Tom Swift and His Sky Racer; Or The Quickest Flight on Record Read online

  Chapter Eight

  The Empty Shed

  "Bless my dark-lantern! Where are you, Tom?" called Mr. Damon as heentered the dim shed where the somewhat frail-appearing aeroplaneloomed up in the semi-darkness, for it was afternoon, and rathercloudy. "Where are you?"

  "Here!" called the young inventor. "I'm glad to see you! Come in!"

  "Ah! there it is, eh?" exclaimed the odd man, as he looked at theaeroplane, for there had been much work done on it since he had lastseen it. "Bless my parachute, Tom! But it looks as though you couldblow it over."

  "It's stronger than it seems," replied the lad. "But, Mr. Damon, I'vegot something very important to talk to you about."

  Thereupon Tom told all about Mr. Sharp's visit, of Andy's entry in thebig race, and of the suspicions of himself and the balloonist.

  "And what is it you wish me to do?" asked Mr. Damon.

  "Work up some clues against Andy Foger."

  "Good! I'll do it! I'd like to get ahead of that bully and his father,who once tried to wreck the bank I'm interested in. I'll help you, Tom!I'll play detective! Let me see--what disguise shall I assume? I thinkI'll take the part of a tramp. Bless my ham sandwich! That will be thevery thing. I'll get some ragged clothes, let my beard grow again--yousee I shaved it off since my last visit--and I'll go around to theFoger place and ask for work. Then I can get inside the shed and lookaround. How's that for a plan?"

  "It might be all right," agreed Tom, "only I don't believe you're cutout for the part of a tramp, Mr. Damon."

  "Bless my fingernails! Why not?"

  "Oh, well, it isn't very pleasant to go around in ragged clothes."

  "Don't mind about me. I'll do it." And the odd gentleman seemed quitedelighted at the idea. He and Tom talked it over at some length, andthen adjourned to the house, where Mr. Swift, who had seemed to improvein the last few days, was told of the plan.

  "Couldn't you go around after evidence just as you are?" asked the agedinventor. "I don't much care for this disguising business."

  "Oh, it's very necessary," insisted Mr. Damon earnestly. "Bless mygizzard! but it's very necessary. Why, if I went around the Foger placeas I am now, they'd know me in a minute, and I couldn't find out what Iwant to know."

  "Well, if you keep on blessing yourself," said Tom, with a laugh,"they'll know you, no matter what disguise you put on, Mr. Damon."

  "That's so," admitted the eccentric gentleman. "I must break myself ofthat habit. I will. Bless my topknot! I'll never do it any more. Blessmy trousers buttons!"

  "I'm afraid you'll never do it!" exclaimed Tom.

  "It is rather hard," said Mr. Damon ruefully, as he realized what hehad said. "But I'll do it. Bless--"

  He paused a moment, looked at Tom and his father, and then burst into alaugh. The habit was more firmly fastened on him than he was aware.

  For several hours Tom, his father and Mr. Damon discussed variousmethods of proceeding, and it was finally agreed that Mr. Damon shouldfirst try to learn what Andy was doing, if anything, without resortingto a disguise.

  "Then, if that doesn't work, I'll become a tramp," was the decision ofthe odd character. "I'll wear the raggedest clothes I can find Bless--"But he stopped in time.

  Mr. Damon took up his residence in the Swift household, as he had oftendone before, and for the next week he went and came as he pleased,sometimes being away all night.

  "It's no use, though," declared Mr. Damon at the end of the week. "Ican't get anywhere near that shed, nor even get a glimpse inside of it.I haven't been able to learn anything, either. There are two gardenerson guard all the while, and several times when I've tried to go in theside gate, they've stopped me."

  "Isn't there any news of Andy about town?" asked Tom. "I should thinkSam or Pete would know where he is."

  "Well, I didn't ask them, for they'd know right away why I wasinquiring," said Mr. Damon, "but it seems to me as if there wassomething queer going on. If Andy Foger is working in that shed of his,he's keeping mighty quiet about it. Bless my--"

  And once more he stopped in time. He was conquering the habit in ameasure.

  "Well, what do you propose to do next?" asked Tom.

