Etext of Tom Swift in the Caves of Ice
by Victor Appleton
ERADICATE IN AN AIRSHIP
"Yes, Rad, I think I will take a little flight. Perhaps I'll
go over to Waterford, and call on Mr. Damon. I haven't seen very
much of him, since we got back from our hunt after the
diamond-makers."
"Yes, Rad. Now, if you'll help me, I'll get out the Butterfly,
and see what trim she's in for a speedy flight."
A few minutes later the two had rolled into view, on its three
bicycle wheels, a trim little monoplane--one of the speediest
craft of the air that had ever skimmed along beneath the clouds.
It was built to carry two, and had a very powerful motor.
"It sho' do look all right, Massa Tom."
"No, Massa Tom, an' I ain't gwine to nuther!"
"Why not? 'Case as how it ain't healthy; that's why!"
"Yes, dat's true, but dere might come a time when yo' WOULDN'T
come back, an' den where'd Eradicate Sampson be? I axes yo'
dat--whar'd I be, Massa Tom?"
"Dat's right, Massa Tom. Dey suah will be monstrous envious ob
Eradicate Sampson, dat's what dey will."
But now, somehow, there was a peculiar temptation to take his
young employer at his word. Eradicate had seen, many times, the
youthful inventor and his friends make trips in the monoplane, as
well as in the big biplane and dirigible balloon combined--the
RED CLOUD. Tom and the others had always come back safely, though
often they met with accidents which only the skill and daring of
the daring aeronaut had brought to a safe conclusion.
"Now does yo' t'ink it am puffickly safe, Massa Tom?" and the
colored man looked nervously at the machine.
"I don't nohow believe I will, Massa Tom, but as long as you
have axed me, an' as yo' say some of dem proud, stuck-up darkies
in Shopton will be tooken down a peg or two when de sees me, vhy,
I will go wif yo', Massa Tom."
"I knows dere was, Massa Tom. Nope, I won't jump. I-I-Oh,
golly, Massa Tom! I guess I don't want to go-let me out!"
"Sit still!" yelled Tom. At that instant he started the
propeller. The motor roared like a salvo of guns, and streaks of
fire could be seen shooting from one cylinder to the other, until
there was a perfect blast of explosions.
"Steady now" spoke Tom, yelling to be heard above the racket.
"Here we go."
With a whizz the monoplane shot across the ground. Then, with
a quick motion, Tom tilted the lifting planes, and, as gracefully
as a bird, the little machine mounted upward on a slant until,
coming to a level about two hundred feet above the earth, Tom
sent it straight ahead over the roof of his house.
"It--it--er--bur-r-r-r! It's--it's mighty ticklish, Massa
Tom-dat's de word--it suah am mighty ticklish!"
"Now for some corkscrew twists!" cried the young inventor.
"Here we go, Rad!"
Sampson, as he sat crouched in the seat, gripping the uprights
until his hands ached, was in no condition to appreciate it.
Gradually, however, as he saw that the craft remained up in the
air, and showed no signs of falling, the fears of the colored man
left him. He sat up straighter.
This time the answer came with more decision.
"They'd think YOU were stuck up; eh, Rad? Stuck up in the
air!"
By this time Tom had guided the machine away from the village,
and they were flying over the fields, some distance from his
house. The colored man was beginning to enjoy his experience very
much.
"Just my luck!" cried Tom.
"Motor's stalled," replied the young inventor.
Naturally, with the stopping of the propeller, there was no
further straight, forward motion to the monoplane, and, following
the law of nature, it began to drop toward the earth on a
slant.
"It's all right, I'll just vol-plane back to earth," spoke
Tom, calmly. "I've often done it before, higher up than this. Sit
still, Rad, I'm volplaning back to the ground."
"Sit still!" cried Tom, for the colored man was about to
spring from his seat. "There's no danger! I didn't say anything
about playing ball. I said I'd VOL-PLANE back to the earth. We'll
be there shortly. I'll take you down safe. Sit still, Rad!"
"I wonder if we can make it?" he murmured, measuring the
distance with his eye. "I think so. I'll shoot her up a bit and
then let her down on a long slant. Then, with another upward
tilt, I ought to fetch it."
Eradicate gave one mad spring from his seat, almost before the
bicycle wheels had ceased revolving, as Tom jammed on the
earthbrake.
"Whar am I goin'? I'se goin' t' see if mah mule Boomerang am
safe. He's de only kind ob an airship I wants arter dis!" and the
colored man disappeared into the shack whence came a loud
"hee-haw!"
"No, sah, Massa Tom. Yo' don't catch dis coon in any mo'
airships. Mah mule am good enough fo' me!" shouted Eradicate from
the safe harbor of the mule's stable.
"Oh, Tom," she called. "I looked for you a moment ago, and you
weren't here!"
"Here's a letter that came for you," she went on.
"Hello!" he ejaculated half aloud. "It's from Abe Abercrombie,
that miner I met when we were after the diamond-makers! He says
he is on his way east to get ready to start on the quest for the
Alaskan valley of gold, in the caves of ice. I had almost
forgotten that I promised to make the attempt in the big airship.
How did this letter come, Mrs. Baggert?" he asked.
"Then we may see Abe any day now. Guess I'd better be looking
over the RED CLOUD to see if it's in shape for a trip to the
Arctic regions."
"I wonder if he expects us to start for Alaska with winter
coming on?" thought Tom.
"Hello, Ned Newton!" called Tom, heartily.
"No. What is it?"
"Andy Foger building an airship?"
"Humph! It will, eh? Well, Andy can do as he pleases as long
as he doesn't bother me. I won't be around here much longer,
anyhow."
"Because I soon expect to start for the far north on a strange
quest. Come on in the shed, and I'll tell you about it. We're
going to try to locate a valley of gold, and I guess Andy Foger
won't follow me there, even if he does build an airship."
ANDY FOGER'S TRIPLANE
"It's up in Alaska. Just where I don't know, but Abe
Abercrombie, the old miner whom we met when out in Colorado this
summer, says he can find it if we circle around in the airship.
So I'm going to take a chance. I'll tell you all about it."
Tom Swift was an inventor of no little note, in spite of his
youth. He lived with his father, Barton Swift, who was also an
inventor, on the outskirts of the village of Shopton, New York
State. Tom's mother was dead, and Mrs. Baggert had kept house for
him and his father since he was a child. Garret Jackson, an
expert machinist, was also a member of the household, and as has
been explained, Eradicate Sampson, who took that name because, as
he said he "eradicate de dirt," was also a sort of retainer. He
lived in a little house on the Swift grounds, and did odd jobs
about the place.
After many adventures on his motor-cycle, Tom Swift went
through some surprising happenings with a motor-boat be bought.
After that he built an airship, the RED CLOUD, and later he and
his father constructed a submarine, in which they went under the
ocean in search of sunken treasure, enduring many perils and much
danger.
With parts from the wrecked electric airship the youth rigged
up a plant, and sent wireless messages from the island. The
castaways nearly lost their lives in the earthquake shocks, but a
steamer, summoned by Tom's wireless call, arrived in time to save
them, just as the island disappeared beneath the sea.
Among the castaways of Earthquake Island was a Mr. Barcoe
Jenks and a Professor Ralph Parker. Mr. Jenks was a strange man,
and claimed to have some valuable diamonds, which he said were
made by a gang of men hidden in a cave in the Rocky Mountains.
Tom did not believe that the diamonds were real, but Mr. Jenks
soon proved that they were.
But he, together with Tom, Mr. Damon and the scientist Mr.
Parker, who correctly predicted the destruction of Earthquake
Island, set out in the RED CLOUD to find the diamond makers. They
did find them, after many hardships, and were captured by the
gang. How Tom and his friends escaped from the cave, after they
had seen diamonds made by a powerful lightning flash, and how
they nearly lost their lives from the destruction of Phantom
Mountain, is fully set down in the book.
Just as they were ready to come home in the airship, our
friends were met by an old miner, Abe Abercrombie, who spoke of a
valley of gold in Alaska, which was the story Tom related to Ned
Newton, as the two chums sat in the den of the airship shed.
