and he haven't had another row?"
Eradicate had served Tom and his father long before Koku,
the giant, had been brought back from one of the young
inventor's many strange trips, and ever since then there had
been a jealous rivalry between the twain as to who should
best serve Tom.
"No trouble, Master," said Koku. "Eradicate he start to
come and tell you strange man want to have talk, but
Eradicate he no come fast enough. So I pick him up, and I
set him down by gate to stand on guard, and I come to tell
you. Koku come quick!"
"Oh, I knew it must be something like that!" exclaimed Tom
in some vexation. "Now I'll have Eradicate complaining to me
that you mauled him. Picked him up and set him down again."
"Sure. One hand!" boasted the giant. "Eradicate him not be
heavy. More as a sack of flour now."
"No, poor Eradicate is getting pretty old and thin,"
commented Tom. "He can't move very quickly. But you should
have let him come, Koku. It makes him feel badly when he
thinks he can't be of service to me any more."
"Man say he in hurry." The giant spoke softly, as though
he felt the gentle rebuke Tom administered. "Koku run quick
tell you--bang on door."
"Yes, you banged all right, Koku. Well, it can't be
helped, I reckon. Where is this strange man? Who is he? Did
you ever see him before?"
"Me no can tell, Master. Not sure. But him now be at the
outer gate. Eradicate watch."
"All right. I'll go and see who it is. I don't want any
strangers poking around here, especially with the plans of
my new gyroscope lying in plain view."
Before he left the laboratory Tom swept into a desk drawer
the mass of papers and blue prints, and locked the
receptacle.
"No use taking any chances," he remarked. "I've had too
much trouble with people trying to get inside information
about dad's and my patents. Now, Koku, I'll go and see this
man."
The buildings composing the plant of Tom Swift and his
father at Shopton were enclosed by a high, board fence, and
at one of the entrances was a sort of gate-house, where some
one was always on guard. Only those who could give a good
account of themselves, workmen in the plant, or those known
to the sentinel were admitted.
It happened that the colored man, Eradicate, was on guard
at the gates this day when the stranger asked to see Tom.
Koku, working on the airship engine not far away, saw the
stranger. Hearing the man say he was in a hurry and noting
the slow progress of the aged Eradicate, who was troubled
with rheumatism, the giant took matters into his own hands.
Tom Swift entered the gate-house and saw, seated in a
chair, a man who was impatiently tapping the floor with his
thick-soled shoe.
"Looks like a detective or a policeman in disguise,"
thought Tom, for, almost invariably, members of this
profession wear very thick-soled shoes. Opposite the
stranger sat Eradicate, a much-injured look on his honest,
black face.
"Oh, Massa Tom!" exclaimed Eradicate, as soon as the young
inventor entered. "Dat Koku he--he--he done gone and cotch
me by de collar ob mah coat, an' den he lif' me up, an' he
sot me down so hard--so hard--dat he jar loose all mah back
teef!" and Eradicate opened his mouth wide to display his
gleaming ivories.
"Eradicate, he no can come quick. He walk like so
fashion!" and Koku, who had followed the young inventor,
imitated the limping gait of the colored man with such a
queer effect that Tom could not help laughing, and the
stranger smiled.
"Ef I gits holt on yo'--ef I does, yo' great, big,
overgrown lummox, Ah'll--Ah'll--" began the colored man,
stammeringly.
"There. That will do now!" interrupted Tom. "Don't quarrel
in here. Koku, get back to that engine and lift out the
motor. Eradicate, didn't father tell you to whitewash the
chicken coops to-day?"
"Dat's what he done, Massa Tom."
"Well, go and see about that. I'll stay here for a while,
and when I leave I'll call one of you, or some one else, to
be on guard. Skip now!"
Having thus disposed of the warring factions, Tom turned
to the stranger and after apologizing for the little
interruption, asked:
"You wished to see me?"
"If you're Tom Swift; yes."
"Well, I'm Tom Swift," and the young owner of the name
smiled.
