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Tom Swift And His Giant Cannon

V >> Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift And His Giant Cannon



TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON
OR
The Longest Shots on Record




CONTENTS

CHAPTER
I ON A LIVE WIRE
II "WE'LL TAKE A CHANCE!"
III PLANNING A BIG GUN
IV KOKU'S BRAVE ACT
V OFF TO SANDY HOOK
VI TESTING THE WALLER GUN
VII THE IMPOSSIBLE OCCURS
VIII A BIG PROBLEM
IX THE NEW POWDER
X SOMETHING WRONG
XI FAILURE AND SUCCESS
XII A POWERFUL BLAST
XIII CASTING THE CANNON
XIV A NIGHT INTRUDER
XV READY FOR THE TEST
XVI A WARNING
XVII THE BURSTING DAM
XVIII THE DOPED POWDER
XIX BLOWING DOWN THE BARRIER
XX THE GOVERNMENT ACCEPTS
XXI OFF FOR PANAMA
XXII AT GATUN LOCKS
XXIII NEWS OF THE MINE
XXIV THE LONGEST SHOT
XXV THE LONG-LOST MINE




TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON



CHAPTER I

ON A LIVE WIRE


"Now, see here, Mr. Swift, you may think it all a sort of
dream, and imagine that I don't know what I'm talking about; but
I do! If you'll consent to finance this expedition to the extent
of, say, ten thousand dollars, I'll practically guarantee to give
you back five times that sum

"I don't know, Alec, I don't know," slowly responded the aged
inventor. "I've heard those stories before, and in my experience
nothing ever came of them. Buried treasure, and lost vessels
filled with gold, are all well and good, but hunting for an opal
mine on some little-heard-of island goes them one better."

"Then you don't feel like backing me up in this matter, Mr.
Swift?"

"No, Alec, I can't say I do. Why, just stop and think for a
minute. You're asking me to put ten thousand dollars into a
company, to fit out an expedition to go to this island--somewhere
down near Panama, you say it is--and try to locate the lost mine
from which, some centuries ago, opals and other precious stones
came. It doesn't seem reasonable."

"But I'm sure I can find the mine, Mr. Swift!" persisted Alec
Peterson, who was almost as elderly a man as the one he
addressed. "I have the old documents that tell how rich the mine
once was, how the old Mexican rulers used to get their opals from
it, and how all trace of it was lost in the last century. I have
all the landmarks down pat, and I'm sure I can find it. Come on
now, take a chance. Put in this ten thousand dollars. I can
manage the rest. You'll get back more than five times your
investment."

"If you find the mine--yes."

"I tell you I will find it! Come now, Mr. Swift," and the
visitor's voice was very pleading, "you and your son Tom have
made a fortune for yourselves out of your different inventions.
Be generous, and lend me this ten thousand dollars."

Mr. Swift shook his head.

"I've heard you talk the same way before, Alec," he replied.
"None of your schemes ever amounted to anything. You've been a
fortune-hunter all your life, nearly; and what have you gotten
out of it? Just a bare living."

"That's right, Mr. Swift, but I've had bad luck. I did find the
lost gold mine I went after some years ago, you remember."

"Yes, only to lose it because the missing heirs turned up, and
took it away from you. You could have made more at straight
mining in the time you spent on that scheme."

"Yes, I suppose I could; but this is going to be a success--I
feel it in my bones."

"That's what you say, every time, Alec. No, I don't believe I
want to go into this thing."

"Oh, come--do! For the sake of old times. Don't you recall how
you and I used to prospect together out in the gold country; how
we shared our failures and successes?"

"Yes, I remember that, Alec. Mighty few successes we had,
though, in those days."

"But now you've struck it rich, pardner," went on the pleader.
"Help me out in this scheme--do!"

"No, Alec. I'd rather give you three or four thousand dollars
for yourself, if you'd settle down to some steady work, instead
of chasing all over the country after visionary fortunes. You're
getting too old to do that."