"No, not all of them. At the time this miner met us I was
anxious to get back East, for we had been away so long I knew dad
would be worried. But I listened to part of Abe's story, and half
promised to go in partnership in this quest for gold. He was to
furnish information about the hidden valley, and I was to supply
the airship. I expect Abe to come along at any time, now, and
then I'll hear more particulars."
"Well, I hadn't thought of that. I could ship it to the
nearest place by rail, I suppose, and go on from there. That's a
detail to be considered later. I'll talk it over with Abe."
"I don't know that even. I suppose Mr. Damon would feel
slighted if I left him out. And perhaps Mr. Parker, that gloomy
scientist, who is always predicting terrible accidents, will be
glad to go along. Then Abe may have some friend he wants to
take."
"Why don't you come along, Ned?"
"Of course."
"Oh, dad and Mr. Damon could fix that. They're directors, you
know. Come along, I'd be delighted to have you. Will you?"
"Well, there's no telling. We generally do succeed in finding
what we go after, even if we didn't get the diamond secret. I'm
anxious to have Abe come, now, though until I got his letter I
had almost forgotten about my promise to him. But, say, what's
this you told me about Andy Foger making an airship?"
"Yes, the big bully! and I'd like to scare him worse. But say,
do you know I'd like to get a look at his airship. I wonder what
sort of a craft it is?"
"How?"
"I can't see through the side of the shed, though."
"How?"
Tom hesitated a moment.
"All right. We'll see if we can get a glimpse of Andy's queer
shebang through the window."
"I'll get a ladder so we can climb up to the top of the fence,
and look over," spoke Ned, as he and Tom went out into the yard
back of his house. The fence was high up on an embankment.
"Why, it's a triplane--a big triplane!" he exclaimed.
"It's one that has three sets of planes, one above the other.
A biplane has two sets of planes, and a monoplane only one.
Triplanes are larger, and, as far as I've been able to learn, not
as satisfactory as either the biplanes or monoplanes. But that's
not saying Andy's won't be a success. They certainly are busy in
there, though! Andy is flying around like a hen scratching for
her little chickens!"
"Yes, Pete and Sam are hammering away. There are a couple of
men, too."
"Have you heard what he's going to do with it, Ned? Make
flights for pleasure, or exhibit it?"
As Ned spoke this warning, the window of the airship shed,
through which they were looking, was suddenly raised. The ugly
face of Andy Foger peered out. He caught sight of Tom and
Ned.
Andy was dancing about in a rage. His two cronies crowded
behind him to the window just as the ladder on which Tom and Ned
were standing slipped along the fence.
The young inventor came to the ground with a jar that shook
him up considerably, while Ned, who had grasped the top board of
the fence, remained hanging there by his hands, his feet dangling
in the air.
Tom Swift heard, and labored desperately to raise the ladder
to enable Ned to get down, for his chum seemed to be afraid to
drop.
Raising a ladder alone is rather an awkward job. Tom found
this so when he tried to aid his friend Ned. But, being a
muscular lad, the young inventor did finally succeed in getting
the ladder up against the fence where the bank clerk could reach
it.
"Wow!" cried Ned. for the blow had been close to his fingers.
"Hurry up with that ladder, Tom."
"Too far. I can't reach the ladder now!"
"Whack!" Once more the stick descended on the fence, this time
still closer to Ned's clinging hands.
"I will not. I want to attend to him myself. You go tell my
father, and he'll have Tom Swift arrested for trying to sneak in
and get some of my airship ideas!"
"Whew!" exclaimed the young inventor. "I had no idea they
would kick up such a row!"
"No. Did they hit your hands?"
"Of course we can, only I'd just as soon they hadn't seen us.
However--hello! there's Andy looking over here, now."
"What are you trying to get into my place for, Tom Swift?" he
demanded.
"Well, you were looking in."
"Trying to get some ideas for your own, I guess," sneered
Andy.
"I could have you arrested for this," went on Andy, who felt
bolder now that he was reinforced by Sam and Pete on either side
of him as he looked over the fence into Ned's yard.
"For trespassing on my father's premises," went on Andy.
"Well, you were looking over in my yard."
"Yah! Think you're smart, don't you! Well, you can't steal any
of my ideas for an airship. They're all patented, and I'll soon
be making longer and higher flights than you ever dreamed of!
I'll show you what a real airship is, Tom Swift! Monoplanes and
biplanes are out of date. The only thing that's any good is a
triplane. If mine works well--and I'm sure it will--I may build a
quadruplane!"
"Well, you won't have any luck if you come around here any
more," went on Pete Bailey. "We'll be on the watch for you
fellows, now, and we'll cover this window, so you can't see
in."
"Come on," spoke Tom in a low tone to Ned, "I've seen
enough."
"Can't you get back at them in some way?" asked Ned, for he
did not like to see himself or his friend apparently vanquished
by the bully.
"What do you mean?"
"Won't it fly?"
"Then you got a good view of it through the window?"
"Sure, I'll go along."
"Why, bless my shoe laces!" cried Mr. Damon, as they alighted
in the yard of his house, about an hour later. "I didn't expect
you, Tom. But I'm glad to see you!"
"Ah, yes. How d'ye do, Ned? Bless my appetite! but it's quite
chilly. We'll soon have winter. Won't you come in and have some
hot chocolate?"
"Why, bless my pocketbook!" cried Mr. Damon. "I had no idea
we'd ever hear from Abe Abercrombie again. And so he is really
coming on, to tell us about the valley of gold?"
"Go? Why, bless my very topknot! Of course I would. I'll go
with you--only--only," and he leaned forward and whispered
cautiously, "don't speak so loudly. My wife might hear you!"
"Well, she'd rather I wouldn't. But she's going on a visit to
her mother, soon, and then I think will come my opportunity to
take another trip with you. A valley of gold in Alaska, eh? Up
where the icebergs and caves of ice are. Say, Tom, I know some
one else who would be glad to go."
"Mr. Parker! You know he's taken up his residence in
Waterford, now, and only the other day he spoke to me about
wishing he could go to the far north. He has some new
theory--"
"That's it, exactly, my boy. Bless my coffeepot! But Mr.
Parker has an idea that the whole northern part of this continent
will soon be buried thousands of feet deep under an icy
avalanche, and he wants to be there to see it. I know he'd like
to go with us, Tom."
"All right, Mr. Damon. If we go, and I think we shall, we'll
expect you and Mr. Parker. I'll let you know the result of Mr.
Abercrombie's visit, and I needn't request you to keep quiet
about it. If there is a valley of gold in Alaska, we don't want
everyone to know about it."
After some further talk, Tom and Ned took their departure,
making good time back to Shopton in the speedy monoplane.
"And if we're going up amid the ice and snow," reasoned Tom,
"I've got to make some different arrangements about the craft,
and provide for keeping warmer than we found necessary when we
went west."
It was one day, nearly a week after Tom's attempt to make
Eradicate like aeroplaning, that there might have been seen,
coming along the Shopton road, which led toward Tom's house, the
figure of a grizzled old man. His clothes were rather rough, and
he carried a valise that had, evidently, seen much service. There
was that about him which proclaimed him for a westerner--a
cattleman or a miner.
"Wa'al, I might better have taken one of them wagons at th'
depot," he said, "than t' try t' walk. It's quite a stretch out
t' Tom Swift's house. I hope I find him home."
"I guess that must be the place," he remarked. "That shed is
big enough to hold the airship. Now to present myself."
"Is this the airship place?" asked the miner.
"Is he in?"
The miner did so. Through the open door of the building he had
a glimpse of big stretches of wings, propellers, rudders, and
some machinery.
As he spoke a lad came from the shed to meet him--a lad on
whose face there was a look of suspicion.
"I'm lookin' for Tom Swift," was the simple reply. "But I take
it you're one of his partners in this airship business. I guess
he must have told you about me. I'm Abe Abercrombie, the miner,
and I've come to show him the way to that valley of gold in
Alaska."
"Tom Swift isn't here just now," he said, wondering how he
could turn to advantage the unexpected visit, and the impending
information that the guileless old man was about to give under
the mistaken idea that Andy was Tom's friend.
