More surprised than hurt, and with
a feeling of chagrin and anger at the trick which
had been played on him, Tom managed to scramble out
of the brook. The water was not deep, but he had
splashed in with such force that he was wet all over.
And, as he got up, the water dripping from his clothes,
the lad was conscious of a pain in his head.
He put up his hand, and found that contact with a
stone had raised a large lump on his forehead.
It was as big as a hen’s egg.
“Humph! I’ll be a
pretty sight to-morrow,” murmured Tom. “I
wonder who that fellow was, anyhow, and what he wanted?
He tripped me neatly enough, whoever he was.
I’ve a good notion to keep on after him.”
Then, as he realized what a start
the fleeing one had, the young inventor knew that
it would be fruitless to renew the chase. Slowly
he ascended the sloping bank, and started for home.
As he did so he realized that he had, clasped in his
fingers, something he had grabbed from the person
he was pursuing just before his unlucky tumble.
“It’s part of his watch
chain!” exclaimed Tom, as he felt of the article.
“I must have ripped it loose when I fell.
Wonder what it is? Evidently some sort of a charm.
Maybe it will be a clue.” He tried to
discern of what style it was, but in the dark woods
this was impossible. Then the lad tried to strike
a match, but those in his pocket had become wet from
his unexpected bath. “I’ll have to
wait until I get home,” he went on, and he hastened
his steps, for he was anxious to see what he had torn
loose from the person who appeared to be spying on
him.
“Why Tom, what’s the matter?”
exclaimed Mrs. Baggert, when he entered the kitchen,
dripping water at every step. “Is it raining
outside? I didn’t hear any storm.”
“It was raining where I was,”
replied Tom angrily. “I fell in the brook.
It was so hot I thought I’d cool off.”
“With your best suit on!”
ejaculated the housekeeper.
“It isn’t my best,”
retorted the lad. “But I went in before
I thought. It was an accident; I fell,”
he added, lest Mrs. Baggert take his joking remarks
seriously. He did not want to tell her of the
chase.
The chief concern of the lad now was
to look at the charm and, as soon as Mrs. Baggert’s
attention was attracted elsewhere, Tom glanced at
the object he still held tightly clenched in his hand.
As the light from the kitchen fell upon it he could
hardly repress an exclamation of astonishment.
For the charm that he held in his
hand was one he had seen before dangling from the
watch chain of Addison Berg, the agent for Bentley
& Eagert, submarine boat builders, which firm had,
as told in “Tom Swift and His Submarine,”
tried unsuccessfully to secure the gold treasure from
the sunken wreck. Berg and his associates had
even gone so far as to try to disable the Advance,
the boat of Tom and his father, by ramming her when
deep down under the ocean, but Mr. Swift’s use
of an electric cannon had broken the steering gear
of the Wonder, the rival craft, and from that time
on Tom and his friends had a clear field to search
for the bullion held fast in the hold of the Boldero.
“Addison Berg,” murmured Tom, as he looked
at the watch charm. “What can he be doing
in this neighborhood? Hiding, too, as if he wanted
to overhear something. That’s the way he
did when we were building our submarine, and now he’s
up to the same trick when I’m constructing my
electric car. I’m sure this charm is his.
It is such a peculiar design that I’m positive
I can’t be mistaken. I thought, when I
was chasing after him, that it would turn out to be
Andy Foger, or some of the boys, but it was too big
for them. Addison Berg, eh? What can he
be doing around here? I must not tell Dad, or
he’d worry himself sick. But I must be on
my guard.”
Tom examined the charm closely.
It was a compass, but made in an odd form, and was
much ornamented.
The young inventor had noticed it
on several occasions when he had been in conversation
with Mr. Berg previous to the attempt on the part
of the owners of the rival submarine to wreck Tom’s
boat. He felt that he could not be mistaken in
identifying the charm.
“Berg was afraid I’d catch
him, and ask for an explanation that would have been
awkward to make,” thought the lad, as he turned
the charm over in his hand. “That’s
why he tripped me up. But I’ll get at the
bottom of this yet. Maybe he wants to steal my
ideas for an electric car.”
Tom’s musings were suddenly
interrupted by Mrs. Baggert.
“I hope you’re not going
to stand there all night,” she said, with a
laugh. “You’re in the middle of a
puddle now, but when you get over dreaming I’d
like to mop it up.”
“All right,” agreed the
young inventor, coming to himself suddenly. “Guess
I’d better go get some dry clothes on.”
“You’d better go to bed,”
advised Mrs. Baggert. “That’s where
your father and Mr. Sharp are. It’s late.”
The more Tom thought over the strange
occurrence the more it puzzled him. He mused
over the presence of Berg as he went about his work
the next day, for that it was the agent whom he had
pursued he felt positive.
“But I can’t figure out
why he was hanging around here,” mused Tom.
Then, as he found that his thoughts
over the matter were interfering with his work, he
resolutely put them from him, and threw himself energetically
into the labor of completing his electric car.
The new batteries, he found, were working well, and
in the next two days he had constructed several more,
joining them so as to get the combined effect.
It was the afternoon of the third
day from Tom’s unexpected fall into the brook
that the young inventor decided on the first important
test of his new device. He was going to try the
motor, running it with his storage battery. Some
of the connections were already in place, the wires
being fastened to the side of the shop, where they
were attached to switches. Tom did not go over
these, taking it for granted that they were all right.
He soon had the motor, which he was to install in
his car, wired to the battery, and then he attached
a gauge, to ascertain, by comparison, how many miles
he could hope to travel on one charging of the storage
battery.
“Guess I’ll call Dad and
Mr. Sharp in to see how it works, before I turn on
the current,” he said to himself. He was
about to summon his parent and the aeronaut from an
adjoining shop, where they were working over a new
form of dynamo, when the lad caught sight of the watch
charm he had left on his desk, in plain sight.
“Better put that away,”
he remarked. “Dad or Mr. Sharp might see
it, and ask questions. Then I’d have to
explain, and I don’t want to, not until I get
further toward the bottom of this thing.”
He put the charm away, and then summoned
his father and the balloonist.
“You’re going to see a
fine experiment,” declared Tom. “I’m
going to turn on the full strength of my battery.”
“Are you sure it’s all
right, Tom?” asked his father. “You
can’t be too careful when you’re dealing
with electricity of high voltage, and great ampere
strength.
“Oh, it’s all right, Dad,”
his son assured him “Now watch my motor hum.”
He walked over to a big copper switch,
and grasped the black rubber handle to pull it over
which would send the current from the storage battery
into the combination of wheels and gears that he hoped,
ultimately, would propel his electric automobile along
the highways, or on a track, at the rate of a hundred
miles an hour.
“Here she goes!” cried
Tom. For an instant he hesitated and then pulled
the switch. At the same time his hand rested on
another wire, stretched across a bench.
No sooner had the switch closed than
there was a blinding flash, a report as of a gun being
fired, and Tom’s body seemed to straighten out.
Then a blue flame appeared to encircle him and he
dropped to the floor of the shop, an inert mass.
“He’s killed!” cried Mr. Swift,
springing forward.
“Careful!” cautioned the
balloonist. “He’s been shocked!
Don’t touch him until I turn off the current!”
As he pulled out the switch, the aeronaut gave a
glance at the apparatus.
“There’s something wrong
here!” he cried. “The wires have been
crossed! That’s what shocked Tom, but he
never made the wrong connections! He’s
too good an electrician! There’s been some
one in this shop, changing the wires!”