"Well, it's a fact I'm no longer young. But I'm afraid I'm too
old to settle down. You can't teach an old dog new tricks,
pardner. This is my life, and I'll have to live it until I pass
out. Well, if you won't, you won't, I suppose. By the way, where
is Tom? I'd like to see him before I go back. He's a mighty fine
boy."

"That's what he is!" broke in a new voice. "Bless my overshoes,
but he is a smart lad! A wonderful lad, that's what! Why, bless
my necktie, there isn't anything he can't invent; from a button-
hook to a battleship! Wonderful boy--that's what!"

"I guess Tom's ears would burn if he could hear your praises,
Mr. Damon," laughed Mr. Swift. "Don't spoil him."

"Spoil Tom Swift? You couldn't do it in a hundred years!" cried
Mr. Damon, enthusiastically. "Bless my topknot! Not in a thousand
years--no, sir!"

"But where is he?" asked Mr. Peterson, who was evidently unused
to the extravagant manner of Mr. Damon.

"There he goes now!" exclaimed the gentleman who frequently
blessed himself, some article of his apparel, or some other
object. "There he goes now, flying over the house in that Humming
Bird airship of his. He said he was going to try out a new
magneto he'd invented, and it seems to be working all right. He
said he wasn't going to take much of a flight, and I guess he'll
soon be back. Look at him! Isn't he a great one, though!"

"He certainly is," agreed Mr. Peterson, as he and Mr. Swift
went to the window, from which Mr. Damon had caught a glimpse of
the youthful Inventor in his airship. "A great lad. I wish he
could come on this mine-hunt with me, though I'd never consent to
go in an airship. They're too risky for an old man like me."

"They're as safe as a church when Tom Swift runs them!"
declared Mr. Damon. "I'm no boy, but I'd go anywhere with Tom."

"I'm afraid you wouldn't get Tom to go with you, Alec," went on
Mr. Swift, as he resumed his chair, the young inventor in his
airship having passed out of sight. "He's busy on some new
invention now, I believe. I think I heard him say something about
a new rifle."

"Cannon it was, Mr. Swift," said Mr. Damon. "Tom has an idea
that he can make the biggest cannon in the world; but it's only
an idea yet."

"Well, then I guess there's no hope of my interesting him in my
opal mine," said the fortune-hunter, with rather a disappointed
smile. "Nor you either, Mr. Swift."

"No, Alec, I'm afraid not. As I said, I'd rather give you
outright three or four thousand dollars, if you wanted it,
provided that you used it for your own personal needs, and
promised not to sink it in some visionary search."

Mr. Peterson shook his head.

"I'm not actually in want," he said, "and I couldn't accept a
gift of money, Mr. Swift. This is a straight business
proposition."

"Not much straight business in hunting for a mine that's been
lost for over a century," replied the aged inventor, with a
glance at Mr. Damon, who was still at the window, watching for a
glimpse of Tom on his return trip in the air craft.

"If Tom would go, I'd trail along," said the odd man. "We
haven't done anything worth speaking of since he used his great
searchlight to detect the smugglers. But I don't believe he'll
go. That mining proposition sounds good."

"It is good!" cried Mr. Peterson, with fervor, hoping he had
found a new "prospect" in Mr. Damon.

"But not business-good," declared Mr. Swift, and for some time
the three argued the matter, Mr. Swift continuing to shake his
head.

Suddenly into the room there ran an aged colored man, much
excited.

"Fo' de land sakes!" he cried. "Somebody oughter go out an'
help Massa Tom!"

"Why, what's the matter, Eradicate?" asked Mr. Swift, leaping
to his feet, an example followed by the other two men. "What has
happened to my son?"

"I dunno, Massa Swift, but I looked up jest now, an' dere he
be, in dat air-contraption ob his'n he calls de Hummin' Burd.
He's ketched up fast on de balloon shed roof, an' dere he's
hangin' wif sparks an' flames a-shootin' outer de airship suffin'
scandalous! It's jest spittin' fire, dat's what it's a-doin', an'
ef somebody don't do suffin' fo' Massa Tom mighty quick, dere
ain't gwin t' be any Massa Tom; now dat's what I'se aÄtellin'
you!"

