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Tom Swift And His Motor Boat

V >> Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift And His Motor Boat




"Drop into the lake! We'll pick you up before the bag falls on
you! Jump! Let go now!"

The balloonist heard and understood. So did Ned and Mr. Swift.
Tom's quick wit had found a way to save the man.

Faster and faster the blazing bag settled toward the surface of
the water. It was now merely a mushroom-shaped piece of burning
and smoking canvas, yet it was supporting the man almost as a
parachute would have done.

With one look upward to the burning mass above him and a glance
downward to the lake, the aeronaut let go his hold. Like a shot
he came down, holding his body rigid and straight as a stick, for
he knew how to fall into water, did that balloonist.

Tom Swift was ready for him. No sooner had the lad called his
directions through the megaphone than the young inventor had
speeded up his engine to the top notch.

"Steer so as to pick him up!" Tom cried to Ned, who was at the
wheel. "Pass by him on a curve, and, as soon as I grab him, put
the wheel over so as to get out from under the balloon."

It was a risky thing to do, but our hero had it all planned out.
He made a loop of the boat's painter, and, hurrying to the bow,
leaned over as far as he could, holding the rope in readiness.
His idea was to have the balloonist grab the strands and be pulled
out of danger by the speedy motor-boat, for the blazing canvas
would cover such an extent of water that the man could not have
swum out of the danger zone in time.

Down shot the balloonist and down more slowly settled the
collapsed bag, yet not so slowly that there was any time to spare.
It needed only a few seconds to drop over the performer, to burn
and smother him.

Into the water splashed the man, disappearing from sight as when a
stick is dropped in, point first. Ned was alert and steered the
boat to the side in which the man's face was, for he concluded
that the aeronaut would strike out in that direction when he came
up. The ARROW was now directly under the blazing balloon and
cries of fear from the watchers on shore urged upon Tom and his
companions the danger of their position. But they had to take
some risk to rescue the man.

"There he is!" cried Mr. Swift, who was on the watch, leaning over
the side of the boat. Tom and Ned saw him at the same instant.
Ned shifted his wheel and the young inventor bent over, holding
out the rope for the man to grasp. He saw it and struck out
toward the ARROW. But there was no need for him to go far. An
instant more and the speeding motor-boat shot past him. He
grabbed the rope and Tom, aided by Mr. Swift, began to lift him
out of the water.

"Quick! To one side, Ned!" yelled Tom, for the heat of the
descending mass of burning canvas struck him like a furnace blast.

Ned needed no urging. With a swirl of the screw the ARROW shot
herself out of the way, carrying the aeronaut with her. A moment
later the burning balloon, or what there was left of it, settled
down into the lake, hissing angrily as the fire was quenched by
the water and completely covering the spot where, but a few
seconds before, the man had been swimming. He had been saved in
the nick of time.


CHAPTER XXIII

PLANS FOR AN AIRSHIP

"Slow her down, Ned!" cried Tom, for the ARROW was shooting so
swiftly through the water that the young inventor found it
impossible to pull up the balloonist. Ned hurried back to the
motor, and, when the boat's way had been checked, it was an easy
matter to pull the dripping and almost exhausted man into the
craft.

"Are you much hurt?" asked Mr. Swift anxiously, for Tom was too
much out of breath with his exertion to ask any questions. For
that matter the man was in almost as bad a plight. He was
breathing heavily, as one who had run a long race.

"I--I guess I'm all right," he panted. "Only burned a little on
my hands. That--that was a close call!"

The boat swung around and headed for shore, on which was quite a
throng of persons. Some of them had cheered when they saw the
plucky rescue.

"I'm afraid we can't save your balloon," gasped Tom as he looked
at the place where the canvas was still floating and burning.

"No matter. It wasn't worth much. That's the last time I'll ever
go up in a hot-air balloon," said the man with more energy than he
had before exhibited. "I'm done with 'em. I've had my lesson.
Hereafter an aeroplane or a gas balloon for me. I only did this
to oblige the fair committee. I'll not do it again."

The man spoke in short, crisp sentences, as though he was in too
much of a hurry to waste his words.

"Let it sink," he went on. "It's no good. Glad to see the last
of it."

Almost as he spoke, with a final hiss and a cloud of steam that
mingled with the black smoke, the remains of the big bag sunk
beneath the surface of the lake.

"We must get you ashore at once and to a doctor," said Mr. Swift.
"You must be badly burned."

"Not much. Only my hands, where some burning pieces of canvas
fell on' em. If I had a little oil to put on I'd be all right."

