Camouflaged
Two utterances Tom Swift made when
the fact of the disappearance of the tank became known
to him were characteristic of the young inventor.
The first was:
“How did they get it away?”
And the second was:
“Come on, let’s get after ’em!”
Then, for a few moments, no one said
anything. Tom, Ned, and Mr. Damon, with Mrs.
Baggert in the background, stood looking at the great
empty machine shop.
“Well, they got her,”
went on Tom, with a sigh. “I was afraid
of this as soon as they left me alone at the factory.”
“Is anything wrong?” faltered
the housekeeper. “Didn’t you send
for the tank, Tom?”
“No, Mrs. Baggert, I didn’t,” Tom
answered.
“But I don’t understand,”
the housekeeper said. “A man came with
a note from you, Tom, and in it you said to have him
take the tank, with Koku and the men who know how to
run it. We were so glad to hear from you, and
know that you were all right, that we didn’t
think of anything else, your father and I. So he went
out and saw that the tank got off all right.
Koku was glad, for it’s the first chance he’d
had to ride in it.”
“Who was the man who brought
the note?” asked Tom, and he was striving to
be calm. “To think of poor old dad playing
right into the hands of the plotters!” he added,
in an aside to Ned.
“Well, I don’t know who
the man was,” said Mrs. Baggert. “He
seemed all right, and of course having a note from
you—”
“Who has that note now?” asked Tom quickly.
“Your father.”
“Come on,” and Tom led
the way back to the house. “I’ll
have a look at that document, which of course I never
wrote, and then we’ll get after the plotters
and the tank.”
“She ought to be easy to trace,”
observed Mr. Damon. “Bless my fountain
pen, but she ought to be easy to trace! She will
leave a track like a giant boa constrictor crawling
along.”
“Yes, I guess we can trace her,
all right,” assented Tom Swift; “but the
point is, will there be anything left of her?
What’s what I’m afraid of now.”
Mr. Swift was still excited, but his
worry had subsided as soon as he knew Tom was safe.
“The whole thing is a forgery,
but fairly well done,” Tom said, as he looked
at the paper his father gave him—a brief
note stating that Tom was well, but detained on business,
and that the tank was to be brought to him, just where
the bearer of the note would indicate. Koku,
the giant, and several of the machinists, who knew
how to operate the big machine, were to go with it,
the note said.
“That made me sure everything
was all right,” said Mr. Swift. “I
knew, of course, Tom, that plotters might try to get
hold of your war secret, but I didn’t see how
they could if Koku and some of your own men were in
possession.”
“They couldn’t—as
long as they remained in possession,” Tom said.
“But that’s the trouble. I’m
afraid they haven’t. What has probably
happened is that under the direction of this man,
who brought the forged note from me, Koku and the
others took the tank where he directed them, thinking
to meet me. Then, reaching the place where the
rest of the plotters were concealed, they overpowered
Koku and the others and took possession of the machine.”
“They’d have trouble with Koku,”
suggested Ned.
“Yes, but even a giant can’t
fight too big a crowd, especially if he is taken by
surprise, and that’s probably what happened,”
remarked Tom. “Now the question is where
is the tank, and how can we get her back? Every
minute counts. If those German spies and their
helpers remain in possession long, they’ll find
out enough of my secrets to enable them to duplicate
the machine, and especially some of the most exclusive
features. We’ve got to get after ’em!”
“They imitated your writing
pretty well, Tom,” Observed Ned, as he looked
at the forged note.
“Yes; that’s why they
took all my papers away from me—to get
specimens of my handwriting. I half suspected
that, but I didn’t quite figure out what their
game was. Well, we know the worst now, and that’s
better than working in the dark. Now I’m
going to have a bath and get into some decent clothes,
and we’ll see what we can do.”
“Count on me, Tom!” exclaimed
Ned. “I’ll go the limit with you!”
“I knew you would, old man!”
“And me, too!” cried Mr.
Damon. “Bless my open fireplace, but I’ll
send word to my wife that I’m not coming home
to-night, and we can start the first thing in the
morning, Tom.”
“Yes; there isn’t much
use in going now, as it will soon be dark.”
“How are you going to trace
the tank, Tom?” asked Ned, when his chum had
bathed and gotten into fresh clothes.
“I’m going to tour the
country around here in an auto. The tank can
make ten miles an hour, but that’s nothing to
what an auto can do. And we oughtn’t to
have much trouble in tracing her. No one whose
house she passed would forget her in a hurry.”
“That’s so,” agreed
Ned. “But if they took her across country—”
“A different story,” agreed
Tom. “Come to think of it, maybe we’d
better start to-night, Ned. We can make inquiries
after dark as well as by daylight and get ready for
an early morning hunt”
“Let’s do it, then!”
suggested his chum. “I’m ready.
I’ll send word that I’ll not be home to-night.”
“Good!” cried the young
inventor. “We’ll have an old-fashioned
hunt after our enemies, Ned!”
“And don’t leave me out!”
begged Mr. Damon. Hurried preparations were made
for the night trip. Tom ordered out one of his
speediest, though not largest, automobiles, and told
his helper to get the Hawk ready, to have her so she
could start at a moment’s notice if needed.
“You’re not going in her,
are you, Tom?” asked Ned.
“I may need her to-morrow for
daylight hunting. If the tank’s hidden
somewhere, I can spot her from above more easily than
from the ground. So if we get any trace of my
machine, I can phone in and have the aeroplane brought
to me.”
“That’s a good idea!”