"I hope you will pardon a stranger for calling on you,"
resumed the man, "but I'm in a lot of trouble, and I think
you are the only one who can help me out."
"What sort of trouble?" Tom inquired.
"Contracting trouble--tunnel blasting, to be exact. But if
you have a few minutes to spare perhaps you will listen to
my story. You will then be better able to understand my
difficulty."
Tom Swift considered a moment. He was used to having
appeals for help made to him, and usually they were of a
begging nature. He was often asked for money to help some
struggling inventor complete his machine.
In many cases the machines would have been of absolutely
no use if perfected. In other cases the inventions were of
the utterly hopeless class, incapable of perfection, like
some perpetual motion apparatus. In these cases Tom turned a
deaf ear, though if the inventor were in want our hero
relieved him.
But this case did not seem to be like anything Tom had
ever met with before.
"Contracting trouble--blasting," repeated the youth, as he
mused over what he had heard.
"That's it," the man went on. "Permit me to introduce
myself" and he held out a card, on which was the name
MR. JOB TITUS
Down in the lower left-hand corner was a line:
"Titus Brothers, Contractors."
"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Titus," Tom said warmly,
offering his hand. "I don't know anything about the
contracting business, but if you do blasting I suppose you
use explosives, and I know a little about them."
"So I have heard, and that's why I came to you," the
contractor went on. "Now if you'll give me a few minutes of
your time--"
"You had better come up to the house," interrupted Tom.
"We can talk more quietly there."
Calling a young fellow who was at work near by to occupy
the gate-house, Tom led Mr. Titus toward the Swift
homestead, and, a little later, ushered him into the
library.
"Now I'll listen to you," the youth said, "though I can't
promise to aid you."
"I realize that," returned Mr. Titus. "This is a sort of
last chance I'm taking. My brother and I have heard a lot
about you, and when he wrote to me that he was unable to
proceed with his contract of tunneling the Andes Mountains
for the Peruvian government, I made up my mind you were the
one who could help us if you would."
"Tunneling the Andes Mountains!" exclaimed Tom.
"Yes. The firm represented by my brother and myself have a
contract to build a railroad for the Peruvian government. At
a point some distance back in the district east of Lima,
Peru, we are making a tunnel under the mountain. That is, we
have it started, but now we can't advance any further."
"Why not?"
"Because of the peculiar character of the rock, which
seems to defy the strongest explosive we can get. Now I
understand you used a powder in your giant cannon that--"
Mr. Titus paused in his explanation, for at that moment
there arose such a clatter out on the front piazza as
effectually to drown conversation. There was a noise of the
hoofs of a horse, the fall of a heavy body, a tattoo on the
porch floor and then came an excited shout:
"Whoa there! Whoa! Stop! Look out where you're kicking!
Bless my saddle blanket! Ouch! There I go!"
Chapter II
Explanations
"What in the world is that?" cried Mr. Job Titus, in alarm.
Tom Swift did not answer. Instead he jumped up from his
chair and ran toward the front door. Mr. Titus followed.
They both saw a strange sight.
Standing on the front porch, which he seemed to occupy
completely, was a large horse, with a saddle twisted
underneath him. The animal was looking about him as calmly
as though he always made it a practice to come up on the
front piazza when stopping at a house.
Off to one side, with a crushed hat on the back of his
head, with a coat split up the back, with a broken riding
crop in one hand and a handkerchief in the other, sat a
dignified, elderly gentleman.
That is, he would have been dignified had it not been for
his position and condition. No gentleman can look dignified
with a split coat and a crushed hat on, sitting under the
nose of a horse on a front piazza, with his raiment
otherwise much disheveled, while he wipes his scratched and
bleeding face with a handkerchief.
"Bless my--bless my--" began the elderly gentleman, and he
seemed at a loss what particular portion of his anatomy or
that of the horse, to bless, or what portion of the universe
to appeal to, for he ended up with: "Bless everything, Tom
Swift!"