"I can fix you up better than that," put in Tom. "I have some
Vaseline."

"Good! Just the thing. Pass it over," and the man, though he
spoke shortly, seemed grateful for the offer. "My name's Sharp,"
he went on, "John Sharp, of no place in particular, for I travel
all over. I'm a professional balloonist. Ha! That's the stuff!"

This last was in reference to a bottle of Vaseline, which Tom
produced. Mr. Sharp spread some over the backs of his hands and
went on:

"That's better. Much obliged. I can't begin to thank you for
what you did for me--saved my life. I thought it was all up with
me--would have been but for you. Mustn't mind my manner--it's a
way I have--have to talk quick when you're balloonin'--no time--
but I'm grateful all the same. Who might you people be?"

Tom told him their names and Mr. Swift asked the aeronaut if he
was sure he didn't need the services of a physician.

"No doctor for me," answered the balloonist. "I've been in lots
of tight places, but this was the worst squeeze. If you'll put me
ashore, I guess I can manage now."

"But you're all wet," objected Tom. "Where will you go? You need
some other clothes," for the man wore a suit of tights and
spangles.

"Oh, I'm used to this," went on the performer. "I frequently have
to fall in the water. I always carry a little money with me so as
to get back to the place where I started from. By the way, where
am I?"

"Opposite Daleton," answered Tom. "Where did you go up from?"

"Pratonia. Big fair there. I was one of the features."

"Then you're about fifteen miles away," commented Mr. Swift. "You
can hardly get back before night. Must you go there?"

"Left my clothes there. Also a valuable gas balloon. No more
hot-air ones for me. Guess I'd better go back," and the aeronaut
continued to speak in his quick, jerky sentences.

"We'd be very glad to have you come with us, Mr. Sharp," went on
the inventor. "We are not far from Shopton, and if you would like
to remain over night I'm sure we would make you comfortable. You
can proceed to Pratonia in the morning."

"Thanks. Might not be a bad idea," said Mr. Sharp. "I'm obliged
to you. I've got to go there to collect my money, though I
suppose they won't give it all to me."

"Why not?" demanded Ned.

"Didn't drop from my parachute. Couldn't. Fire was one reason--
couldn't reach the parachute, and if I could have, guess it
wouldn't have been safe. Parachute probably was burned too. But
I'm done with hot-air balloons though I guess I said that before."

The boys were much interested in the somewhat odd performer,
and, on his part, he seemed to take quite a notion to Tom, who
told him of several things that he had invented. "Well,"
remarked Mr. Swift after a while, during which the boat had been
moving slowly down the lake, "if we are not to go ashore for a
doctor for you, Mr. Sharp, suppose we put on more speed and get
to my home? I'm anxious about a robbery that occurred there,"
and he related some facts in the case.

"Speed her up!" exclaimed Mr. Sharp. "Wish I could help you catch
the scoundrels, but afraid I can't--hands too sore," and he
looked at his burns. Then he told how he had made the ascension
from the Pratonia fair grounds and how, when he was high in the
air, he had discovered that the balloon was on fire. He described
his sensations and told how he thought his time had surely come.
Sparks from the hot air used to inflate it probably caused the
blaze, he said.

"I've made a number of trips," he concluded, "hot air and gas
bags, but this was the worst ever. It got on my nerves for a few
minutes," he added coolly.

"I should think it would," agreed Tom as he speeded up the motor
and sent the ARROW on her homeward way.

The boys and Mr. Swift were much interested in the experiences of
the balloonist and asked him many questions, which he answered
modestly. Several hours passed and late that afternoon the party
approached Shopton.

"Here we are!" exclaimed Mr. Swift, relief in his tones. "Now to
see of what I have been robbed and to get the police after the
scoundrels!"

When the boat was nearing the dock Mr. Sharp, who had been silent
for some time, suddenly turned to Tom and asked:

"Ever invent an airship?"

"No," replied the lad, somewhat surprised. "I never did."

"I have," went on the balloonist. "That is, I've invented part of
it. I'm stuck over some details. Maybe you and I'll finish it
some day. How about it?"

"Maybe," assented Tom, who was occupied just then in making a good
landing. "I am interested in airships, but I never thought I
could build one."

"Easiest thing in the world," went on Mr. Sharp, as if it was an
everyday matter. "You and I will get busy as soon as we clear up
this robbery." He talked as though he had been a friend of the
family for some time, for he had a genial, taking manner.

