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Authors: Tom Swift,His Motor Cycle

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"No, I'd rather work it alone, dad. I'll be careful. Besides, Ned
could not get away from the bank. I may have to be gone a week, and
he has no motor-cycle. I can manage all right."

Tom was off bright and early. He had carefully laid his plans, and
had decided that he would not go direct to Pineford, which was the
nearest village to the old Harkness mansion.

"If those fellows are in hiding they will probably keep watch on who
comes to the village," thought Tom. "The arrival of some one on a
motor-cycle will be sure to be reported to them, and they may skip
out. I've got to come up from another direction, so I think I'll
circle around, and reach the mansion from the stretch of woods on
the north."

He had inquired from Eradicate as to the lay of the land, and had a
good general idea of it. He knew there was a patch of woodland on
one side of the mansion, while the other sides were open.

"I may not be able to ride through the woods," mused Tom, "but I'll
take my machine as close as I can, and walk the rest of the way.
Once I discover whether or not the gang is in the place, I'll know
what to do."

To follow out the plan he had laid down for himself meant that Tom
must take a roundabout way. It would necessitate being a whole day
on the road, before he would be near the head of Lake Carlopa, where
the Harkness house was located. The lake was a large one, and Tom
had never been to the upper end.

When he was within a few miles of Pineford, Tom took a road that
branched off and went around it. Stopping at night in a lonely
farmhouse, he pushed on the next morning, hoping to get to the woods
that night. But a puncture to one of the tires delayed him, and
after that was repaired he discovered something wrong with his
batteries. He had to go five miles out of his way to get new cells,
and it was dusk when he came to the stretch of woods which he knew
lay between him and the old mansion.

"I don't fancy starting in there at night," said Tom to himself.
"Guess I'd better stay somewhere around here until morning, and then
venture in. But the question is where to stay?"

The country was deserted, and for a mile or more he had seen no
houses. He kept on for some distance farther, the dusk falling
rapidly, and when he was about to turn back to retrace his way to
the last farmhouse he had passed, he saw a slab shanty at the side
of the road.

"That's better than nothing, provided they'll take me in for the
night," murmured Tom. "I'm going to ask, anyhow."

He found the shanty to be inhabited by an old man who made a living
burning charcoal. The place was not very attractive, but Tom did not
mind that, and finding the charcoal-burner a kindly old fellow, soon
made a bargain with him to remain all night.

Tom slept soundly, in spite of his strange surroundings, and after a
simple breakfast in the morning inquired of the old man the best way
of penetrating the forest.

"You'd best strike right along the old wood road," said the
charcoal-burner. "That leads right to the lake, and I think will
take you where you want to go. The old mansion is not far from the
lake shore."

"Near the lake, eh?" mused Tom as he started off, after thanking the
old fellow. "Now I wonder if I'd better try to get to it from the
water or the land side?"

He found it impossible to ride fast on the old wood road, and when he
judged he was so close to the lake that the noise of his motor-cycle
might be heard, he shut off the power, and walked along, pushing
it. It was hard traveling, and he felt weary, but he kept on, and
about noon was rewarded by a sight of something glittering through the
trees.

"That's the lake!" Tom exclaimed, half aloud. "I'm almost there."

A little later, having hidden his motor-cycle in a clump of bushes,
he made his way through the underbrush and stood on the shore of
Lake Carlopa. Cautiously Tom looked about him. It was getting well
on in the afternoon, and the sun was striking across the broad sheet
of water. Tom glanced up along the shore. Something amid a clump of
trees caught his eyes. It was the chimney of a house. The young
inventor walked a little distance along the lake shore. Suddenly he
saw, looming up in the forest, a large building. It needed but a
glance to show that it was falling into ruins, and had no signs of
life about it. Nor, for that matter, was there any life in the
forest around him, or on the lake that stretched out before him.

"I wonder if that can be the place?" whispered Tom, for, somehow,
the silence of the place was getting on his nerves. "It must be it,"
he went on. "It's just as Rad described it."