"I heartily agree with you, Mr. Damon!" cried Tom. "But
what in the world happened?"
"That!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, pointing with his broken crop
at the horse on the piazza. "I was riding him when he ran
away--just as my motorcycle tried to climb a tree. No more
horses for me! I'll stick to airships," and slamming his
riding crop down on the porch floor with such force that the
horse started back, Mr. Damon arose, painfully enough if the
contortions on his face and his grunts of pain went for
anything.
"Let me help you!" begged Tom, striding forward. "Mr.
Titus, perhaps you will kindly lead the horse down off the
piazza?"
"Certainly!" answered the tunnel contractor. "Whoa now!"
he called soothingly, as the steed evinced a disposition to
sit down on the side railing. "Steady now!"
The horse finally allowed himself to be led down the broad
front steps, sadly marking them, as well as the floor of the
piazza, with his sharp shoes.
"Ouch! Oh, my back!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, as Tom helped
him to stand up.
"Is it hurt?" asked Tom, anxiously.
"No, I've just got what old-fashioned folks call a 'crick'
in it," explained the elderly horseman. "But it feels more
like a river than a 'crick.' I'll be all right presently."
"How did it happen?" asked Tom, as he led his guest toward
the hall. Meanwhile Mr. Titus, wondering what it was all
about, had tied the horse to a post out near the street
curb, and had re-entered the library.
"I was riding over to see you, Tom, to ask you if you
wouldn't go to South America with me," began Mr. Damon,
rubbing his leg tenderly.
"South America?" cried Tom, with a sudden look at Mr.
Titus.
"Yes, South America. Why, there isn't anything strange in
that, is there? You've been to wilder countries, and
farther away than that."
"Yes, I know--it's just a coincidence. Go on."
"Let me get where I can sit down," begged Mr. Damon. "I
think that crick in my back is running down into my legs,
Tom. I feel a bit weak. Let me sit down, and get me a glass
of water. I shall be all right presently."
Between them Tom and Mr. Titus assisted the horseman into
an easy chair, and there, under the influence of a cup of
hot tea, which Mrs. Baggert, the housekeeper, insisted on
making for him, he said he felt much better, and would
explain the reason for his call which had culminated in such
a sensational manner.
And while Mr. Damon is preparing his explanation I will
take just a few moments to acquaint my new readers with some
facts about Tom Swift, and the previous volumes of this
series in which he has played such prominent parts.
Tom Swift was the son of an inventor, and not only
inherited his father's talents, but had greatly added to
them, so that now Tom had a wonderful reputation.
Mr. Swift was a widower, and he and Tom lived in a big
house in Shopton, New York State, with Mrs. Baggert for a
housekeeper. About the house, from time to time, shops and
laboratories had been erected, until now there was a large
and valuable establishment belonging to Tom and his father.
The first volume of this series is entitled, "Tom Swift
and His Motor Cycle." It was through a motor cycle that Tom
became acquainted with Mr. Wakefield Damon, who lived in a
neighboring town. Mr. Damon had bought the motor cycle for
himself, but, as he said, one day in riding it the machine
tried to climb a tree near the Swift house.
The young inventor (for even then he was working on
several patents) ministered to Mr. Damon, who, disgusted
with the motor cycle, and wishing to reward Tom, let the
young fellow have the machine.
Tom's career began from that hour. For he learned to ride
the motor cycle, after making some improvements in it, and
from then on the youth had led a busy life. Soon afterward
he secured a motor boat and from that it was but a step to
an airship.
The medium of the air having been conquered, Tom again
turned his attention to the water, or rather, under the
water, and he and his father made a submarine. Then he built
an electric runabout, the speediest car on the road.
It was when Ton Swift had occasion to send his wireless
message from a lonely island where he had been shipwrecked
that he was able to do Mr. and Mrs. Nestor a valuable
service, and this increased the regard which Miss Mary
Nestor felt for the young inventor, a regard that bid fair,
some day, to ripen into something stronger.