"But it'll need to be big if we're to go to Alaska in it,"
went on the miner. "It's quite a journey t' th' valley where th'
gold is. No way t' get t' it except by an airship. An' here I be
an' ready to start, I've brought th' map of th' place, jest as I
promised. Here it is, better take good care of it. Now, let's
talk business," and the miner, having guilelessly handed Andy
Foger a folded parchment, sat down on a box at the door of the
airship shed, and placed his heavy valise on the ground beside
him.
"It's the map of th' valley of gold--directions how t' git
there, an' all that. I guess it's plain enough. Now, when can we
start?"
"The map of the valley of gold, "murmured Andy, as he put it
in his pocket.
"He--he--" stammered Andy. He did not know what to say.
"Mr. Abercrombie--Abe!" cried Tom, almost, before he
thought.
"My partner!" spoke Tom in amazement
"My partner! Andy Foger isn't my partner!" cried Tom,
wondering what would happen next. "I have no partner! If he said
he was he deceived you!"
"The map?"
There was a mocking smile on Andy's face.
"I will--when I get ready! He gave it to me!" cried the bully,
and then, before either Tom or Abe could stop him, Andy darted
into the big shed, and slammed shut the door.
For a few seconds Tom was so surprised at the sudden action of
the bully that he could neither move nor speak. Then, crying out
a command to halt, the young inventor took after his enemy.
"What's it all about?" asked the old miner, who, being a slow
thinker had not understood all that had happened. "What's up, Tom
Swift?"
"Come out of there, Andy Foger!" cried Tom, pounding on the
door. "Come out, or I'll get an officer, and have you
arrested!"
"Come out, I say!" repeated Tom.
Tom listened. There was no movement in the shop. Then the
young inventor sprinted around the side. He was just in time to
see the bully running away over the lots and fields in the rear
of his father's premises. Andy had climbed out of the back window
of the shed, into which Tom and Ned had peered that day, had
climbed the high fence, dropped down on the other side, and was
now running away with all the speed he could muster.
"Well, this is a bad turn of affairs," remarked the lad, as he
faced the puzzled miner.
"Him having that map. It shows the location of the valley of
gold, doesn't it, and tells how to get there?"
"How did Andy happen to get it?"
"Yes, that's the worst of it," agreed Tom, "But I'll get it
back, if I have to cause his arrest, and search his whole
house."
"Oh, he'll come back. Was there only one copy of the map of
the valley, Abe?" asked Tom, anxiously.
"Could you make another?"
"I see. That's too bad! Then you can't make a duplicate
map?"
"I'm going to try," announced Tom determinedly, as he swung on
toward the Foger house. "I'll cause his arrest if he doesn't give
it up."
"Well, what can I do for you, Tom Swift?" asked the banker,
for he felt a certain coldness toward our hero, since the latter
had defeated him in an effort to wreck a financial institution in
which Tom and his father were interested.
"My son stolen a map!" exclaimed Mr. Foger. "How dare you make
such an accusation, Tom Swift?"
"You'd never dare do that!"
"Preposterous! Stuff and nonsense!" blustered Mr. Foger. "My
son never stole anything!"
Mr. Foger hemmed and hawed, and affected not to believe that
anything of the kind could have happened. But Tom was firm, and
Abe Abercrombie backed up his statements, until even the banker
began to waver.
"In which case," spoke Tom grimly, "he will find that he has
carried the joke too far," and with that he and the miner left
the Foger home.
"No, it wasn't, Abe," declared Tom. "Any one would have been
deceived by such tactics as Andy used--that is any stranger. And
you didn't expect to find two airship sheds so close
together."
"Andy only recently began work on his triplane. I don't know
what his object is, and I don't care. Just now I'm more concerned
about getting back this map."
"Oh, we will. I'm going to start off on my own hook, to find
Andy. But first I'll take you to my house."
"I'm going out to find Andy," he declared, "and when I do--"
He didn't finish his sentence, but they all knew what he
meant.
"Well, if I don't find him, I shall certainly swear out the
warrant," decided Tom. "I'll give him until night, and then I'll
call on the police."
"Hold on there, Andy Foger!" cried the young inventor. "I want
to see you!"
"You know very well. Where's that map you stole?"
"Take care!" and Tom, with a quick step was beside the bully,
and had grasped him firmly by the arm.
"Where's that map?" and Tom gave Andy's arm a wrench.
"A joke, eh? And you took it back?"
"I will when I find out if you're telling me the truth or not,
Andy Foger. You come with me!"
"To my house. I want to see if that map's there."
Andy struggled to get loose, but Tom had too tight a grip.
There was something, too, in the manner of our hero that warned
Andy not to trifle with him. So, concluding that discretion was
the better part of valor, Andy walked sullenly along toward Tom's
home, the young inventor never relaxing the grip on his enemy's
arm.
"Is the map back?" asked the young inventor, anxiously.
"Is it the right one, Abe?" inquired Tom.
"Then you can go, Andy Foger," announced our hero, "and if I
ever catch you in another trick like this, I'll take the law into
my own hands. Clear out, now!"
"Did he damage the map any?" asked the lad, as he followed his
father and Abe into the house.
"So that's the map, eh?" murmured Tom, eagerly scanning
it.
"What ink spot?" asked Tom, anxiously.
"It looks as if it was recently made," added Mr. Swift, who
was something of a chemist.
"What?" demanded the miner.
GRAVE SUSPICION'S
"Do you really think he has dared to make a copy of it?" asked
Mr. Swift.
"No," replied the miner.
"His fountain pen might have leaked," suggested Mr.
Jackson.
"I'm sorry to have to admit that Mr. Foger is capable of such
an act," spoke Mr. Swift, "but I believe it is true."
"Yes," answered the engineer.
"Nary a one," was the answer. "It looks as if some one had
been sticking pins in th' map."
"But what can you do?" asked Tom's father.
"What's that?" asked Abe.
"Good!" cried the miner. "That's the way to talk! We'll start
off at once. I know my way around that country pretty well, an'
even though winter is coming on, I think we can travel in th'
airship. That's one reason why I wanted t' go in one of these
flyin' machines. Winter is no time to be in Alaska, but if we
have an airship we won't mind it, an' it's the best time t' keep
other people away, for th' ordinary miner or prospector can't do
anythin' in Alaska in winter--that is away up north where we're
goin'."
"Well, we're goin' to a region about seven hundred an' fifty
miles northwest from Sitka," explained the old miner, as he
pointed out the location on the map. "We'll head for what they
call th' Snow Mountains, an' th' valley of gold is in their
midst. It's just over th' Arctic circle, an' pretty cold, let me
tell you!"
"Well, we'll need t' be," went on the miner. "Th' valley is
full of caves of ice, an' it's dangerous for th' ordinary
traveler. In fact an airship was the only way I saw out of th'
difficulty when I was there."
"Well, not exactly TO it," was the reply, "but I was where I
could see it. That was in th' summer, though of course the summer
there isn't like here. I'll tell you how it was."
"It was two year ago," he said, "that me an' Jim Mace started
to prospect in Alaska. We didn't have much luck, an' we kept on
workin' our way farther north until we come to these Snow
Mountains. Then our supplies gave out, an' if it hadn't been for
some friendly Eskimos I don't know what we would have done. Jim
and me we gave 'em some trinkets an' sich, and th' Indians began
talkin' of a wonderful valley of gold, where th' stuff lay around
in chunks on top of the ground."
"Well, of course me an' my partner wanted to go down the worst
way, an' try for some gold, but th' Indians wouldn't let us. They
said it was dangerous, for th' ice caves were constantly fallin'
in, an' smashin' whoever was inside. But to prove what they said
about th' gold, they sent one of their number down, while we
waited on th' side of th' mountain."
For answer the old miner pulled from his pocket a few yellow
pebbles--little stones of dull, gleaming yellow.
"Then a bad storm come up, an' we had t' hit th' trail for
home--the Indians' home, I mean--for Jim an' I was far enough
away from ours."
"And that's the story of the valley of gold," spoke Mr.
Swift.
"Do you think there is much gold there?" asked Tom.
"Then that's what we'll do," decided Tom.
"No, I think I'll send the airship on ahead to some point in
Washington--say Seattle," replied Tom, "put it together there,
and start for the Snow Mountains. In Seattle we can get plenty of
supplies and stores. It will be a good point to start from, and
will save us a long, and perhaps dangerous, flight across the
United States."