Inquiry at the shop where the tank
had been built and kept disclosed the fact that, in
addition to Koku, three of Tom’s men had gone
in her to help manage the machine under the direction
of the man who bore the forged note. That he was
one of the plotters not hitherto observed by either
Ned or Tom seemed certain.
“And they took Koku and some
of the men merely to make it look natural and as if
it were all right,” Tom said. “Naturally
that deceived my father, who thought, of course, that
I was waiting for the machine. Well, it was a
slick trick, Ned, but we may fool them yet.”
“I hope so, Tom.”
Night had fully fallen when Tom, Ned,
and Mr. Damon started away in the touring car.
Out onto the road rolled the automobile.
During the little daylight that had remained after
his arrival at home and following the discovery of
the loss of the tank Tom and Ned had traced it, by
the marks of the big steel caterpillar belts, to the
main road. It had gone along that some distance,
just how far could not be said.
“But by using the searchlight
of the auto we can trace her as long as they keep
her on the road,” said Tom. “After
that we’ll have to trust to luck, and to what
inquiries we can make.”
The touring car carried a powerful
lamp, and by its gleams it was easy to trace for a
time the progress of the ponderous tank. There
was no need to make inquiries of persons living along
the way, though once or twice Tom did get out to ask,
confirming the fact that the big machine had rumbled
past in a direction away from the Swift home.
“I had an idea they might have
doubled on their tracks for a time, and backed her
up just to fool us,” Tom said. “They
might do that, keeping her in the same tracks.”
But this, evidently, had not been
done, and the tank was making good speed away from
the Swift Louse. They kept up the search until
about midnight, and then a heavy rain began just before
they reached a point where several roads branched.
“Luck’s with them!”
exclaimed Tom. “This will wash away the
marks, and we’ll have to go it blind. Might
as well put up here for the night,” he added,
as they came to a village hotel.
It was evident that little more could
be done in the rain and darkness, and there was danger
of over-running the trail of the tank if they kept
on. So they turned in at the hotel and got what
little rest they could in their anxious state of minds.
Tom tried to be cheerful and to look
for the best, but it was hard work. The tank
was his pet invention, and, moreover, that her secrets
should fall into the hands of the enemy and be used
for Germany and against the United States eventually,
made the young inventor feel that everything was going
wrong.
The rain kept up all night, and this
would make it correspondingly hard for them to pick
up the trail in the morning.
“The only thing we can do is
to make inquiries,” decided Tom. “Fortunately,
the tank can’t easily be hidden.”
They started off after an early breakfast.
The roads were so muddy and wet that traveling was
difficult and dangerous for the automobile, and they
were disappointed in finding no one who had seen or
heard the tank pass up to a point not far from the
hotel where they had stayed overnight. From then
on the big machine seemed to have disappeared.
“I know what they’ve done,”
Tom said, when noon came and they had found no trace
of the ponderous war machine. “They’ve
left the road and taken her cross country, and we
can’t find the spot where they did this because
the rain has washed out the marks. Well, there’s
only one thing left to do.”
“What’s that?” asked Ned.
“Get the Hawk! In that
we can look down and over a big extent of country.
That’s what I’ll do—I’ll
phone for the airship. The rain is stopping,
I think.”
The rain did cease by the time one
of Tom’s men brought the speedy aircraft to
the place named by the young inventor in his telephone
message. There were still several hours of daylight
left, and Tom counted on them to allow him to rise
in the air and look down on the tanks possible hiding
place.
“One thing’s sure,”
he told Ned: “I know the limit of her speed,
and she can’t be farther off than at some place
within a circle of about one hundred and twenty-five
miles from my house. And it’s in the direction
we’re in. So if I circle around up above,
I may spot her.”
“I hope so,” murmured Ned.
It was arranged that Mr. Damon should
take the automobile back, with Tom’s mechanician
in it, and Tom and Ned would scout around in the aircraft,
which carried only two.
“You ought to have a machine
gun with you, Tom, if you plan to attack those fellows
to get back the tank,” Ned said.
“Oh, I don’t imagine I’ll
need it,” he said. “Anyhow, a machine
gun wouldn’t be of much effect against the tank.
And they can’t fire on us, for there wasn’t
any ammunition for the guns in Tank A, unless they
got some of their own, and I hardly believe they’d
do that. I’ll take a chance, anyhow.”
And so the search from the air began.
It was disappointing at first. Around and around
circled Tom and Ned, their eyes peering eagerly down
from the heights for a sight of the tank, possibly
hidden in some little-known ravine or gully.
Back and forth, like a speck in the
sky, Tom guided the Hawk, while Ned took observation
after observation with the binoculars.
At last, when the low-sinking sun
gave warning that night would soon be upon them, Ned’s
glasses picked up something on the ground far below
that made him sit suddenly straighter in his seat.
“What is it?” asked Tom
through the speaking apparatus, feeling the movement
on the part of his chum.
“I see something down there,
Tom,” was the answer. “It doesn’t
look like the tank, and yet it doesn’t look as
a clump of trees and bushes ought to look. Have
a peep yourself. It’s just beyond that
river, against the side of the hill—a lonesome
place, too.”
Tom took the glasses while Ned assumed
control of the Hawk, there being a dual system for
operating and steering her.
No sooner had the young inventor got
the focus on what Ned had indicated than he gave a
cry.
“What is it?” asked the young bank clerk.
“Camouflaged!” cried Tom,
and without stopping to explain what he meant, he
handed the binoculars back to Ned and began to guide
the Hawk down toward the earth at high speed.