  "Disguise myself like a tramp, and go there looking for work," was thefirm answer. "There are plenty of odd jobs on a big place such as theFoger family have. I'll find out what I want to know, you see."

  It seemed useless to further combat this resolution, and, in a few daysMr. Damon presented a very different appearance. He had on a mostragged suit, there was a scrubby beard on his face, and he walked witha curious shuffle, caused by a pair of big, heavy shoes which he haddonned, first having taken the precaution to make holes in them and getthem muddy.

  "Now I'm all ready," he said to Tom one day, when his disguise wascomplete. "I'm going over and try my luck."

  He left the house by a side door, so that no one would see him, andstarted down the walk. As he did so a voice shouted:

  "Hi, there! Git right out oh heah! Mistah Swift doan't allow no trampsheah, an' we ain't got no wuk fo' yo', an' there ain't no coldvictuals. I does all de wuk, me an' mah mule Boomerang, an' we takesall de cold victuals, too! Git right along, now!"

  "It's Eradicate. He doesn't know you," said Tom, with a chuckle.

  "So much the better," whispered Mr. Damon. But the disguise provedalmost too much of a success, for seeing the supposed tramp lingeringnear the house, Eradicate caught up a stout stick and rushed forward.He was about to strike the ragged man, when Tom called out:

  "That's Mr. Damon, Rad!"

  "Wh--what!" gasped the colored man; and when the situation had beenexplained to him, and the necessity for silence impressed upon him, heturned away, too surprised to utter a word. He sought consolation inthe stable with his mule.

  Just what methods Mr. Damon used he never disclosed, but one thing iscertain: That night there came a cautious knock on the door of theSwift home, and Tom, answering it, beheld his odd friend.

  "Well," he asked eagerly, "what luck?"

  "Put on a suit of old clothes, and come with me," said Mr. Damon."We'll look like two tramps, and then, if we're discovered, they won'tknow it was you."

  "Have you found out anything?" asked Tom eagerly.

  "Not yet; but I've got a key to one of the side doors of the shed, andwe can get in as soon as it's late enough so that everybody there willbe in bed."

  "A key? How did you get it?" inquired the youth.

  "Never mind," was the answer, with a chuckle. "That was because of mydisguise; and I haven't blessed anything to-day. I'm going to, soon,though. I can feel it coming on. But hurry, Tom, or we may be too late."

  "And you haven't had a look inside the shed?" asked the young inventor."You don't know what's there?"

  "No; but we soon will."

  Eagerly Tom put on some of the oldest and most ragged garments he couldfind, and then he and the odd gentleman set off toward the Foger home.They waited some time after getting in sight of it, because they saw alight in one of the windows. Then, when the house was dark, they stolecautiously forward toward the big, gloomy shed.

  "On this side," directed Mr. Damon in a whisper. "The key I have opensthis door."

  "But we can't see when we get inside," objected Tom. "I should havebrought a dark lantern."

  "I have one of those pocket electric flashlights," said Mr. Damon."Bless my candlestick! but I thought of that." And he chuckledgleefully.

  Cautiously they advanced in the darkness. Mr. Damon fumbled at the lockof the door. The key grated as he turned it. The portal swung back, andTom and his friend found themselves inside the shed which, of late, hadbeen such an object of worry and conjecture to the young inventor. Whatwould he find there?

  "Flash the light," he called to Mr. Damon in a hoarse whisper.

  The eccentric man drew it from his packet. He pressed the spring switch,and in an instant a brilliant shaft of radiance shot out, cutting theintense blackness like a knife. Mr. Damon flashed it on all sides.

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p; But to the amazement of Tom and his companion, it did not illuminatethe broad white wings and stretches of canvas of an aeroplane. It onlyshone on the bare walls of the shed, and on some piles of rubbish inthe corners. Up and down, to right and left, shot the pencil of light.

  "There's--there's nothing here!" gasped Tom.

  "I--I guess you're right!" agreed Mr. Damon "The shed is empty!"

  "Then where is Andy Foger building his aeroplane?" asked Tom in awhisper; but Mr. Damon could not answer him.