"He may," answered Tom. "But I have a little trick I'm going
to work on Andy. I will try to learn whether he really has a copy
of the map, though I'm practically certain of it. Then I'll
decide what's best to do."
"Yes, I'll start right to work, getting the RED CLOUD in
readiness to be shipped," promised Tom.
"Hello, Tom, have you heard the news?" asked Ned Newton, of
the young inventor, a few days later.
"Oh, this about Andy Foger's airship."
"It's all done, so Sam Snedecker was telling me last night,
and today Andy is going to try to fly it."
"Sure thing. Let's go over and watch him."
"He can't make any fuss now. He's got to take his machine out
to fly it, and anybody that wants to can look on. Didn't he watch
you make flights often enough?"
"In the big meadow. Come on over."
"Then you're really going to hunt for the valley of gold?"
"Yes, that part's all right. The bank president told me today
I could take a vacation any time I wanted it. In fact that's what
I came over to see you about. I want to thank your father."
"I sure am, Tom! Won't it be great! I hope I can get a little
gold for myself! My folks didn't take very much to the notion of
me going off in an airship, but I told them how often you'd gone
on trips, and come safely back, so they finally gave their
consent. When are you going to start?"
"No. What trick has he been up to now?"
"Well, if you're ready, suppose we go over and see if Andy's
airship will really fly," suggested Ned, after a while. "I'm
doubtful myself, and I'd just like to see him come to grief,
after the many mean things he's done to you."
"Do you think he might?"
The two chums walked along together, talking of many things.
Tom told of some communication he had had with Mr. Damon, in
which letters the eccentric man had inquired as to when the trip
for Alaska would be undertaken.
"Oh, yes, it wouldn't seem natural to go without some of Mr.
Damon's blessings. But I think he's going to bring a friend with
him."
"Mr. Ralph Parker."
"That's the gentleman. You met him once, I believe Mr. Damon
says Mr. Parker wants to do some scientific studying in the far
north, so I've already counted on him as one of our party. Well,
perhaps he won't do so much predicting this trip."
"Guess Andy hasn't arrived," spoke Tom.
But almost as Ned spoke, there sounded cries of excitement
from the crowd, and, a little later, something big and white,
with many wingshaped stretches of canvas sticking out from all
sides, was seen turning into the big meadow from the broad
highway that led to Andy's house.
"There's something, at any rate," conceded Tom, as he hastened
his steps. "It's a queer-looking aeroplane, though. My! he's got
enough wings to it!"
They followed the crowd, which was thronging about the airship
that Andy Foger had made, Tom had a glimpse of the machine. It
was a form of triplane, with three tiers of main wings, and
several other sets of planes, some stationary and some capable of
being moved. There was no gas-bag feature, but amidships was a
small, enclosed cabin, which evidently held the machinery, and
was designed to afford living quarters. In some respects the
airship was not unlike Tom's, and the young inventor could see
that Andy had copied some of his ideas. But Tom cared little
about this.
"It looks to me to be too heavy, and his propellers seem too
small," answered Tom. "He's got to have a very powerful motor to
make all that bulk fly."
"Now keep back--all of you!" ordered the bully, with a show of
anger. "If any one damages my airship I'll have him arrested!
Keep back, now, or I won't fly!"
"Hello, Andy, give us a ride!"
"When are you coming back?"
"Be careful that you don't fall!"
"Keep quiet--all of you!" he ordered. "Get back. You might get
hurt when I start the motor. I'm going to make a flight soon," he
added proudly. "Sam, you come over here and hold this end. Pete,
you go back to the rear. Simpson, you get inside and help me with
the motor. Henderson, you get ready to shove when I tell
you."
Tom could not help but admit that Andy's machine was a big
affair. There was a great stretch of wings and planes, several
rudders other appliances for which the young inventor could not
exactly fathom a use. He did not think the machine would fly far,
if at all. But Andy was hurrying here and there, getting the
triplane in place on a level stretch of ground, as if he intended
to capture some great prize.
"I will if I get a chance," answered Tom, in a low voice.
"Hello, Andy," spoke Tom, good-naturedly. "So you're going to
make a flight, eh?"
"Of course," admitted Tom, with an easy laugh. "My airship
doesn't fly, you know, Andy, and I want to see what's wrong with
it."
"Are you going to Alaska?" suddenly asked Tom, in a low voice,
of the bully.
"Yes, you do know what I mean," insisted Tom. "And I want to
tell you that the map you have won't be of much use to you. Why,
do you think," he went on, "that Abe would carry the real map
around with him that way? It's easy to make a copy look like an
original, Andy, and also very easy to put false distances and
directions on a map that may fall into the hands of an
enemy."
"A--a false map!" he stammered. "Wrong directions?"
"I--I didn't make any--Oh, I'm not going to talk to you!"
blustered Andy. "Get out of my way! I'm going to fly my
airship."
But other matters held Andy's attention now. He wanted to try
his airship. With the help of his two cronies, and the
machinists, the machine was gone over, oiled up, and finally,
after several false starts, the motor was set going.
"He hasn't got if well enough braced," said Tom to Ned.
He climbed into the cabin of the craft, and took his position
at the steering-wheel. The speed of the motor, its racket and its
stream of sparks increased.
They released their hold. The triplane moved slowly across the
ground, gathered speed, and, then, under the impulse of the
powerful propellers, ran rapidly over the meadow.
"Yes! Now he's going to fly," proudly added Pete Bailey, the
other crony of the bully.
The next instant, thinking he had momentum enough, Andy tilted
his elevation plane. The clumsy triplane rose into the air and
shot forward.
"Hurrah!" yelled the crowd.
"I guess Tom Swift isn't the only one in Shopton who can build
an airship!" sneered Pete Bailey.
Sure enough, Andy's machine had reached the end of her flight.
The motor stopped with something between a cough and a wheeze.
Down fluttered the aeroplane, like some clumsy bird, down into
the ditch, settling on one side, and then coming to rest, tilted
over at a sharp angle. Andy was pitched out, but landed on the
soft mud, for there had been a thaw. He wasn't hurt much,
evidently, for he soon scrambled to his feet as the crowd surged
toward him.
"But he came down mighty soon," added Tom. "I thought he
would. His machine is too big and clumsy. I've seen enough. Come
on, Ned. We'll get ready to go to Alaska. Andy Foger will never
follow us in that machine."
READY FOR THE TRIP
"What's the matter?" panted Pete Bailey.
The two cronies had hurried to the side of the bully.
"Fix it better? The motor was all right," declared the taller
machinist. "Any of them are likely to stop unexpectedly."
"No, it isn't hurt much," said the other man, after critically
looking it over. "We can fix it, and you'll fly yet, Andy."
Andy made another attempt, but this time the machine did not
even rise off the ground, and then, amid the jeers of the crowd,
the discomfited lad took his aeroplane back to the shed in the
rear of his house.
"You'll make a long flight eh?" asked one of the machinists.
"Where will you go?"
As for Tom and Ned, they strolled away, satisfied that in Andy
Foger they would not have a very dangerous rival, as far as
airships were concerned.
"We'll just have to take a chance, that's all," decided the
young inventor in talking matters over with his father, Ned, and
Abe Abercrombie. "If Andy and some of his crowd trail after us,
we'll just have to run away from them and get to the valley
first."
"Yes, we will soon start now. I have the RED CLOUD all packed
up for shipment to Seattle. We will send it on ahead, and then
follow, for it will take some time to get there, even though it's
going by fast freight."
"There's no telling," responded Tom. "He may be on hand any
minute, and, again, he may only show up just as we are starting.
I haven't heard from him in the last day or two,"
"Who's there?" asked Tom.
"What is it, Rad?" asked Tom.
"The blessing man?" repeated Tom. "Oh, you mean Mr.
Damon."
"Mr. Parker, I expect," spoke Tom. "Well, tell them to come in
here, Rad."
The next moment Tom and the others heard a voice saying:
"Indeed I hope not," added the scientist. "I wish to make a
study of the caves of ice. I think perhaps they may be working
south, and, in time, this part of the country may be covered deep
under a frozen blanket."
"Bless my collar button, Tom! But what has become of the
airship?" asked Mr. Damon, as he looked about the shed, and saw
only a number of boxes and crates.