Tom Swift might have made a fortune when he set out to
discover the secret of the diamond makers. But Fate
intervened, and soon after that quest he went to the caves
of ice, where he and his friends met with disaster. In his
sky racer Tom broke all records for speed, and when he went
to Africa to rescue a missionary, had it not been for his
electric rifle the tide of battle would have gone against
him and his party.
Marvelous, indeed, were the adventures underground, which
came to Tom when he went to look for the city of gold, but
the treasure there was not more valuable than the platinum
which Tom sought in dreary Siberia by means of his air
glider.
Tom thought his end had come when he fell into captivity
among the giants; but even that turned out well, and he
brought two of the giants away with him. Koku, one of the
two giants, became devotedly attached to the lad, much to
the disgust of Eradicate Sampson, the old negro who had
worked for the Swifts for a generation, and who, with his
mule Boomerang, "eradicated" from the place as much dirt as
possible.
With his wizard camera Tom did much to advance the cause
of science. His great searchlight was of great help to the
United States government in putting a stop to the Canadian
smugglers, while his giant cannon was a distinct advance in
ordnance, not excepting the great German guns used in the
European war.
When Tom perfected his photo telephone the last objection
to rendering telephonic conversation admissible evidence in
a law court was done away with, for by this invention a
person was able to see, as well as to hear, over the
telephone wire. One practically stood face to face with the
person, miles away, to whom one was talking.
The volume immediately preceding this present one is
called: "Tom Swift and His Aerial Warship." The young
inventor perfected a marvelous aircraft that was the naval
terror of the seas, and many governments, recognizing what
an important part aircraft were going to play in all future
conflicts, were anxious to secure Tom's machine. But he was
true to his own country, though his rivals were nearly
successful in their plots against him.
The Mars, which was the name of Tom's latest craft, proved
to be a great success, and the United States government
purchased it. It was not long after the completion of this
transaction that the events narrated in the first chapter of
this book took place.
Mr. Damon and Tom had been firm friends ever since the
episode of the motor cycle, and the eccentric gentleman (who
blessed so many things) often went with Tom on his trips.
Besides Mary Nestor, Tom had other friends. The one, after
Miss Nestor, for whom he cared most (if we except Mr. Damon)
was Ned Newton, who was employed in a Shopton bank. Ned also
had often gone with Tom, though lately, having a better
position, he had less time to spare.
"Well, do you feel better, Mr. Damon?" asked Tom, after a
bit.
"Yes, very much, thank you. Bless my pen wiper! but I
thought I was done for when I saw my horse bolt for your
front stoop. He rushed up it, fell down, but, fortunately, I
managed to get out of his way, though the saddle girth
slipped. And all I could think of was that my wife would
say: 'I told you so!' for she warned me not to ride this
animal.
"But he never ran away with me before, and I was in a
hurry to get over to see you, Tom. Now then, let's get down
to business. Will you go to South America with me?"
"Whereabout in South America are you going, Mr. Damon, and
why?" Tom asked.
"To Peru, Tom."
"What a coincidence!" exclaimed Mr. Titus.
"I beg your pardon?" said Mr. Damon, interrogatively.
"I said what a coincidence. I am going there myself."
"Excuse me," interposed Tom, "I don't believe, in the
excitement of the moment, I introduced you gentlemen. Allow
me--Mr. Damon--Mr. Titus."
The presentation over, Mr. Damon went on:
"You see, Tom, I have lately invested considerable money
in a wholesale drug concern. We deal largely in Peruvian
remedies, principally the bark of the cinchona tree, from
which quinine is made. Of late there has been some trouble
over our concession from the Peruvian government, and the
company has decided to send me down there to investigate.
"Of course, as soon as I made up my mind to go I thought
of you. So I came over to see if you would not accompany me.
All went well until I reached your front gate. Then my horse
became frightened by a yellow toy balloon some boy was
blowing up in the street and bolted with me. I suppose if it
had been a red or green balloon the effect would have been
the same. However, here I am, somewhat the worse for wear.