He stood looking at it, the sun striking full on the mysterious
mansion, hidden there amid the trees. Suddenly, as Tom looked, he
heard the "put-put" of a motor-boat. He turned to one side, and saw,
putting out from a little dock that he had not noticed before, a
small craft. It contained one man, and no sooner had the young
inventor caught a glimpse of him than he cried out:

"That's the man who jumped over our fence and escaped!"

Then, before the occupant of the boat could catch sight of him, Tom
turned and fled back into the bushes, out of view.

Chapter XXIII - Tom Is Pursued
*

Tom was so excited that he hardly knew what to do. His first thought
was to keep out of sight of the man in the boat, for the young
inventor did not want the criminals to suspect that he was on their
trail. To that end he ran back until he knew he could not be seen
from the lake. There he paused and peered through the bushes. He
caught a glimpse of the man in the motor-boat. The craft was making
fast time across the water.

"He didn't see me," murmured Tom. "Lucky I saw him first. Now what
had I better do?"

It was a hard question to answer. If he only had some one with whom
to consult he would have felt better, but he knew he had to rely on
himself. Tom was a resourceful lad, and he had often before been
obliged to depend on his wits. But this time very much was at stake,
and a false move might ruin everything.

"This is certainly the house," went on Tom, "and that man in the
boat is one of the fellows who helped rob me. Now the next thing to
do is to find out if the others of the gang are in the old mansion,
and, if they are, to see if dad's model and papers are there. Then
the next thing to do will be to get our things away, and I fancy
I'll have no easy job."

Well might Tom think this, for the men with whom he had to deal were
desperate characters, who had already dared much to accomplish their
ends, and who would do more before they would suffer defeat. Still,
they under-estimated the pluck of the lad who was pitted against
them.

"I might as well proceed on a certain plan, and have some system
about this affair," reasoned the lad. "Dad is a great believer in
system, so I'll lay out a plan and see how nearly I can follow it.
Let's see—what is the first thing to do?"

Tom considered a moment, going over the whole situation in his mind.
Then he went on, talking to himself alone there in the woods:

"It seems to me the first thing to do is to find out if the men are
in the house. To do that I've got to get closer and look in through
a window. Now, how to get closer?"

He considered that problem from all sides.

"It will hardly do to approach from the lake shore," he reasoned.
"for if they have a motor-boat and a dock, there must be a path from
the house to the water. If there is a path people are likely to walk
up or down it at any minute. The man in the boat might come back
unexpectedly and catch me. No, I can't risk approaching from the
lake shore. I've got to work my way up to the house by going through
the woods. That much is settled. Now to approach the house, and when
I get within seeing distance I'll settle the next point. One thing
at a time is a good rule, as dad used to say. Poor dad! I do hope I
can get his model and papers back for him."

Tom, who had been sitting on a log under a bush, staring at the
lake, arose. He was feeling rather weak and faint, and was at a loss
to account for it, until he remembered that he had had no dinner.

"And I'm not likely to get any," he remarked. "I'm not going to eat
until I see who's in that house. Maybe I won't then, and where
supper is coming from I don't know. But this is too important to be
considered in the same breath with a meal. Here goes."

Cautiously Tom made his way forward, taking care not to make too
much disturbance in the bushes. He had been on hunting trips, and
knew the value of silence in the woods. He had no paths to follow,
but he had noted the position of the sun, and though that luminary
was now sinking lower and lower in the west, he could see the gleam
of it through the trees, and knew in which direction from it lay the
deserted mansion.

Tom moved slowly, and stopped every now and then to listen. All the
sounds he heard were those made by the creatures of the woods—
birds, squirrels and rabbits. He went forward for half an hour,
though in that time he did not cover much ground, and he was just
beginning to think that the house must be near at hand when through
a fringe of bushes he saw the old mansion. It stood in the midst of
what had once been a fine park, but which was now overgrown with
weeds and tangled briars. The paths that led to the house were
almost out of sight, and the once beautiful home was partly in
ruins.