"Well, that's a good idea," declared the eccentric man. "Mr.
Parker and I are ready to go whenever you are, Tom."
Mr. Damon and Mr. Parker took up their residence in Tom's
house, and while the eccentric man busied himself in helping our
hero, Ned and Abe Abercrombie in getting ready for the trip to
Alaska, the gloomy scientist went about making "observations" as
he called them, with a view to predicting what might happen in
the near future.
The airship was finally sent off, being forwarded to Seattle
in sections, where it could easily be put together. The matter of
Andy Foger having a duplicate map of the valley of gold was
discussed, but it was agreed that nothing could be done about it.
So Tom and the others devoted all their energies to getting in
shape for their prospective journey.
One evening, when Tom had been to pay a last visit to Mary
Nestor, as he was coming past the Foger premises he saw a number
of large vans, loaded with big packing cases coming out of the
banker's yard.
"Now, I want you men to be careful of everything!" the bully
called out arrogantly. "If you break anything I'll sue you for
damages!"
"What are you moving--eggs, that you have to be so careful?"
asked the young inventor, in a low voice.
"An airship--Andy Foger sending away his airship?" gasped Tom.
"Where to?"
"Andy sending his airship to Alaska!" murmured Tom in dismay.
"Then he surely is going to make a try for that valley of
gold!"
A THIEF IN THE NIGHT
"And in that airship of his, too," mused Tom. "Well, there's
one consolation, I don't believe he'll go far in that, though it
does sail better than when he made his first attempt. Well, if
he's going to try to beat us, it's a good thing I know it We can
be prepared for him, now."
There was more than surprise on the part of Mr. Damon and the
others when Tom told his news. There was alarm, for there was a
feeling that Mr. Foger and his son might adopt unscrupulous
tricks.
"Whitewash him!" exclaimed Eradicate Sampson, who had
overheard part of the conversation. "Dat's what I'd do t' him an'
his father, too! Dat's what I would! Fust I'd let mah mule
Boomerang kick him a bit, an' den, when he was all mussed up, I'd
whitewash him!" That was the colored man's favorite method of
dealing with enemies, but, of course, he could not always carry
it out.
"Let them go," said Tom, "I don't believe they'll ever find
the valley of gold. I fancy I threw a scare into Andy, talking as
I did about the map."
"And we need the gold," said Tom, in a low voice; "don't we,
Abe?"
Preparations were now practically completed for their trip to
Seattle by rail. Tom made some inquiries in the next few days
regarding the Fogers, but only learned that the father and son
had left town, after superintending the shipment of their
airship.
"I hope so? Tom. You've got the map put away safely, have
you?"
"Yes."
Good-byes were said, Mr. Swift, Mr. Jackson, Mrs. Baggert and
Eradicate waving their adieus from the porch as Tom and the
others started for the depot. Miss Mary Nestor had bidden our
hero farewell the previous night--it being a sort of second
good-bye, for Tom was a frequent caller at her house, and, if the
truth must be told he rather disliked to leave the young
lady.
"Bring us back some nuggets, Tom," pleaded Arthur Norton.
"A live bear or a trained Eskimo for mine," exclaimed
another.
"I'll send you some gold nuggets by wireless," said Ned
Newton.
"He must feel lost without Andy," observed the young inventor
to Ned.
They learned a moment later, for they saw Pete going into the
telegraph office.
Tom did not answer. The window of the office was slightly
open, though the day was cool, and he was listening to the clicks
of the telegraph instrument, as the operator sent Pete's message.
Tom was familiar with the Morse code. What was his surprise to
hear the message being sent to Andy Foger at a certain hotel in
Chicago. And the message read:
"What in the world does that mean?" thought Tom, but he did
not tell Ned what he had picked up as it went over the wire. "Why
should Andy want to be informed when we leave? That's why Pete
was hanging around here! He had been instructed to let Andy know
when we left for Seattle. There's something queer back of all
this."
"Well, we're off!" cried Ned.
The trip to Chicago was without incident, and, on arrival in
the Windy City, Tom was on the lookout for Andy or his father,
but he did not see them. He made private inquiries at the hotel
mentioned in Pete's telegram, but learned that the Fogers had
gone on.
On leaving Chicago, Tom had noticed, among the other
passengers traveling in the same coach as themselves, a man who
seemed to be closely observing each member of the party of
gold-hunters. He was a man with a black mustache, a mustache so
black, in fact, that Tom at once concluded that it had been dyed.
This, in itself, was not much, but there was a certain air about
the man--a "sporty" air--which made Tom suspicious.
"He does look like one," agreed Ned.
"No, indeed, it's something I don't do," answered Ned, with a
laugh. "But it might be a good thing to speak to Abe Abercrombie
about him. If that man's a sharper perhaps Abe knows him, or has
seen him, for Abe has traveled around in the West
considerable."
"He does look like a confidence man," agreed Abe, "but as long
as he doesn't approach us we can't do anything, and don't need to
worry."
On the night of the same day on which Tom had called special
attention to the man with the black mustache, our hero went to
his berth rather late. He had sent some telegrams to his father
and one to Miss Nestor, and, when he turned in he saw the
"gambler," as he had come to call him, going into the smoking
compartment of the coach. Though Tom thought of the man as a
gambler, there was no evidence, as yet, that he was one, and he
had made no effort to approach any of our friends, though he had
observed them closely.
Then, like a flash there came to Tom's mind the thought that
under his pillow, in a little leather case he had made for it,
was the map, showing the location of the valley of gold.
"Here! Who are you!" cried Tom, endeavoring to peer through
the darkness.
Tom leaned suddenly forward and parted the curtains of his
berth. There was a dim light burning in the aisle of the car. By
the gleam of it the young inventor caught sight of a man hurrying
away, and he felt sure the fellow who had put his hand under his
pillow was the man with the black mustache. He confirmed this
suspicion a moment later, for the man half turned, as if to look
back, and the youth saw the mustache.
He sat bolt upright. What should he do? To raise an alarm now,
he felt, would only bring a denial from the man if he accused
him. There might also be a scene, and the man might get very
indignant. Then, too, Tom and his friends did not want their
object made known, as it would be in the event of Tom raising an
outcry and stating what was under his pillow.
"He didn't get it anyhow," murmured our hero. "I guess I won't
say anything until morning, though he did come like a thief in
the night to see if he could steal it."
"It was the map he was after all right," mused Tom. "I'll have
a talk with Mr. Damon in the morning about what's best to do.
That's why the fellow has been keeping such a close watch on us.
He wanted to see who had the map."
"If it was the map he was after," he whispered to himself, "he
must know what it's about Therefore the Fogers must have told
him. I'll wager Andy or his father put this man up to steal the
map. Andy's afraid he hasn't got a copy of the right one. This is
getting more and more mysterious! We must be on our guard all the
while. Well, I'll see what I'll do in the morning."
A VANDAL'S ACT
"Oh, I guess not," answered the young inventor. "They have had
one try at me, and found that I wasn't napping. I don't believe
they'll try again. No, I'll carry the map."
At length Ned suggested that one of them sit up part of the
night, and keep an eye on Tom's berth. This was agreed to, and
they divided the hours of darkness into watches, each one taking
a turn at guarding the precious map. But they might have spared
themselves the trouble, for no further attempt was made to get
it.
"Maybe his father proposed it," suggested Ned. "I heard, in
our bank, that Mr. Foger has lost considerable money lately, and
he may need more."
They did, as Tom learned a few hours later, when they had
taken up their quarters in a Seattle hotel, and he had made
inquiries at the railroad office. In the freight depot were all
the boxes and crates containing the parts of the big airship, and
by comparison with a list he had made, the young inventor found
that not a single part was missing.
"Where are you going to assemble the airship?" asked Mr.
Damon.
"How long before we can start for the gold valley?" asked the
old miner anxiously.
Tom lost no time in getting to work. He had the different
parts of his airship carted to the big shed which he hired. This
building was on one edge of the fair grounds, and there was a
large, level space which was admirably adapted for trying the big
craft, when once more it was put together.
"Ha! Bless my rubber shoes!" cried Mr. Damon in delight, as he
looked at the big craft "This is like old times, Tom!"