A little later Mr. Swift was excitedly questioning Garret Jackson
concerning the robbery and making an examination of the electrical
shop to discover what was missing.

"They've taken some parts of my gyroscope!" he exclaimed, "and
some valuable tools and papers, as well as some unfinished work
that will be difficult to replace."

"Much of a loss?" asked Mr. Sharp with a business-like air.

"Well, not so large as regards money," answered the inventor, "but
they took things I can never replace, and I will miss them very
much if I cannot get them back."

"Then we'll get them back!" snapped the balloonist, as if that was
all there was to it.

The police were called up on the telephone and the facts given to
them, as well as a description of the stolen things. They
promised to do what they could, but, in the light of past
experiences, Tom and his father did not think this would be much.
There was little more that could be done that evening. Ned Newton
went to his home, and, after Mr. Swift had insisted in calling in
his physician to look after Mr. Sharp's burns the balloonist was
given a room next to Tom's. Then the Swift household settled
down.

"Well," remarked Tom to his father, as he got ready for bed, "this
sure has been an exciting day."

"And my loss is a serious one," added the inventor somewhat sadly.

"Don't worry, dad," begged his son. "I'll do my best to recover
those things for you."

Several days passed, but there was no clew to the thieves. That
they were the same ones who had stolen the turbine model there was
little doubt, but they seemed to have covered their tracks well.
The police were at a loss, and, though Tom and Mr. Sharp cruised
about the lake, they could get no trace of the men. The
balloonist had sent to Pratonia for his clothing and other baggage
and was now installed in the Swift home, where he was invited to
stay a week or two.

One night when he was looking over some papers he had taken from
his trunk the balloonist came over to where Tom was making a
drawing of a new machine he was planning and said:

"Like to see my idea for an airship? Different from some. It's a
dirigible balloon with an aeroplane front and rear to steer and
balance it in big winds. It would be a winner, only for one
thing. Maybe you can help me."

"Maybe I can," agreed Tom, who was at once interested.

"We ought to be able to do something. Look at our names--Swift
and Sharp--quick and penetrating--a good firm to build airships,"
and he laughed genially. "Shall we do it?"

"I'm willing," agreed Tom, and the balloonist spread his plans out
on the table, he and the young inventor soon being deep in a
discussion of them.


CHAPTER XXIV

THE MYSTERY SOLVED

From then on, for several days, the young inventor and his new
friend lived in an atmosphere of airships. They talked them from
morning until night, and even Mr. Swift, much as he was exercised
over his loss, took part in the discussions.

In the meanwhile efforts had not ceased to locate the robbers and
recover the stolen goods, but so far without success.

One afternoon, about two weeks after the thrilling rescue of John
Sharp, Tom said to the balloonist:

"Wouldn't you like to come for a ride in the motor-boat? Maybe it
will help us to solve the puzzle of the airship. We'll take a
trip across and up the opposite shore."

"Good idea," commented Mr. Sharp. "Fine day for a sail. Come on.
Blow the cobwebs from our brains."

Mr. Swift declined an invitation to accompany them, as he said he
would stay home and try to straighten out his affairs, which were
somewhat muddled by the robbery.

Out over the blue waters of Lake Carlopa shot the ARROW. It was
making only moderate speed, as Tom was in no hurry, and he knew
his engine would last longer if not forced too frequently. They
glided along, crossed the lake and were proceeding up the opposite
shore when, as they turned out from a little bay and rounded a
point of land, Mr. Sharp exclaimed:

"Look out, Tom, there's rowboat just ahead!"

"Oh, I'll pass well to one side of that," answered the young
inventor, looking at the craft. As he did so, noting that there
were four men in it, one of the occupants caught a glimpse of the
ARROW. No sooner had he done so than he spoke to his companions,
and they all turned to stare at Tom. At first the lad could
scarcely believe his eyes, but as he looked more intently he
uttered a cry.

"There they are!"

"Who?" inquired Mr. Sharp.

"Those men--the thieves! We must catch them!"

Tom had spoken loudly, but even though the men in the rowboat did
hear what he said, they would have realized without that that they
were about to be pursued, for there was no mistaking the attitude
of our hero.

Two of the thieves were at the oars, and, with one accord, they at
once increased their speed. The boat swung about sharply and was
headed for the shore, which they seemed to have come from only a
short time previous, as the craft was not far out in the lake.

"No, you don't!" cried Tom. "I see your game! You want to get to
the woods, where you'll have a better chance to escape! If this
isn't great luck, coming upon them this way!"

