Tom Swift and His Photo Telephone Part 32

The men--there were four or five of them, Ned guessed--now broke into a run, still carrying among them the inert form of another.

The cries for help had ceased, and it seemed as if the unfortunate one was unconscious.

A moment later, and before the boys could do anything, had they the power, the men fairly jumped aboard Tom Swift's biggest airs.h.i.+p. The unconscious one was carried with them.

Then the motor was speeded up. The roar and throbbing were almost deafening.

"Stop that! Hold on! That's my machine!" yelled Tom.

He might as well have spoken to the wind. With a rush and a roar the big Eagle shot away and upward, carrying the men and their mysterious, unconscious companion. It was getting too dark for Tom and Ned to make out the forms or features of the strangers.

"We're too late!" said Ned, hopelessly.

"Yes, they got away," agreed Tom. "Oh, if only I had my speedy little monoplane!"

"But who can they be? How did your airs.h.i.+p get here? And who is that man they carried out of the house?" cried Ned.

"I don't know the last--maybe one of their crowd who was injured in a fight."

"What crowd?"

"The Peters gang, of course. Can't you see it, Ned?"

Unable to do anything, the two youths watched the flight of the Eagle. She did not move at her usual speed, for she was carrying too heavy a load.

Presently from the air overhead, and slightly behind them, the boys heard the sound of another motor. They turned quickly.

"Look!" cried Ned. "Another airs.h.i.+p, by all that's wonderful!"

"If we could only stop them!" exclaimed Tom. "That's a big machine, and they could take us aboard. Then we could chase the Eagle. We could catch her, too, for she's overloaded!"

Frantically he and Tom waved their caps at the man who was now almost overhead in his airs.h.i.+p. The boys did not call. They well knew, with the noise of the motor, the occupant of the airs.h.i.+p could not hear them. But they waved and pointed to the slowly-moving Eagle.

To their surprise and delight the man above them shut off his engine, and seemed about to come down. Then Tom cried, knowing he could be heard:

"Help us capture that airs.h.i.+p? It's mine and they've stolen it!"

"All right! Be with you in a minute!" came back the answer from above.

The second biplane came down to earth, ands as it ceased running along on its bicycle wheels, the occupant jumped out.

"h.e.l.lo, Tom Swift!" he called, as he took off his goggles.

"Why--why it's Mr. Halling!" cried the young inventor, in delight, recognizing the birdman who had brought him the first news of Mr.

Damon's trouble, the day the airs.h.i.+p became entangled in the aerials of the wireless on Tom's house.

"What are you doing here, Tom?" asked Mr. Hailing. "What has happened?"

"We're looking for Mr. Damon. That's a bad crowd there," and he pointed toward the other aircraft. "They have my Eagle. Can you help me catch them?"

"I certainly can--and will! Get aboard! I can carry four."

"Then you have a new machine?"

"Yes, and a dandy! All the latest improvements--self-starter and all! I'm glad of a chance to show it to you."

"And I'm glad, too!" cried Tom. "It was providential that you happened along. What were you doing here?"

"Just out on a trial spin. But come on, if we're going to catch those fellows!"

Quickly Tom, Ned, and Mr. Halling climbed into the seats of the new airs.h.i.+p. It was started from a switch, and in a few seconds it was on the wing, chasing after the Eagle.

Then began a strange race, a race in the air after the unknown strangers who had Tom's machine. Had the Eagle not been so heavily laden it might have escaped, for Tom's craft was a speedy one. But this time it had to give the palm to Mr. Grant Halling's. Faster and faster in pursuit flew the Star, as the new craft was called.

Faster and faster, until at last, coming directly over the Eagle, Mr. Halling sent his craft down in such a manner as to "blanket"

the other. In an instant she began to sink, and with cries of alarm the men shut off the motor and started to volplane to the earth.

But they made an unskillful landing. The Eagle tilted to one side, and came down with a crash. There were cries of pain, then silence, and a few seconds later two men ran away from the disabled airs.h.i.+p. But there were three senseless forms on the ground beside the craft when Tom, Ned and Mr. Halling ran up. In the fading light Tom saw a face he knew--three faces in fact.

"Mr. Damon!" he cried. "We've found him, Ned!"

"But--too late--maybe!" answered Ned, in a low voice, as he, too, recognized the man who had been missing so long.

Mr. Halling was bending over the unconscious form of his friend.

"He's alive!" he cried, joyfully. "And not much hurt, either. But he has been ill, and looks half starved. Who are these men?"

Tom gave a hasty look.

"Shallock Peters and Harrison Boylan!" he cried. "Ned, at last we've caught the scoundrels!"

It was true. Chance had played into the hands of Tom Swift. While Mr. Halling was looking after Mr. Damon, reviving him, the young inventor and Ned quickly bound the hands and feet of the two plotters with pieces of wire from the broken airs.h.i.+p.

Presently Mr. Damon opened his eyes.

"Where am I? What happened? Oh, bless my watch chain--it's Tom Swift! Bless my cigar case, I--"

"He's all right!" cried Tom, joyfully. "When Mr. Damon blesses something beside his tombstone he's all right."

Peters and Boylan soon revived, both being merely stunned, as was Mr. Damon. They looked about in wonder, and then, feeling that they were prisoners, resigned themselves to their fate. Both men were shabbily dressed, and Tom would hardly have known the once spick and span Mr. Peters. He had no rose in his b.u.t.tonhole now.

"Well, you have me, I see," he said, coolly. "I was afraid we were playing for too high a stake."

"Yes, we've got you," replied Tom,

"But you can't prove much against me," went on Peters. "I'll deny everything."

"We'll see about that," added the young inventor, grimly, and thought of the picture in the plate and the record on the wax cylinder.

"We've got to get Mr. Damon to some place where he can be looked after," broke in Mr. Halling. "Then we'll hear the story."