"Are you going to give it a preliminary tryout?" asked
Ned.
"It certainly is cold up here," agreed Ned, for they were now
much farther north than when they were in Shopton, and, besides,
winter was coming on. It was not the best time of the year to
journey into Alaska, but they had no choice. To delay, especially
now, might mean that their enemies would get ahead of them.
"Oh, yes," answered Tom. "We'll be warm, and have plenty to
eat. Which reminds me that I must begin to see about our stock of
provisions and other supplies, for we'll soon be on our way."
There was a little hitch, due to the fact that some of the
machine adjustments were wrong, but Tom soon had that remedied
and then, with the big propellers whirling around, the airship
was sent scudding across the field.
"Does it work all right?" asked Ned anxiously, as he stood in
the pilothouse beside his chum.
"Bless my pocketbook! but that's lucky," exclaimed Mr. Damon.
"Then we can soon start, eh?"
Tom put the airship through a number of "stunts" to test her
stability and the rudder control, much to the delight of the
gathering throng. Everything was found to work well, and after
ascending to a considerable height, to the no small alarm of the
old miner, Tom made a quick descent, with the motor shut off. The
RED CLOUD conducted herself perfectly, and there was nothing else
to be desired.
"To-morrow I'll arrange about the supplies and provisions, and
we'll stock her up," said Tom to his companions. "Now you folks
had better go back to the hotel."
I'm going to bunk here in the shed to-night, said the young
inventor.
"I can't take any chances now that the RED CLOUD is in shape
for flying. Some of the Foger crowd might be hanging around, and
break in here to damage her."
"I know," answered Tom Swift, "but I'm not going to take any
chances. I'll stay here with the watchman."
Tom slept heavily that night, much heavier than he was in the
habit of doing. So did Ned, and their deep breathing as they lay
in their staterooms, in the cabin of the airship, told of
physical weariness, for they had worked hard to re-assemble the
RED CLOUD.
"Queer, how drowsy I feel," he murmured several times. "It's
only a little after midnight, too," he added, looking at his
watch, "Guess I'll walk around a bit to rouse myself."
Three minutes more and the watchman was asleep--sound asleep,
while a strange, sweet, sickish odor seemed to fill the
atmosphere about him.
"He's off," the man murmured. "I thought he'd never get to
sleep! Now to get in and dose those two lads! Then I'll have the
place to myself!"
The intruder peered in through the cabin windows where Ned and
Tom were asleep. Once more there was in the atmosphere a sickish
odor. The man again worked the instrument which was like a small
air pump, taking care not to get his own face too near it.
Presently he stopped and listened.
TOM IS HELD UP
The lad murmured something unintelligible, but he did not
awaken. The fumes prevented that. However, his movements showed
that the effect of the drug was wearing off. It was intended only
for temporary use, and it lasted less time than it would
otherwise have done in a warmer, moister climate, for the cold,
crisp air that penetrated the shed from outside dispelled the
fumes.
The vandal gave one glance at the sleeping lads, and stole
from the cabin of the craft. He looked at his work of ruin, and
then tiptoed past the slumbering watchman. A moment later and he
was outside the shed, hurrying away through the night.
"I thought we'd find them up by this time," spoke the
eccentric man, as he again knocked on the door. "Tom said he had
lots to do today."
"Bless my heart! I never thought of that," exclaimed Mr.
Damon. "I believe I will."
"Bless my soul!" the old man shouted. "Look at this, Abe!"
Mr. Damon was close to the airship. He looked in the cabin
window.
Abe hastened to his side. He looked at the damage done, and a
fierce look came over his face.
They needed small attention, however. The opening of the big
door had let in a flood of fresh air, and this dispelled the last
of the fumes. The watchman was the first to revive. The sleep
caused by the chemical, sprayed from the air-pump by the vandal,
had been succeeded by a natural slumber, and this was the case
with Ned and Tom. They were soon aroused, and looked with wonder,
not unmixed with rage, at the work done in the night.
"Who did it?" he gasped.
"I--I must have fallen asleep," admitted the watchman in
confusion.
"And there was th' smell of chloroform, or something like it
in th' shed," added the miner.
"Is it ruined--can't we go to the valley of gold?" asked
Ned.
"Bless my watch chain!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "What an ugly,
mean piece of work. Can you repair it, Tom?"
An examination of the door showed how the lock had been
forced, and the adventurers could easily guess the rest. But who
the midnight vandal was they could not tell, though Tom and the
others were sure it was some one hired by the Fogers.
Once Tom got into action nothing held him back. He hardly
wanted to stop for meals. New canvas was ordered, and that very
afternoon some of the damaged wings had been repaired. In the
meanwhile the stores and provisions that had been ordered were
arriving, and, under the direction of the miner and Mr. Damon
were put in the RED CLOUD. Tom and Ned, with the help of a man
they hired, worked diligently to replace the damaged planes and
rudders. Mr. Parker came out to the airship shed, but he was of
little use as a helper, for he was continually stopping to jot
down some memoranda about an observation he thought of, or else
he would lay aside his tools to go outside, look at the weather,
and make predictions.
No trace was seen of the Fogers, and Tom hardly expected it,
for he thought they were in Sitka by this time. Nor were any
suspicious persons seen hanging around the shed. The adventurers
left their rooms at the hotel, and took up their quarters in the
airship that would soon be their home for many days. They wanted
to be where they could watch the craft, and two guards were
engaged.
"Start fer th' valley of gold?" asked the miner.
"Shall I come?" asked Ned.
Both Tom came nearly never coming back. As he was returning
from sending the messages, and purchasing a few things he needed
for the trip, he passed through a dark street. He was walking
along, thinking of what the future might hold for him and his
companions, after they reached the caves of ice, when, just as he
got to a high board fence, surrounding some vacant lots, he heard
some one whisper hoarsely:
The young inventor was on his guard instantly. He jumped back
to avoid a moving shadow, but was too late. Something struck him
on the back of his head, and he felt his senses leaving him. He
struggled against the feeling, and he realized, even in that
exciting moment, that the thick collar of his heavy overcoat,
which he had turned up because of a cold wind, had, perhaps,
saved him from a broken skull.
The packages dropped from Tom's nerveless fingers. He felt
himself sinking down, in spite of his fierce determination not to
succumb. He felt several hands moving rapidly about his body, and
then he struck blindly out at the footpads.
Tom Swift felt as if he was struggling in some dream or
nightmare. He felt strong hands holding him and saw evil faces
leering at him.
Then came the sound of footsteps running--Tom heard the "ping"
of a policeman's night-stick on the sidewalk.
"Did you get it?" asked another.
They released the young inventor so suddenly that he staggered
about and almost fell.
"What's the matter?" asked the officer.
The officer drew his revolver, and fired two shots in the air,
but the fleeing figures did not stop.
"No--I guess not," answered Tom. He saw the packages
containing his purchases lying where they had fallen. A touch
told him his watch and pocketbook were safe. The precious map was
in a belt about his waist, and that had not been removed. "No,
they didn't get anything," he assured the officer.
Tom did not contradict this. He knew, however, that, had the
men who attacked him wished to take his watch or money, they
could have done it several times before the officer arrived.
The policeman inquired for more particulars from Tom, who
related how the hold-up had taken place. The young inventor,
however, said nothing about the map he carried, letting the
officer think it was an ordinary attempt at robbery, for Tom did
not want any reference in the newspapers to his search for the
valley of gold.
"Those fellows have been keeping watch for me," the lad
reasoned, as he walked quickly toward the airship shed. "They
must have been shadowing me, and they hid there until I came
back. Andy Foger and his father must be getting desperate. I
think I know why, too. That little dig I gave Andy about his map
is bearing fruit. He begins to think it's the wrong map, and he
wants to get hold of the right one. Well, they shan't if I can
help it. We'll be away from here in the morning."
"Bless my walking-stick!" cried Mr. Damon. "You'll need a
bodyguard after this."
"I am glad there will be no more delays, and that we will soon
be moving northward," spoke Mr. Parker, a little later. "I am
anxious to confirm my theory about the advance of the ice crust,
I met a man to-day who had just returned from the north of
Alaska. He said that a severe winter had already set in up there.
So I am anxious to get to the ice caves."