"Bless my shoe buttons!" gasped Mr. Damon. "Come on out,
everybody! We've got to help Tom!"

"Yes!" assented Mr. Swift. "Call someone on the telephone! Get
a doctor! Maybe he's shocked! Where's Koku, the giant? Maybe he
can help!"

"Now doan't yo' go t' gittin' all excited-laik," objected
Eradicate Sampson, the aged colored man. "Remember yo' all has
got a weak heart, Massa Swift!"

"I know it; but I must save my son. Hurry!"

Mr. Swift ran from the room, followed by Mr. Damon and Mr.
Peterson, while Eradicate trailed after them as fast as his
tottering limbs would carry him, murmuring to himself.

"There he is!" cried Mr. Damon, as he caught sight of the young
inventor in his airship, in a position of peril. Truly it was as
Eradicate had said. Caught on the slope of the roof of his big
balloon shed, Tom Swift was in great danger.

From his airship there shot dazzling sparks, and streamers of
green and violet fire. There was a snapping, cracking sound that
could be heard above the whir of the craft's propellers, for the
motor was still running.

"Oh, Tom! Tom! What is it? What has happened?" cried his
father.

"Keep back! Don't come too close!" yelled the young inventor,
as he clung to the seat of the aeroplane, that was tilted at a
dangerous angle. "Keep away!"

"What's the matter?" demanded Mr. Damon. "Bless my pocket comb
--what is it?"

"A live wire!" answered Tom. "I'm caught in a live wire! The
trailer attached to the wireless outfit on my airship is crossed
with the wire from the power plant. There's a short circuit
somewhere. Don't come too close, for it may burn through any
second and drop down. Then it will twist about like a snake!"

"Land ob massy!" cried Eradicate.

"What can we do to help you?" called Mr. Swift. "Shall I run
and shut off the power?" for in the shop where Tom did most of
his inventive work there was a powerful dynamo, and it was on one
of the wires extending from it, that brought current into the
house, that the craft had caught.

"Yes, shut it off if you can!" Tom shouted back. "But be
careful. Don't get shocked! Wow! I got a touch of it myself that
time!" and he could be seen to writhe in his seat.

"Oh, hurry! hurry! Find Koku!" cried Mr. Swift to Mr. Damon,
who had started for the power house on the run.

The sparks and lances of fire seemed to increase around the
young inventor. The airship could be seen to slip slowly down the
sloping roof.

"Land ob massy! He am suah gwine t' fall!" yelled Eradicate.

"Oh, he'll never get that current shut off in time!" murmured
Mr. Swift, as he started after Mr. Damon.

"Wait! I think I have a plan!" called Mr. Peterson. "I think I
can save Tom!"

He did not waste further time in talk, but, running to a nearby
shed, he got a long ladder that he saw standing under it. With
this over his shoulder he retraced his steps to the balloon
hangar and placed the ladder against the side. Then he started to
climb up.

"What are you going to do?" yelled Tom, leaning over from his
seat to watch the elderly fortune-hunter.

"I'm going to cut that wire!" was the answer.

"Don't! If you touch it you'll be shocked to death! I may be
able to get out of here. So far I've only had light shocks, but
the insulation is burning out of my magneto, and that will soon
stop. When it does I can't run the motor, and--"

"I'm going to cut that wire!" again shouted Mr. Peterson.

"But you can't, without pliers and rubber gloves!" yelled Tom.
"Keep away, I tell you!"

The man on the ladder hesitated. Evidently he had not thought
of the necessity of protecting his hands by rubber covering, in
order that the electricity might be made harmless. He backed down
to the ground.

"I saw a pair of old gloves in the shed!" he cried. "I'll get
them--they look like rubber."