"I guess I can sneak up there and take a look in one of the
windows," thought the young inventor. He was about to advance, when
he suddenly stopped. He heard some one or some thing coming around
the corner of the mansion. A moment later a man came into view, and
Tom easily recognized him as one of those who had been in the
automobile. The heart of the young inventor beat so hard that he was
afraid the man would hear it, and Tom crouched down in the bushes to
keep out of sight. The man evidently did not suspect the presence of
a stranger, for, though he cast sharp glances into the tangled
undergrowth that fringed the house like a hedge, he did not seek to
investigate further. He walked slowly on, making a circuit of the
grounds. Tom remained hidden for several minutes, and was about to
proceed again, when the man reappeared. Then Tom saw the reason for
it.

"He's on guard!" the lad said to himself. "He's doing sentry duty. I
can't approach the house when he's there."

For an instant Tom felt a bitter disappointment. He had hoped to be
able to carry out his plan as he had mapped it. Now he would have to
make a change.

"I'll have to wait until night," he thought. "Then I can sneak up
and look in. The guard won't see me after dark. But it's going to be
no fun to stay here, without anything to eat. Still, I've got to do
it."

He remained where he was in the bushes. Several times, before the
sun set, the man doing sentry duty made the circuit of the house,
and Tom noted that occasionally he was gone for a long period. He
reasoned that the man had gone into the mansion to confer with his
confederates.

"If I only knew what was going on in there," thought Tom. "Maybe,
after all, the men haven't got the model and papers here. Yet, if
they haven't, why are they staying in the old house? I must get a
look in and see what's going on. Lucky there are no shades to the
windows. I wish it would get dark."

It seemed that the sun would never go down and give place to dusk,
but finally Tom, crouching in his hiding place, saw the shadows grow
longer and longer, and finally the twilight of the woods gave place
to a density that was hard to penetrate. Tom waited some time to see
if the guard kept up the circuit, but with the approach of night the
man seemed to have gone into the house. Tom saw a light gleam out
from the lonely mansion. It came from a window on the ground floor.

"There's my chance!" exclaimed the lad, and, crawling from his
hiding place, he advanced cautiously toward it.

Tom went forward only a few feet at a time, pausing almost every
other step to listen. He heard no sounds, and was reassured. Nearer
and nearer he came to the old house. The gleam of the light fell
upon his face, and fearful that some one might be looking from the
window, he shifted his course, so as to come up from one side.
Slowly, very slowly he advanced, until he was right under the
window. Then he found that it was too high up to admit of his
looking in. He felt about until he had a stone to stand on.

Softly he drew himself up inch by inch. He could hear the murmur of
voices in the room. Now the top of his head was on a level with the
sill. A few more inches and his eyes could take in the room and the
occupants. He was scarcely breathing. Up, up he raised himself until
he could look into the apartment, and the sight which met his eyes
nearly caused him to lose his hold and topple backward. For grouped
around a table in a big room were the three men whom he had seen in
the automobile. But what attracted his attention more than the sight
of the men was an object on the table. It was the stolen model! The
men were inspecting it, and operating it, as he could see. One of
the trio had a bundle of papers in his hand, and Tom was sure they
were the ones stolen from him. But there could be no doubt about the
model of the turbine motor. There it was in plain sight. He had
tracked the thieves to their hiding place.

Then, as he watched, Tom saw one of the men produce from under the
table a box, into which the model was placed. The papers were next
put in, and a cover was nailed on. Then the men appeared to consult
among themselves.

By their gestures Tom concluded that they were debating where to
hide the box. One man pointed toward the lake, and another toward
the forest. Tom was edging himself up farther, in order to see
better, and, if possible, catch their words, when his foot slipped,
and he made a slight noise. Instantly the men turned toward the
window, but Tom had stooped down out of sight, just in time.

BOOK: Victor Appleton (house Name)
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