It was the work of but a moment to speed up the engine and head
the ARROW for the rowboat. The men were pulling frantically, but
they had no chance.

"Get between them and the shore!" cried Mr. Sharp. "You can head
them off then." This was good advice and Tom followed it. The
men, among whom the lad could recognize Happy Harry and Anson
Morse, were all excited. Two of them stood up, as though to jump
overboard, but their companions called to them to stop.

"If we only had a gun now, not to shoot at them but to intimidate
them," murmured the balloonist, "maybe they'd stop."

"Here's one," answered Tom, pointing to the seat locker, where he
kept the shotgun Mr. Duncan had given him. In a moment Mr. Sharp
had it out.

"Surrender!" he cried, pointing the weapon at the men in the small
boat.

"Don't shoot! Don't fire on us! We'll give up!" cried Happy
Harry, and the two with the oars ceased pulling.

"Don't take any chances," urged Mr. Sharp in a low voice. "Keep
between them and the shore. I'll cover them." Tom was steering
from an auxiliary side wheel near the motor, and soon the ARROW
had cut off the retreat of the men. They could not land and to
row across the lake meant speedy capture.

"Well, what do you want of us?" growled Morse. "What right have
you got to interfere with us in this fashion?"

"The best of right," answered Tom. "You'll find out when you're
landed in jail."

"You can't arrest us," sneered Happy Harry. "You're not an
officer and you haven't any warrant."

Tom hadn't thought of that, and his chagrin showed in his face.
Happy Harry was quick to see it.

"You'd better let us go," he threatened "We can have you arrested
for bothering us. You haven't any right to stop us, Tom Swift."

"Maybe he hasn't, but I have!" exclaimed John Sharp suddenly.

"You! Who are you?" demanded Featherton, alias Simpson, the man
who had run the automobile that carried Tom away.

"Me. I'm a special deputy sheriff for this county," answered the
balloonist simply. "Here's my badge," and, throwing back his
coat, he displayed it. "You see I got the appointment in order to
have some authority in the crowds that gather to watch me go up,"
he explained to Tom, who plainly showed his astonishment. "I
found it very useful to be able to threaten arrest, but in this
case I'll do more than threaten. You are my prisoners," he went
on to the men in the boat, and he handled the shotgun as if he
knew how to use it. "I'll take you into custody on complaint of
Mr. Swift for robbery. Now will you go quietly or are you going
to make a fuss?" and Mr. Sharp shut his jaw grimly.

"Well, seeing as how you have the drop on us, I guess we'll have
to do as you say," admitted Happy Harry, alias Jim Burke. "But
you can't prove anything against us. We haven't any of Mr.
Swift's property."

"Well, you know where it is then," retorted Tom quickly.

Under the restraining influence of the gun the men made no
resistance. While Mr. Sharp covered them, Tom towed their boat
toward shore. Then, while the young inventor held the gun, the
balloonist tied the hands and feet of the thieves in a most
scientific manner, for what he did not know about ropes and knots
was not worth putting into a book.

"Now, I guess they'll stay quiet for a while," remarked Mr. Sharp
as he surveyed the crestfallen criminals. "I'll remain on guard
here, Tom, while you go notify the nearest constable and we'll
take them to jail. We bagged the whole lot as neatly as could be
desired."

"No, you didn't get all of us!" exclaimed Happy Harry, and there
was a savage anger in his tones.

"Keep quiet!" urged Morse.

"No, I'll not keep quiet! It's a shame that we have to take our
medicine while that trimmer, Tod Boreck, goes free. He ought to
have been with us, and he would be, only he's trying to get away
with that sparkler!"

"Keep quiet," again urged Morse.

Tom was all attention. He had caught the word "sparkler," and he
at once associated it with the occasion he had heard the men use
it before. He felt that he was on the track of solving the
mystery connected with his boat.

He looked at the men. They were the same four who had been
involved in the former theft--Appleson, Featherton, Morse and
Burke. Were there five of them? He recalled the man who had been
caught tampering with his boat--the man who had tried to bid on
the ARROW at the auction. Where was he?

"Boreck didn't get what he was after," resumed Happy Harry, "and
I'm going to spoil his game for him. Say, kid," he went on to
Tom, "look in the front part of your boat--where the gasoline
tank is."

Tom felt his heart beating fast. At last he felt that he would
solve the puzzle. He opened the forward compartment. To his
disappointment it seemed as usual. Morse and the others were
making a vain effort to silence Happy Harry.

"I don't see anything here," said Tom.