"They are!" cried Tom, remembering now that he had been putting
up a new wire that day, and had left his rubber gloves there.
"But you haven't any pliers!" the lad went. "How can you cut wire
without them? There's a pair in the shop, but--"

"Heah dey be! Heah dey be!" cried Eradicate, as he produced a
heavy pair from his pocket. "I--I couldn't find de can-opener fo'
Mrs. Baggert, an' I jest got yo' pliers, Massa Tom. Oh, how glad
I is dat I did. Here's de pincers, Massa Peterson."

He handed them to the fortune-hunter, who came running back
with the rubber gloves. Mr. Damon was no more than half way to
the power house, which was quite a distance from the Swift
homestead. Meanwhile Tom's airship was slipping more and more,
and a thick, pungent smoke now surrounded it, coming from the
burning insulation. The sparks and electrical flames were worse
than ever.

"Just a moment now, and I'll have you safe!" cried the fortune-
hunter, as he again mounted the ladder. Luckily the charged wire
was near enough to be reached by going nearly to the top of the
ladder.

Holding the pincers in his rubber-gloved hands, the old man
quickly snipped the wire. There was a flash of sparks as the
copper conductor was severed, and then the shower of sparks about
Tom's airship ceased.

In another second he had turned on full power, the propellers
whizzed with the quickness of light, and he rose in the air, off
the shed roof, the live wire no longer entangling him. Then he
made a short circuit of the work-shop yard, and came to the
ground safely a little distance from the balloon hangar.

"Saved! Tom is saved!" cried Mr. Swift, who had seen the act of
Mr. Peterson from a distance. "He saved my boy's life!"

"Thanks, Mr. Peterson!" exclaimed the young inventor, as he
left his seat and walked up to the fortune-hunter. "You certainly
did me a good turn then. It was touch and go! I couldn't have
stayed there many seconds longer. Next time I'll know better than
to fly with a wireless trailer over a live conductor," and he
held out his hand to Mr. Peterson.

"I'm glad I could help you, Tom," spoke the other, warmly. "I
was afraid that if you had to wait until they shut off the power
it would be too late."

"It would--it would--er--I feel--I--"

Tom's voice trailed off into a whisper and he swayed on his
feet.

"Cotch him!" cried Eradicate. "Cotch him! Massa Tom's hurt!"
and only just in time did Mr. Peterson clutch the young inventor
in his arms. For Tom, white of face, had fallen back in a dead
faint.



CHAPTER II

"WE'LL TAKE A CHANCE!"


"Carry him into the house!" cried Mr. Swift, as he came running
to where Mr. Peterson was loosening Tom's collar.

"Git a doctor!" murmured Eradicate. "Call someone on de
tellifoam! Git fo' doctors!"

"We must get him into the house first," declared Mr. Damon,
who, seeing that Tom was off the shed roof, had stopped mid-way
to the powerhouse, and retraced his steps. "Let's carry him into
the house. Bless my pocketbook! but he must have been shocked
worse than he thought."

They lifted the inert form of our hero and walked toward the
mansion with him, Mrs. Baggert, the housekeeper, standing in the
doorway in dismay, uncertain what to do.

And while Tom is being cared for I will take just a moment to
tell my new readers something more about him and his inventions,
as they have been related in the previous books of this series.

The first volume was called "Tom Swift and His Motor-Cycle,"
and this machine was the means of his becoming acquainted with
Mr. Wakefield Damon, the odd gentleman who so often blessed
things. On his motor-cycle Tom had many adventures.

The lad was of an inventive mind, as was his father, and in the
succeeding books of the series, which you will find named in
detail elsewhere, I related how Tom got a motorboat, made an
airship, and later a submarine, in all of which craft he had
strenuous times and adventures.

His electric runabout was quite the fastest car on the road,
and when he sent his wonderful wireless message he saved himself
and others from Earthquake Island. He solved the secret of the
diamond makers, and, though he lost a fine balloon in the caves
of ice, he soon had another air craft--a regular sky-racer. His
electric rifle saved a party from the red pygmies in Elephant
Land, and in his air glider he found the platinum treasure. With
his wizard camera, Tom took wonderful moving pictures, and in the
volume immediately preceding this present one, called "Tom Swift
and His Great Searchlight," I had the pleasure of telling you how
the lad captured the smugglers who were working against Uncle Sam
over the border.

