CHAPTER XXV
THE GOLD TOOTH
Eagerly Mr. Damon and the government
agent leaned over and looked down. In the moonlight
they saw the same sight that had attracted Tom Swift.
The touring car, the two men in front, and the huddled,
bound figure in the back.
“Can you go down, Tom, without
letting them hear you?” asked Mr. Damon, using
a low voice, as if fearful the men in the automobile
would hear him.
“I guess so,” answered
the young inventor. “I can land nearer
to the cabin than Jackson and I did, and then we can
see what these fellows are up to. It looks suspicious
to me. That is, unless they’re some of
the Secret Service men, and have made a capture,”
he added to Mr. Terrill.
“Those aren’t any of Uncle
Sam’s men,” declared the agent. “That
is, unless the bound one is. I can’t see
him very well. Better go down, and we’ll
see if we can surprise them.”
“My plan,” voiced Tom.
Quickly he shifted the rudder, and
then, shutting off the motor, as he wanted to volplane
down, he headed his craft for an open spot that showed
in the bright moonlight. By this time the automobile
and its occupants were out of sight behind a clump
of trees, but Tom and his companions felt sure of
the destination of the men—the deserted
cabin in the wood.
As silently as a wisp of grass falling,
the big craft came down on a level spot, and then,
leaping out, the young inventor and his two companions
crept along the path toward the cabin. Mr. Terrill
was armed, Tom carried a flashlight, while Mr. Damon
picked up a heavy club.
As soon as he came near a place where
he thought the marks of the automobile wheels would
show, Tom flashed his light.
“I thought so!” he exclaimed,
as he saw the square, knobby tread marks left by the
tires. “It’s the same gang, or some
of them in the same car. If we can only capture
them!”
“The Secret Service men ought
to do that,” returned Mr. Terrill, but, as it
developed later, they were not on hand, though through
no fault of theirs.
On and on crept Tom and the two men,
until they came within sight of the cabin. They
saw a light gleaming in it, and Tom whispered:
“Now we have them! Work
our way up quietly and make them surrender, if we
find they’re what we think.”
“Is there a rear door?”
asked Mr. Terrill in a whisper.
Tom answered in the negative, and
then all three, in fan shape, crept up to the front
portal. It was open, and silently reaching a
place where they could make an observation, Tom and
his companions looked in.
What they saw filled them with wild
and righteous rage, and brought to an end the mystery
of the disappearance of Mr. Nestor. For there
he sat, bound in a chair, and at a table in front of
him were two forbidding-looking men.
“What do you intend to do now?”
asked Mr. Nestor in a faint voice. “I cannot
stand this captivity much longer. You admit that
you don’t want me—that you never wanted
me—so why do you keep me a prisoner?
It cannot do the least good.”
“There’s no use going
over that again !” exclaimed the harsh voice
of one of the men. told you that if you will promise
to keep still about what happened to you, and not
to give the police any information about us, we’ll
let you go gladly. We don’t want you.
It was all a mistake, capturing you. You were
the wrong man. But we re not going to let you
go and have you set the police on us as soon as you
get a chance. Give us your promise to say nothing,
and we’ll let you join your friends. If
you don’t—”
“Make no promises, Mr. Nestor!”
cried Tom Swift in a ringing voice, as he leaped from
his hiding place, followed by his companions.
“Your friends are here, and you can tell them
everything!”
“Up with ’em!” called
Mr. Terrill to the two conspirators as he confronted
them with his automatic pistol ready for firing.
He had no need to mention hands—they knew
what he meant and took the characteristic attitude.
“Tom! Tom Swift!”
cried Mr. Nestor, struggling ineffectually at his
bonds. “Is it really you?”
“Well, I hope it isn’t
any imitation,” was the grim answer. “We’ll
tell you all about it later. Jove, but I’m
glad we found you! If it hadn’t been for
Silent Sam we might never have been able to.”
“Well, I don’t know who
Silent Sam is,” said Mr. Nestor faintly.
“But I’m sure I’m much obliged to
him and your other friends. It has been very
hard. Tell me, are my wife and Mary all right?”
“In good health, yes, but, of
course, worrying,” said Tom. “We
saw them in the garden a little while ago. Now
don’t talk until I set you free.”
And as Tom cut the ropes from Mr.
Nestor, Mr. Damon used them to bind the two conspirators,
while Mr. Terrill stood guard over them. And
when they were safely bound, and Mr. Nestor had somewhat
recovered from the shock, Tom had a chance to examine
the prisoners.
“What does it all mean?
Who are you fellows, anyhow, and what’s your
game?” he demanded.
