Tom Swift and His Great Searchlight Part 4

As the boys were coming out of the drug store, where they had eaten their ice cream in the form of sundaes, Ned uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of a man approaching them.

"It's Mr. Dillon, the carpenter whom we saw in the Foger house, Tom!" exclaimed his chum. "This is the first chance I've had to talk to him. I'm going to ask him what sort of repairs he's making inside the old mansion." Ned was soon in conversation with him.

"Yes, I'm working at the Foger house," admitted the carpenter, who had done some work for Ned's father. "Mighty queer repairs, too.

Something I never did before. If Andy wasn't there to tell me what he wanted done I wouldn't know what to do."

"Is Andy there yet?" asked Tom quickly.

"Yes, he's staying in the old house. All alone too, except now and then, he has a chum stay there nights with him. They get their own meals. I bring the stuff in, as Andy says he's getting up a surprise and doesn't want any of the boys to see him, or ask questions. But they are sure queer repairs I'm doing," and the carpenter scratched his head reflectively.

"What are you doing?" asked Ned boldly.

"Fixing up Andy's old airs.h.i.+p that was once busted," was the unexpected answer, "and after I get that done, if I ever do, he wants me to make a platform for it on the roof of the house, where he can start it swooping through the air. Mighty queer repairs, I call 'em. Well, good evening, boys," and the carpenter pa.s.sed on.

CHAPTER IV

SEARCHING FOR SMUGGLERS.

"Well, of all things!"

"Who in the world would think such a thing?"

"Andy going to start out with his airs.h.i.+p again!"

"And going to sail it off the roof of his house!"

These were the alternate expressions that came from Tom and Ned, as they stood gazing at each other after the startling information given them by Mr. Dillon, the carpenter.

"Do you really think he means it?" asked Tom, after a pause, during which they watched the retreating figure of the carpenter. "Maybe he was fooling us."

"No, Mr. Dillon seldom jokes," replied Ned, "and when he does, you can always tell. He goes to our church, and I know he wouldn't deliberately tell an untruth. Oh. Andy's up to some game all right."

"I thought he must be hanging around here the way he has been, instead of being home. But I admit I may have been wrong about the police being after him. If he'd done something wrong, he would hardly hire a man to work on the house while he was hiding in it. I guess he just wants to keep out of the way of everybody but his own particular cronies. But I wonder what he is up to, anyhow; getting his airs.h.i.+p in shape again?"

"Give it up, unless there's an aero meet on somewhere soon," replied Ned. "Maybe he's going to try a race again."

Tom shook his head.

"I'd have heard about any aviation meets, if there were any scheduled," he replied. "I belong to the national a.s.sociation, and they send out circulars whenever there are to be races. None are on for this season. No, Andy has some other game."

"Well, I don't know that it concerns us," spoke Ned.

"Not as long as he doesn't bother me," answered the young inventor.

"Well, Ned, I suppose you'll be over in the morning and help me try out the noiseless airs.h.i.+p?"

"Sure thing. Say, it was queer, about that government agent, wasn't it? suspecting you of supplying airs.h.i.+ps to the smugglers?"

"Rather odd," agreed Tom. "He might much better suspect Andy Foger."

"That's so, and now that we know Andy is rebuilding his old airs.h.i.+p, maybe we'd better tell him."

"Tell who?"

"That government agent. Tell him he's wrong in thinking that Andy is out of the game. We might send him word that we just learned that Andy is getting active again. He has as much right to suspect and question him, as he had you."

"Oh, I don't know," began Tom slowly. He was not a vindicative youth, nor, for that matter, was Ned. And Tom would not go out of his way to give information about an enemy, when it was not certain that the said enemy meant anything wrong. "I don't believe there's anything in it," finished our hero. "Andy may have a lot of time on his hands, and, for want of something better to do, he's fixing up his aeroplane."

"Look!" suddenly exclaimed Ned. "There's that agent now! He's going to the depot to get a train, I guess," and he pointed to the government man, who had so lately interviewed Tom. "I'm going to speak to him!" impulsively declared Ned.

"I wouldn't," objected Tom, but his chum had already hastened on ahead, and soon was seen talking excitedly to Mr. Whitford. Tom sauntered up in time to hear the close of the conversation.

"I'm much obliged to you for your information," said the custom officer, "but I'm afraid, just as you say your chum felt about it, that there's nothing in it. This Foger chap may have been bad in the past, but I hardly think he's in with the smugglers. What I'm looking for is not a lad who has one airs.h.i.+p, but someone who is making a lot of them, and supplying the men who are running goods over the border. That's the sort of game I'm after, and if this Andy Foger only has one aeroplane I hardly think he can be very dangerous."

"Well, perhaps not," admitted Ned. "But I thought I'd tell you."

"And I'm glad you did. If you hear anything more. I'll be glad to have you let me know. Here's my card," and thanking the boys for their interest Mr. Whitford pa.s.sed on.

Tom and Ned gave the noiseless airs.h.i.+p a test the next day. The craft, which was the stanch Falcon, remodeled, was run out of the shed, Koku the giant helping, while Mr. Swift stood looking on, an interested spectator of what his son was about to do. Eradicate, the old colored man, who was driving his mule Boomerang, hitched to a wagon in which he was carting away some refuse that had been raked up in the garden, halted his outfit nearby.

"I say, Ma.s.sa Tom!" he called, as the young inventor pa.s.sed near him, in making a tour of the s.h.i.+p.

"Well, Rad, what is it?"

"Doan't yo'-all want fo' ma an' Boomerang t' gib yo'-all a tow?

Mebby dat new-fangled contraption yo'-all has done put on yo' s.h.i.+p won't wuk, an' mebby I'd better stick around t' pull yo'-all home."

"No, Rad, I guess it will work all right. If it doesn't, and we get stuck out a mile or two, I'll send you a wireless message."

"Doan't do dat!" begged the colored man. "I neber could read dem wireless letters anyhow. Jest gib a shout, an' me an' Boomerang will come a-runnin'."

"All right, Rad, I will. Now, Ned, is everything in shape?"

"I think so, Tom."

"Koku, just put a little more wind in those tires. But don't pump as hard as you did the other day," Tom cautioned.

"What happened then?" asked Ned.

"Oh, Koku forgot that he had so much muscle, and he kept on pumping air into the bicycle wheel tires until he burst one. Go easy this time, Koku."

"I will, Mr. Tom," and the giant took the air pump.

"Is he going along?" asked Ned, as he looked to see that all the guy wires and stays were tight.