Tom, as you will see, had, with the help of his father,
perfected many wonderful inventions. The lad lived with his aged
parent, his mother being dead, in the village of Shopton, in New
York State.

While the house, which was presided over by the motherly Mrs.
Baggert, was large, it was almost lost now amid the many
buildings surrounding it, from balloon and airship hangars, to
shops where varied work was carried on. For Tom did most of his
labor himself, of course with men to help him at the heavier
tasks. Occasionally he had to call on outside shops.

In the household, beside his father, himself and Mrs. Baggert,
was Eradicate Sampson, an aged colored man-of-all-work, who said
he was called "Eradicate" because he eradicated dirt. There was
also Koku, a veritable giant, one of two brothers whom Tom had
brought with him from Giant Land, when he escaped from captivity
there, as related in the book of that name.

Mr. Damon was, with Ned Newton, Tom's chum, the warmest friend
of the family, and was often at Tom's home, coming from the
neighboring town of Waterford, where he lived.

Tom had been back some time now from working for the government
in detecting the smugglers, but, as you may well suppose, he had
not been idle. Inventing a number of small things, including
useful articles for the house, was a sort of recreation for him,
but his mind was busy on one great scheme, which I will tell you
about in due time.

Among other things he had just perfected a new style of magneto
for one of his airships. The magneto, as you know, is a sort of
small dynamo, that supplies the necessary spark to the cylinder,
to explode the mixture of air and gasoline vapor. He was trying
out this magneto in the Humming Bird when the accident I have
related in the first chapter occurred.

"There! He's coming to!" exclaimed Mrs. Baggert, as she leaned
over Tom, who was stretched out on the sofa in the library. "Give
him another smell of this ammonia," she went on, handing the
bottle to Mr. Swift.

"No--no," faintly murmured Tom, opening his eyes. "I--I've had
enough of that, if you please! I'm all right."

"Are you sure, Tom?" asked his father. "Aren't you hurt
anywhere?"

"Not a bit, Dad! It was foolish of me to go off that way; but I
couldn't seem to help it. It all got black in front of me, and--
well, I just keeled over."

"I should say you did," spoke Mr. Peterson.

"An' ef he hadn't a-been there to cotch yo' all," put in
Eradicate, "yo' all suah would hab hit de ground mighty hard."

"That's two services he did for me today," said Tom, as he
managed to sit up. "Cutting that wire--well, it saved my life,
that's certain."

"I believe you, Tom," said Mr. Swift, solemnly, and he held out
his hand to his old mining partner.

"Do you need the doctor?" asked Mr. Damon, who was at the
telephone. "He says he'll come right over--I can get him in Tom's
electric runabout, if you say so. He's on the wire now."

"No, I don't need him," replied the young inventor. "Thank him
just the same. It was only an ordinary faint, caused by the
slight electrical shocks, and by getting a bit nervous, I guess.
I'm all right--see," and he proved it by standing up.

"He's ail right--don't come, doctor," said Mr. Damon into the
telephone. "Bless my keyring!" he exclaimed, "but that was a
strenuous time!"

"I've been in some tight places before," went on Tom, as he sat
down in an easy chair, "and I've had any number of shocks when
I've been experimenting, but this was a sort of double
combination, and it sure had me guessing. But I'm feeling better
every minute."

"A cup of hot tea will do you good," said motherly Mrs.
Baggert, as she bustled out of the room. "I'll make it for you."

"You cut that wire as neatly as any lineman could," went on
Tom, glancing from Mr. Peterson out of the window to where one of
his workmen was repairing the break. "When I flew over it in my
airship I never gave a thought to the trailer from my wireless
outfit. The first I knew I was caught back, and then pulled down
to the balloon shed roof, for I tilted the deflecting rudder by
mistake.