“Guess it—since you’re so smart!”
snapped one.
And no sooner had he opened his mouth
and Tom had a glance of something gleaming brightly
yellow, than the young inventor cried:
“The gold tooth! So it’s
you again, is it, you spy?”
The man shrugged his shoulders with
an assumption of indifference. And, as Tom took
a closer look, he became aware that the man was surely
none other than Lydane, the spy he had chased into
the mud puddle some weeks before. His companion
was a stranger to Tom.
“What does it all mean, Mr.
Nestor ?” asked Tom. “Have these
men held you a prisoner ever since you called for help
on the moor that night?”
“Yes, Tom, they have. And
I did call for help after they attacked me as I was
riding my wheel, but I didn’t know any one heard
me. I began to be afraid no one would ever help
me.”
“We’ve been trying to,
a long time,” said Mr. Damon, “but we
couldn’t find you. Where did they keep you?”
“Here, part of the time,”
was Mr. Nestor’s answer. “And in
other lonely houses. They bound and gagged me
when they took me from place to place.”
“But what was their object?”
asked Tom, concluding it was useless to question the
two captives. “Why did they make you a
prisoner, Mr. Nestor?”
“Because they took me for you, Tom.”
“For me?”
“Yes. The night I called
at your house, and found you were not at home, I put
back in my pocket a bundle of papers I had brought
over to show you. They were plans of a little
kitchen appliance a friend of mine had invented, and
I wanted to ask your opinion of it.”
“These scoundrels must have
followed me, or have seen the bundle of papers, and,
mistaking me for you, they followed, attacked me in
a lonely spot and, bundling me and my wrecked wheel
into an auto, carried me off. They first demanded
that I gave up the ‘plans,’ and when I
wouldn’t they choked off my cries for help and
knocked me into unconsciousness. Then they brought
me here, and kept me here for several days.
“They soon learned that the
plans I had weren’t those they wanted, though
what they were thin after I couldn’t imagine.
Only, from what I laser overheard, I knew they mistook
me for you and that they were bitterly disappointed
in not getting plans of some new airship you were
working on. They have kept me a prisoner ever
since, and though they offered to let me go if I would
keep silent, I refused. I did not think, to secure
my own comfort, I should let such men go unpunished
if I could bring about their arrest.”
“I should say not!” cried Tom.
“Did they treat you brutally, Mr. Nestor?”
asked Mr. Damon.
“Not after they found out who
I was, by looking through my wallet. Of course
they didn’t behave very decently, but they weren’t
actually cruel, except that they bound and gagged me.
Oh, but I’m glad you came, Tom! How did
it happen?”
Then they told Mr. Nestor their story,
and how the test of the new Air Scout had led to his
rescue.
“But where are the Secret Service
men?” asked Mr. Terrill, when it became evident
that none them was on guard at the cabin.
Later it developed that, by following
a false clew, the Secret Service men had been drawn
miles away from the cabin. And only that Tom
and his companions in the silent airship saw the men.
Mr. Nestor might not have been rescued for some further
time.
His version of what had happened was
correct. He had been mistaken for Tom, and the
spy with the gold tooth and his accomplice had waylaid
Mary’s father, under the belief that it was
Tom Swift with the plans of the new silent motor.
Mr. Nestor had been attacked while riding his wheel
in a lonely place, and had been carried off and kept
in hiding, a prisoner even after his identity became
known.
“Well, this is a good night’s
work!” exclaimed Tom, when the two rogues had
been sent to jail and Mr. Nestor taken to the Bloise
farmhouse, to be refreshed before he went home.
Word of his rescue was telephoned to Mary and her
mother, and it can be imagined how they regarded Tom
Swift for his part in the affair.
Little the worse for his experience,
save that he was very nervous, Mr. Nestor was taken
home. He gave the details of his being waylaid,
and told how the men, for many days, were at their
wits’ ends to keep him concealed when they found
what a stir his disappearance had created. The
conspirators were well supplied with money, and in
the automobile they took their prisoner from one place
to another. They had usurped the use of the cabin
and had lived there nearly a week in hiding, leaving
just before the first visit of Tom and Jackson.
The rifled wallet had been dropped by accident.
And it did not take much delving to
disclose the fact that, Lydane, “Gold Tooth,”
as he was called, and his crony, were spies in the
pay of the Universal Flying Machine Company. As
the men went under several aliases there is no need
of giving their names. It is to be doubted if
they ever used their real ones—or if they
had any.
Of course, there was quite a sensation
when Mr. Nestor was found, and a greater one when
it became known the part the Universal Flying Machine
people had in his disappearance in mistake for Tom.
