The young inventor told more details
of his adventure in the woods, but, though the farmers
questioned him closely, he would not give a single
name of his assailants.
“But I should think you’d
want to have them punished,” remarked Mr. Mason.
“I’ll attend to that part
later,” answered Tom. “Besides, most
of them didn’t know what they were doing.
They were led on by one or two. No, I’ll
fight my own battles. But I wish you’d lend
me a lantern long enough to find my motor-cycle.
The moon doesn’t give much light in the woods,
and those fellows may have hidden my machine.”
Mr. Mason and his companions readily
agreed to accompany Tom on a search for his wheel.
It was found just where he had dismounted from it
in the road. Andy and his cronies had evidently
had enough of their encounter with our hero, and did
not dare to annoy him further.
“Do you think you can ride home?”
asked one of the farmers of the lad, when he had ascertained
that his machine was in running order.
“Well, it’s risky without
my lantern,” answered Tom. “They
smashed that for me. But I guess I can manage.”
“No, you can’t!”
insisted Mr. Mason. “You’re stiff
from being tied up; and you can’t ride.
Now you just wheel that contraption over to my place,
and I’ll hitch up and take you home. It
isn’t far.”
“Oh, I couldn’t think
of troubling you,” declared Tom. At the
same time he felt that he was in no condition to ride.
“It’s no trouble at all,”
insisted Mr. Mason. “I guess your father
and I are good enough friends to allow me to have my
way. You can come over and get your choo-choo
bicycle in the morning.”
A little later Tom was being rapidly
driven toward his home, where he found his father
and Mrs. Baggert, to say nothing of Mr. Sharp, somewhat
alarmed over his absence, as it was getting late.
The youth told as much of his adventure as he thought
would not alarm his father, making a sort of joke
of it, and, later, related all the details to the
balloonist.
“We’ll have to get after
Andy again,” declared the aeronaut. “He
needs another toning down.”
“Yes, similar to the one he
got when we nearly ran away with his automobile, by
catching the airship anchor on it,” added Tom
with a laugh. “But I fancy Andy will steer
clear of me for a while. I’m sorry I had
to use up that chemical powder, though. Now I
can’t start my battery until to-morrow.”
But the next day Tom made up for lost time, by working
from early until late. He went over to Mr. Mason’s,
got his motor-cycle, procured some more of the chemical,
and soon had his storage battery in running order.
Then he arranged for a more severe test, and while
that was going on he worked at completing the body
of the electric runabout. The vehicle was beginning
to look like a car, though it was not of the regulation
pattern.
For the next week Tom was very busy,
so occupied, in fact, that he scarcely took time for
his meals, which caused Mrs. Baggert no little worriment,
for she was a housekeeper who liked to see others
enjoy her cooking.
“Well, Tom, how are you coming
on?” asked his father one night, as they sat
on the porch, Mr. Sharp with them.
“Pretty well, Dad,” was
the answer of the young inventor. “I’ll
put the wheels on to-morrow, and then set the batteries.
I’ve got the motor all finished; and all I’ll
have to do will be to connect it up, and then I’ll
be ready for a trial on the road.”
“And you still think you’ll beat all records?”
“I’m pretty sure of it,
Dad. You see the amperage will be exceptionally
high, and my batteries will have a large amount of
reserve, with little internal resistance. But
do you know I’m so tired I can hardly think.
It’s more of a job than I thought it would be.”
Tom, a little later, strolled down
the road. As he turned back toward the house
and walked up the shrubbery lined path he heard a
noise.
“Some one’s hiding in
there!” thought the lad, and he darted to an
opening in the hedge to reach the other side.
As he did so he saw a figure running away. Whether
it was a man or a boy he could not tell in the darkness.
“Hold on there!” cried
the young inventor, but, naturally, the fleeing one
did not stop. Tom began to sprint, and as it was
slightly down hill, he made good time. The figure
ahead of him was running well, too, but Tom who could
see better, now that he was out from under the trees,
noticed that he was gaining. The fleeing one
came to a little brook, and hesitated a moment before
leaping across. This enabled Tom to catch up,
and he made a grab for the figure, just as the man
or boy sprang across the little stream.
Tom missed his grip, but he was not
going to give up. He scarcely slackened his speed,
but, with the momentum he had acquired in racing down
the hill, he, too, leaped across the brook. As
he landed on the other side he made another grab for
the figure, a man, as Tom could now see, but he could
make out no features, as the person’s hat was
pulled down over his face.
“I’ve got you now!”
cried Tom exultantly, reaching out his hand.
His fingers clutched something, but the next instant
the young inventor went sprawling. The other
had put out his foot, and tripped him neatly and,
Tom throwing out his hands to save himself in the
fall that was inevitable, went splashing into the
brook at full length. The unknown, pausing a moment
to view what he had done, turned quickly and raced
off in the darkness.