They were all up early the next morning, for there were
several things to look after before they started on the trip that
might bring much of danger to the adventurers. Under Tom's
direction, more gas was generated, and forced into the big bag. A
last adjustment was made of the planes, wing tips and rudders,
and the motor was given a try-out.
The RED CLOUD was wheeled from the big shed, and placed on the
open lot, where she would have room to rush across the ground to
acquire momentum enough to rise in the air. Tom, whenever it was
practical, always mounted this way, rather than by means of the
lifting gas, as, in the event of a wind, he would have better
control of the ship, while it was ascending into the upper
currents of air, than when it was rising like a balloon.
"Let her go!" cried Ned Newton, enthusiastically.
"Here we go!" cried the young inventor, as he pulled the lever
starting the motor, There was a buzz and a hum. The powerful
propellers whirred around like blurs of light. Forward shot the
great airship over the ground, gathering speed at every
revolution of the blades.
"Off for the frozen north!" cried Ned, waving his cap.
"Tom! Tom!" he cried suddenly. "There's the man with the black
mustache--the man who tried to rob you in the sleeping-car!" He
pointed downward to some one in the throng.
PELTED BY HAILSTONES
"Perhaps he came to see if we started, and then he'll report
to Andy Foger or his father by telegraph," suggested Mr.
Damon.
"Maybe Andy will race us," suggested Ned.
They were now over the outskirts of Seattle, flying along
about a thousand feet high, and they could dimly make out curious
crowds gazing up at them. The throng that had been around the
airship shed had disappeared from view behind a little hill, and,
of course, the man with the black mustache was no longer visible,
but Tom felt as if his sinister eyes were still gazing upward,
seeking to discern the occupants of the airship.
"Yes, and the RED CLOUD is doing better than she ever did
before," said Tom. "I think it did her good to take her apart and
put her together again. It sort of freshened her up. This machine
is my special pride. I hope nothing happens to her on this
journey to the caves of ice."
"Oh, we'll take good care that the RED CLOUD isn't nipped
between two bergs," Tom declared.
"No matter what care you exercise, you cannot overcome the
awful power of the grinding ice," declared the gloomy scientist.
"I predict that we will see most wonderful and terrifying
sights."
"Science cannot be cheerful when foretelling events of a dire
nature," was the response. "I would not do my duty if I did not
hold to my theories."
"Whenever you want it, Mr. Damon. Are you going to act as cook
again?"
But if the gloomy scientific man heard this little "dig" he
did not respond to it. He was busy jotting down figures on a
piece of paper, multiplying and dividing them to get at some
result in a complicated problem he was working on, regarding the
power of an iceberg in proportion to its size, to exert a lateral
pressure when sliding down a grade of fifteen per cent.
"It's certainly great," the old miner observed, as he looked
down toward the earth below them, stretched out like some great
relief map. "It sure is wonderful an' some scrumptious! I never
thought I'd be ridin' one of these critters. But they're th' only
thing t' git t' this hidden valley with. We might prospect around
for a year, and be driven back by the Indians and Eskimos a dozen
times. But with this we can go over their heads, and get all the
gold we want."
"Me either," added Ned Newton.
The remainder of the day passed uneventfully, though Tom cast
anxious looks at the weather as night set in, and Ned, noting his
chum's uneasiness, asked:
"Yes, I am," was the reply. "I think we're in for a hard
storm, and I don't know just how the airship will behave up in
these northern regions. It's getting much colder, and the gas in
the bag is condensing more than I thought it would. I will have
to increase our speed to keep us moving along at this
elevation."
Through the night the great airship plowed her way. At times
Tom arose to look at some of the recording instruments. It was
growing colder, and this further reduced the volume of the gas,
but as the speed of the ship was sufficient to send her along,
sustained by the planes and wings alone, if necessary, the young
inventor did not worry much.
The snow, which had been lazily falling, suddenly ceased. Tom
looked out in surprise. A moment later there came a sound as if
some giant fingers were beating a tattoo on the roof of the main
cabin.
"Bless my umbrella! has anything happened?" demanded Mr.
Damon.
On a little platform in front of the steering-house could be
seen falling immense hailstones. They played a tattoo on the
wooden planks.
"A hail storm!" echoed Mr. Parker. "I expected we would have
one. The hailstones will become even larger than this!"
"Is there any danger?" asked his chum.
"One compartment of the bag has been ripped open!" cried Tom.
"The vapor is escaping! The whole bag may soon be torn
apart!"
"What's to be done?" yelled Ned.
He increased the speed of the motor so that the propellers
would aid in taking the ship higher up, while the gas-generating
machine was set in operation to pour the lifting vapor into the
big bag.
The violence of the hail storm, the clatter of the frozen
pellets as they bombarded the airship, the rolling, swaying
motion of the craft as Tom endeavored to send it aloft, all
combined to throw the passengers of the RED CLOUD into a state of
panic.
"I am sure that this storm is but the forerunner of some dire
calamity!" declared Mr. Parker.
"Do you think you can pull us through, Tom?" asked Ned Newton,
who, not having had much experience in airships had yet to learn
Tom's skill in manipulating them.
"It's all right," said Tom, more easily than he felt. "We are
going up slowly. You might see if you can induce the gas machine
to do any better, Mr. Damon. We are wasting some of the vapor
because of the leak in the bag, but we can manufacture it faster
than it escapes, so I guess we'll be all right."
The young inventor could not have chosen a better method of
relieving the fears of his friends than by giving them something
to do to take their minds off their own troubles. They hurried to
the tasks he had assigned to them, and, in a few minutes, there
were no more doubts expressed.
Tom was anxiously watching the barograph, to note their
height. The RED CLOUD was now about two and a half miles high,
and slowly mounting upward. The gas machine was working to its
fullest capacity, and the fact that they did not rise more
quickly told Tom, more plainly than words could have done, that
there were several additional leaks in the gas-bag.
"Why?" asked Ned, who had come back to stand beside his
chum.
"But won't that be just as bad?"
"That is right," broke in Mr. Parker, who was listening to the
young inventor. "By going down this hail storm may change into a
harmless rain storm. But, in spite of that fact, we are in a
dangerous climate, where we must expect all sorts of queer
happenings."
Well might he say so. The wind had further increased in
violence, and while the storm of hailstones seemed to be about
the same, the missiles had nearly doubled in size.
"Guess I will," assented Tom. "There's no use going higher. I
doubt if I could, anyhow, with all this wind pressure, and with
the gasbag leaking. Down she is!"
"What's happened? What in th' name of Bloody Gulch are we up
ag'in'?" demanded the old miner, springing to his feet.
Down, down, down went the RED CLOUD, in the midst of the hail
storm. But if the gold-seekers had hoped to escape the pelting of
the frozen globules they were mistaken. The stones still seemed
to increase in size and number. The gas machine register showed a
sudden lack of pressure, not due to the shutting off of the
apparatus.
"Yes--more punctures," said Tom, grimly.
"Seek shelter if the storm doesn't stop when we get to the
earth level," answered Tom.
"I may be able to send the ship under some overhanging
mountain crag," answered the young inventor, "and that will keep
off the hailstones."
The wind was less violent now that they were in the lower
currents of air, but the hail had not ceased.
"Look ahead there, Ned, and tell me what you see."
"That's what I made it out to be," went on Tom, "but I wanted
to be sure. It's the opening to a cave or hole in the side of the
mountain. I take it."
"Then we're safe," declared Tom.
"I'm going to take the RED CLOUD in there out of the
storm."
"Plenty. It's larger than my shed at home, Jove! but I'm glad
I saw that in time, or there would have been nothing left of the
gas-bag!"
A few minutes later the airship slid inside the great cavern,
as easily as if coming to rest in the yard of Tom's house. The
roof of the cave was high over their heads, and they were safe
from the storm. The cessation from the deafening sound of the
pelting hailstones seemed curious to them at first.
"Yes, indeed, we got to it just in time,'" agreed Tom. "Now
let's see what sort of a place it is. We'll have to explore
it."
"Oh, my dear Parker! please be a little more cheerful," begged
Mr. Damon.
"I hope we can fix them," Tom thought dubiously.