The officials of the company were indicted, and several
of the minor ones sent to jail but Gale and Ware escaped
by remaining abroad.
It came out that they both knew of
the acts of Lydane and his companion in crime, and
that the two officials realized the mistake that had
been made by their clumsy operatives. It was
believed that this knowledge led to the visit of Gale
to Tom, the time the latter’s suspicions were
first aroused. Gale made a clumsy attempt to
clear his own skirts of the conspiracy, but in vain,
though he did escape his just punishment.
What had happened, in brief, was this.
Gale and Ware, unable to secure Tom’s services,
even by the offer of a large sum of money, had stooped
to the sending of spies to his shop, to get possession
of information about his silent motor. This was
after Gale had, by accident, heard Tom speaking of
it to Mr. Damon.
But, thanks to Tom’s vigilance,
Bower was discovered. The man tripped into the
mud hole lost in the muck the plans Bower passed to
him. They were never recovered. Then Lydane
tried again. He managed, through bribery, to
gain access to the hangar where the new silent machine
was kept, and, unable to get the silencer apart, tried
to file it. In doing so he weakened it so that
it burst.
The attempt to waylay Tom, and so
get the plans from him, had been tried before this,
only a mistake had been made, and Mr. Nestor was caught
instead. Finding out their error, Lydane and
his companions did not tell the Universal people of
their mistake, though Gale and Ware knew the attempt
was to be made against Tom Swift.
Later, hearing that the young inventor
was still at work on his invention, Gale was much
surprised, and paid his queer visit, in an attempt
to repudiate the actions of Lydane. At this time
it was assumed that Gale and his partner did not know
that it was Mr. Nestor who had been kidnapped by mistake
or they might have insisted on his release. As
it was, Lydane had Mary’s father, and was afraid
to let him go, though really their prisoner became
a white elephant on the hands of the conspirators
and kidnappers.
And it was after all this was cleared
up, and Mr. Nestor restored to his family and friends,
that one day, Tom Swift received another visit from
Mr. Terrill, the government agent.
“Well, Mr. Swift,” was
the genial greeting, “I have come to tell you
that the favorable report made by my friends and myself
as to the performance of your noiseless motor, has
been accepted by the War Department, and I have come
to ask what your terms are. For how much will
you sell your patent to the United States?”
Tom Swift arose.
“The United States hasn’t
money enough to buy my patent of a noiseless motor,”
he said.
“Wha—what!”
faltered Mr. Terrill. “Why, I understood—you
don’t mean—they told me you were rather
patriotic, and—”
“I hope I am patriotic!”
interrupted Tom with a smile. “And when
I say that the United States hasn’t money enough
to buy my latest invention I mean just that.”
“My Air Scout is not for sale!”
“You mean,” faltered the government agent.
“You say—”
“I mean,” went on Tom,
“that Silent Sam is for Uncle Sam without one
cent of cost! My father and I take great pleasure
in presenting such machines as are already manufactured,
those in process of making, and the entire patents,
and all other rights, to the government for the winning
of the war!”
“Oh!” said Mr. Terrill in rather a strange
voice. “Oh!”
And that was all he could say for a little while.
But Tom Swift reckoned without a knowledge
of a peculiar law which prohibits the United States
from accepting gifts totally without compensation,
and so, in due season, the young inventor received
a check for the sum of one dollar in full payment for
his silent motor, and the patent rights thereto.
And Tom has that check framed, and hanging over his
desk.
And so the silent motor became an
accomplished fact and a great success. Those
of you who have read of its work against the Boches,
and how it helped Uncle Sam to gain the mastery of
the sky, need not be reminded of this. By it
many surprise attacks were made, and much valuable
information was obtained that otherwise could not
have been brought in.
One day, after the rogues had been
sent to prison for long terms, and Tom had turned
over to his government his silent aircraft—except
one which he was induced to keep for his own personal
use—the young inventor went to call on Mary
Nestor. The object of his call, as I believe
he stated it, was to see how Mr. Nestor was, but that,
of course, was camouflage.
“Would you like to come for
a ride, Mary, in the silent airship?” asked
Tom, after he had paid his respects to Mr. Nestor
and his wife. “We can talk very easily on
board Silent Sam without the use of a speaking tube.
Come on—we’ll go for a moonlight
sky ride.”
“It sounds enticing,”
said Mary, with a shy look at Tom. “But
wouldn’t you just as soon sit on a bench in the
garden? It’s moonlight there, and we can
talk, and—and—”
“I’d just as soon!” said Tom quickly.
And out they went into the beautiful
moonlight; and here we will leave them and say good-bye.
THE END