"No, because it's hidden in one of those blocks of wood you use
for a brace," continued the man. "Which one it is, Boreck didn't
know, so he pulled out two or three, only to be fooled each time.
You must have shifted them, kid, from the way they were when we
had the boat."

"I did," answered the young inventor, recollecting how he had
taken out some of the braces and inserted new ones, then painted
the interior of the compartment. "What is in the braces, anyhow?"

"The sparkler--a big diamond--in a hollow place in the wood,
kid!" exclaimed Happy Harry, blurting out the words. "I'm not
going to let Tod Boreck get away with it while we stay in jail."

"Take out all the braces that haven't been moved and have a look,"
suggested Mr. Sharp. Tom only had to remove two, those farthest
back, for all the others had, at one time or another, been changed
or taken away by the thief.

One of the blocks did not seem to have anything unusual about it,
but at the sight of the other Tom could not repress a cry. It was
the one that seemed to have had a hole bored in it and then
plugged up again. He remembered his father noticing it on the
occasion of overhauling the boat.

"The sparkler's in there," said the tramp as he saw the brace.
"Boreck was after it several times, but he never pulled out the
right one."

With his knife Tom dug out the putty that covered the round hole
in the block. No sooner had he done so than there rolled out into
his hand a white object. It was something done up in tissue
paper, and as he removed the wrapper, there was a flash in the
sunlight and a large, beautiful diamond was revealed. The mystery
had been solved.


CHAPTER XXV

WINNING A RACE

"Where did this diamond come from?" demanded Mr. Sharp of the
quartette of criminals.

"That's for us to know and you to find out," sneered Happy Harry.
"I don't care as long as that trimmer Boreck didn't get it. He
tried to do us out of our share."

"Well, I guess the police will make you tell," went on the
balloonist. "Go for the constable, Tom."

Leaving his friend to guard the ugly men, who for a time at least
were beyond the possibility of doing harm, Tom hurried off through
the woods to the nearest village. There he found an officer and
the gang was soon lodged in jail. The diamond was turned over to
the authorities, who said they would soon locate the owner.

Nor were they long in doing it, for it appeared the gem was part
of a large jewel robbery that had taken place some time before in
a distant city. The Happy Harry gang, as the men came to be
called, were implicated in it, though they got only a small share
of the plunder. Search was made for Tod Boreck and he was
captured about a week after his companions. Seeing that their
game was up, the men made a partial confession, telling where Mr.
Swift's goods had been secreted, and the inventor's valuable
tools, papers and machinery were recovered, no damage having been
done to them.

It developed that after the diamond theft, and when the gang still
had possession of Mr. Hastings' boat, Boreck, sometimes called
Murdock by his cronies, unknown to them, had secreted the jewel in
one of the braces under the gasoline tank. He expected to get it
out secretly, but the capture of the gang and the sale of the boat
prevented this. Then he tried to buy the craft to take out the
diamond, but Tom overbid him. It was Boreck who found Andy's
bunch of keys and used one to open the compartment lock when Tom
surprised him. The man did manage to remove some of the blocks,
thinking he had the one with the diamond in it, but the fact of
Tom changing them, and painting the compartment deceived him. The
gang hoped to get some valuables from Mr. Swift's shops, and, to a
certain extent, succeeded after hanging around for several nights
and following him to Sandport, but Tom eventually proved too much
for them. Even stealing the Arrow, which was taken to aid the
gang in robbing Mr. Swift, did not succeed, and Boreck's plan then
to get possession of the diamond fell through.

It was thought that the gang would get long terms in prison, but
one night, during a violent storm, they escaped from the local
jail and that was the last seen of them for some time.

A few days after the capture as Tom was in the boathouse making
some minor repairs to the motor he heard a voice calling:

"Mistah Swift, am yo' about?"

"Hello, Rad, is that you?" he inquired, recognizing the voice of
the colored owner of the mule Boomerang.

"Yais, sa, dat's me. I got a lettah fo' yo'. I were passin' de
post-office an' de clerk asted me to brung it to yo' 'case as how
it's marked 'hurry,' an' he said he hadn't seen yo' to-day."

"That's right. I've been so busy I haven't had time to go for the
mail," and Tom took the letter, giving Eradicate ten cents for his
trouble.

"Ha, that's good!" exclaimed Tom as he read it.

"Hab some one done gone an' left yo' a fortune, Mistah Swift?"
asked the negro.

"No, but it's almost as good. It's an invitation to take part in
the motor-boat races next week. I'd forgotten all about them. I
must get ready."

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