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.