"But, Mr. Peterson," Tom went on, "I haven't seen you in some
time. Anything new on, that brings you here?" for the fortune-
hunter had called at the Swift house after Tom had gone out to
the shop to get his airship ready for the flight to try the
magneto.

"Well, Tom, I have something rather new on," replied Mr.
Peterson. "I hoped to interest your father in it, but he doesn't
seem to care to take a chance. It's a lost opal mine on a little-
known island in the Caribbean Sea not far from the city of Colon.
I say not far--by that I mean about twenty miles. But your father
doesn't want to invest, say, ten thousand dollars in it, though I
can almost guarantee that he'll get five times that sum back. So,
as long as he doesn't feel that he can help me out, I guess I'd
better be traveling on."

"Hold on! Wait a minute. Don't be in a hurry," said Mr. Swift.

Mr. Peterson was an old friend, and when he and Mr. Swift were
young men they had prospected and grub-staked together. But Mr.
Swift soon gave that up to devote his time to his inventions,
while Mr. Peterson became a sort of rolling stone.

He was a good man, but somewhat visionary, and a bit inclined
to "take chances"--such as looking for lost treasure--rather than
to devote himself to some steady employment. The result was that
he led rather a precarious life, though never being actually in
want.

"No, pardner," he said to Mr. Swift. "It's kind of you to ask
me to stay; but this mine business has got a grip on me. I want
to try it out. If you won't finance the project someone else may.
I'll say good-bye, and--"

"Now just a minute," said Mr. Swift. "It's true, Alec, I had
about made up my mind not to go into this thing, when this
accident happened to Tom. Now you practically saved his life.
You--"

"Oh, pshaw! I only acted on the spur of the moment. Anyone
could have done what I did," protested the fortune-hunter.

"Oh, but you did it!" insisted Mr. Swift, "and you did it in
the nick of time. Now I wouldn't for a moment think of offering
you a reward for saving my son's life. But I do feel mighty
friendly toward you--not that I didn't before--but I do want to
help you. Alec, I will go into this business with you. We'll take
a chance! I'll invest ten thousand dollars, and I'm not so awful
worried about getting it back, either--though I don't believe in
throwing money away."

"You won't throw it away in this case!" declared Mr. Peterson,
eagerly. "I'm sure to find that mine; but it will take a little
capital to work it. That's what I need--capital!"

"Well, I'll supply it to the extent of ten thousand dollars,"
said Mr. Swift. "Tom, what do you think of it? Am I foolish or
not?"

"Not a bit of it, Dad!" cried the young man, who was now
himself again. "I'm glad you took that chance, for, if you
hadn't--well, I would have supplied the money myself--that's
all," and he smiled at the fortune-hunter.



CHAPTER III

PLANNING A BIG GUN


"BUT, Tom, I don't see how in the world you can ever hope to
make a bigger gun than that."

"I think it can be done, Ned," was the quiet answer of the
young inventor. He looked up from some drawings on the table in
the office of one of his shops. "Now I'll just show you--"

"Hold on, Tom. You know I have a very poor head for figures,
even if I do help you out once in a while on some of your work.
Skip the technical details, and give me the main facts."

The two young men--Ned Newton being Tom's special chum--were
talking together over Tom's latest scheme.

It was several days after Tom's accident in the airship, when
he had been saved by the prompt action of Mr. Peterson. That
fortune-hunter, once he had the promise of Mr. Swift to invest in
his somewhat visionary plan of locating a lost opal mine near the
Panama Canal, had left the Swift homestead to arrange for fitting
out the expedition of discovery. He had tried to prevail on Tom
to accompany him, and, failing in that, tried to work on Mr.
Damon.

"Bless my watch chain!" exclaimed that odd gentleman. "I would
like to go with you first rate. But I'm so busy--so very busy--
that I can't think of it. I have simply neglected all my affairs,
chasing around the country with Tom Swift. But if Tom goes I--
ahem! I think perhaps I could manage it--ahem!"

"I thought you were busy," laughed Tom.

"Oh, well, perhaps I could get a few weeks off. But I'm not
going--no, bless my check book, I must get back to business!"

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