Now Tom, what do you say? Will you go to South America--to
Peru--with me, and help look up this Quinine business?"
Once more Mr. Titus and Tom looked at each other.
Chapter III
A Face at the Window
"What is the matter?" asked Mr. Damon, catching the glance
between Tom and the contractor. "Is there anything wrong
with South America--Peru? I know they have lots of
revolutions in those countries, but I don't believe Peru is
what they call a 'banana republic'; is it?"
"No," and Mr. Titus shook his head. "It isn't a question
of revolutions."
"But it's something!" insisted Mr. Damon. "Bless my ink
bottle! but it's something. As soon as I mention Peru, Tom,
you and Mr. Titus eye each other as if I'd said something
dreadful. Out with it! What is it?"
"It's just--just a coincidence," Tom said. "But go on, Mr.
Damon. Finish what you have to say and then we'll explain."
"Well, I guess I've told you all you need to know for the
present. I went into this wholesale drug concern, hoping to
make some money, but now, on account of the trouble down in
Peru, we stand to lose considerable unless I can get back
the cinchona concession."
"What does that mean?" Tom asked.
"Well, it means that our concern secured from the Peruvian
government the right to take this quinine-producing bark
from the trees in a certain tropical section. But there has
been a change in the government in the district where our
men were working, and now the privilege, or concession, has
been withdrawn. I'm going down to see if I can't get it
back. And I want you to go with me."
"And I came here for very nearly the same thing," went on
Mr. Titus. "That is where the coincidence comes in. It is
strange that we should both appeal to Mr. Swift at the same
time."
"Well, Tom's a valuable helper!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I
know him of old, for I've been on many a trip with him."
"This is the first time I have had the pleasure of meeting
him," resumed the tunnel contractor, "but I have heard of
him. I did not ask him to go to South America for us. I only
wanted to get some superior explosive for my brother, who is
in charge of driving the railroad tunnel through a spur of
the Andes. I look after matters up North here, but I may
have to go to Peru myself.
"As I told Mr. Swift, I had read of his invention of the
giant cannon and the special powder he used in it to send a
projectile such a distance. The cannon is now mounted as one
of the pieces of ordnance for the defense of the Panama
Canal, is it not?" he asked Tom.
The young inventor nodded in assent.
"Having heard of you, and the wonderful explosive used in
your big cannon," the contractor went on, "I wrote to my
brother that I would try and get some for him.
"You see," he resumed, "this is the situation. Back in the
Andes Mountains, a couple of hundred miles east of Lima, the
government is building a short railroad line to connect two
others. If this is done it will mean that the products of
Peru--quinine bark, coffee, cocoa, sugar, rubber, incense
and gold can more easily be transported. But to connect the
two railroad lines a big tunnel must be constructed.
"My brother and I make a specialty of such work, and when
we saw bids advertised for, our firm put in an estimate.
There was some trouble with a rival firm, which also bid,
but we secured the contract, and bound ourselves to have the
tunnel finished within a certain time, or forfeit a large
sum.
"That was over a year ago. Since then our men, aided by
the native Indians of Peru, have been tunneling the
mountain, until, about a month back, we struck a snag."
"What sort of snag?" Tom asked.
"A snag in the shape of extra hard rock," replied the
tunnel contractor. "Briefly, Paleozoic rocks make up the
eastern part of the Andean Mountains in Peru, while the
western range is formed of Mesozoic beds, volcanic ashes and
lava of comparatively recent date. Near the coast the lower
hills are composed of crystalline rocks, syenite and
granite, with, here and there, a strata of sandstone or
limestone. These are, undoubtedly, relics of the lower
Cretaceous age, and we, or rather, my brother, states that
he has found them covered with marine Tertiary deposits.
"Now this Mesozoic band varies greatly. Porphyritic tuffs
and massive limestone compose the western chain of the Andes
above Lima, while in the Oroya Valley we find carbonaceous
sandstones. Some of the tuffs may be of the Jurassic age,
though the Cretaceous period is also largely represented.
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