"Look out! It's a bear!" shouted Mr. Damon. "A bear! It's an
Eskimo Indian!" yelled Abe Abercrombie, "an' he's skeered nigh t'
death! Look at him run!"
"An Indian," exclaimed Tom. "An Indian in the cave! If there's
one, there may be more. I guess we'd better look to our guns.
They may attack us!" and he hurried back into the airship,
followed by Ned and the others.
Well armed, the adventurers again ventured out into the cave.
But they need not have been alarmed so soon, for there were no
signs of any more Indians.
"Are we in the neighborhood of the Alaskan Indians and
Eskimos?" inquired Ned.
"Well, if we don't have to defend ourselves from an attack of
Indians, suppose we look over the airship," proposed Tom.
"Well, she's got some bad tears in her," announced Tom as the
light flashed over the big bag. "Luckily I have plenty of the
material, and some cement, so I think we can mend the rents,
though it will take some days. Nothing could have been better for
us than this cave. We'll stay here until we're ready to go
on."
"Why, do you think there is any danger of that?" inquired
Tom.
"Maybe they won't attack us," suggested Ned, hopefully.
"Perhaps we can make them believe we are spirits, and that it
will be unlucky to interfere with us."
"And, in the meantime, have something to eat," put in Mr.
Damon. "Bless my knife and fork! but the hail storm gave me an
appetite."
Abe Abercrombie took a look outside the cave after the meal
had been served. The old miner declared that they had made a good
advance on their northern journey for, though he could not tell
their exact location, he knew by the character of the landscape
that they had passed the boundaries of Alaska.
"Well, we won't average such speed as we did during the hail
storm," said Tom. "The wind of that carried us along at a
terrific pace. But we will get there in plenty of time, I
think,"
"There's no telling when the Fogers may appear," answered the
young inventor in a low voice. "But now we must get to work to
repair damage."
They worked all the remainder of that day, and were at it
again early the next morning, making good progress.
"Then I will have time to go out and make some observations,
will I not?" asked Mr. Parker. "I think this cave is a very old
one, and I may be able to find some evidences in it that the sea
of ice is slowly working its way down from the polar
regions."
The weather was very cold, but, in the cavern it was hardly
noticed. The adventurers were warmly dressed, and when they did
get chilly from working over the airship, they had but to go into
the wellheated and cozy cabin to warm themselves.
"They're coming! They're coming!" cried a voice, and Tom,
looking down, saw Mr. Parker, apparently in a state of great
fear.
"No--the Indians!" yelled the scientist. "A whole tribe of
them is rushing this way!"
Tom slid down off the platform.
"Here I am. We'd better get to the mouth of the cave, and
drive 'em back from there."
The adventurers were now all armed, even to Mr. Parker. The
scientist had recovered from his first fright, when he spied the
Indians coming over the snow, as he was "observing" some natural
phenomenon. Tom, even in his excitement, noticed that the
professor was curiously examining his gun, evidently more with a
view to seeing how it was made, and on which principle it was
operated, rather than to discover how to use it.
"I see," answered Mr. Parker. "Very curious. I had no idea
they worked this way."
"Your electric rifle?"
By this time they were at the entrance of the cave, and,
looking out they saw about a hundred Indians, dressed in furs,
striding across the snowy plain that stretched out from the foot
of the mountain in which was the cavern.
The gold-seekers lined up at the mouth of the cave, with guns
in their hands. At the sight of this small, but formidable force,
the Indians halted. They were armed with guns of ancient make,
while some had spears, and others bows and arrows. A few had
grabbed up stones as weapons.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Tom. "It's a flag of truce! He wants to
talk with us I believe!"
"A little," answered Abe Abercrombie. "I can talk some of
their lingo, too. Maybe I'd better see what they want."
"I reckon that's as far as it'll be healthy for you t' come,"
spoke Abe, grimly. "Now what do you fellers want?"
"No. you don't! None of that!" muttered Abe. "If you had your
way you'd take everything we have."
"Why, the beggar began fair enough," replied the miner. "He
said one of their number had been in the cave when a storm came
an' saw a big spirit fly in, with men on its back. He ran away
an' now others have come to see what it was. They don't guess
it's an airship, for they've never seen one. but they know we're
white folks, an' they always want things white folks have
got."
"What are you going to tell them?" inquired Mr. Damon.
"Yes, but--"
Thereupon he began once more to talk to the Indians in their
own tongue. His words were at first received in silence, and then
angry cries came from the natives. The chief made a gesture of
protest.
The peaceful demeanor of the Indians now turned to rage. The
leader dropped the rag that had served for a flag of truce, and
took back his gun.
"Well, we're ready for 'em!" answered Abe, grimly.
Suddenly the Indians halted. They gazed upward, and pointed to
something in the air above their heads. They gave utterance to
cries of fear.
"Let's look," suggested Ned. He and Tom stepped to the mouth
of the cave--they went outside. There was little danger from the
natives now, as their attention was fixed on something else.
Floating in the air, almost over the cave, was a great
airship--a large craft, nearly the size of the RED CLOUD. Hardly
able to believe the evidence of their eyes, Tom and Ned watched
it. Whence had it come? Whither was it going?
"A triplane!" repeated Tom. "Yes--it is--and it's the airship
of Andy Foger! Our rivals are on our track!"
THE RACE
"Do you really think that is Andy Foger?" asked Ned, as they
watched the progress of the triplane.
"It isn't going very fast," objected Ned.
"Yes, but he didn't have to travel as far as we did," went on
Ned. "He put his ship together at Sitka, and we came from
Seattle."
"Nothing, I guess," answered Tom. "I'd just as soon they
wouldn't see us. I don't believe they will. Get back into the
cave. We must use strategy now to get ahead of them. There will
be a race to the valley of gold."
"How?" asked Mr. Parker, who was still examining his gun, as
though trying to understand it.
The gold-seekers had withdrawn inside the mouth of the cave,
where they could watch the progress of the rival airship without
being seen. The Indians had disappeared beyond a snow-covered
hill.
The adventurers held a short consultation, while standing at
the mouth of the cave watching the progress of the ANTHONY. It
rose in the air, and circled about.
"Well, we'll start out after him to-morrow," decided Tom. "I
think all the patches will hold then."
"I don't reckon they'll come back," spoke Abe, grimly. "They
think we are sure-enough spirits, now, able to call creatures out
of the air whenever we want 'em. But still we must be on our
guard."
The cold seemed to increase, and, even in the sheltered cave
the adventurers felt it. There were several heavy flurries of
snow that afternoon, and winter seemed setting in with a
vengeance. The daylight, too, was not of long duration, for the
sun was well south now, and in the far polar regions it was
perpetual night.
The RED CLOUD was wheeled from the cave, and set on a level
place. There was not room enough to make a flying start, and
ascend by means of the planes and propellers, so the gas-bag
method was used. The generating machine was put in operation, and
soon the big red bag that hovered over the craft began to fill.
Tom was glad to see that none of the several compartments leaked.
The bag had been well repaired.
"Once more northward bound!" cried Tom, as he took his place
in the pilothouse.
All that morning the RED CLOUD shot ahead at good speed. The
craft had suffered no permanent damage during her fight with the
hail storm, and was as good as ever. They ate dinner high in the
air, while sailing over a great stretch of whiteness, where the
snow lay many feet deep on the level, and where great mountain
crags were so covered with the glistening mantle and a coating of
ice as to resemble the great bergs that float in the polar
sea.
"Yes, there are scattered tribes of Indians and Alaskan
natives. They live by hunting and fishing, and travel around by
means of dog sledges. But it's a dreary life. Me an' my partner
had all we wanted of it. An airship for mine!"
"Let me try," suggested Ned. "Put her up a bit, Tom, where I
can look down. Andy won't dare go very high. Maybe I can sight
him."
"See what you make that out to be," suggested Ned. "It looks
like a big bird, yet I haven't seen any other birds to-day."
"It's Andy's airship! He's ahead of us! We must catch him!
Ned, you and Mr. Damon speed up the motor! The race is on!"
"The race is on!" repeated the young inventor grimly, as he
pulled the speed lever over another notch.
Had it not been for what was at stake, the race between the
two big airships would have been an inspiring one to those aboard
Tom's craft. As it was they were too anxious to overcome the
unfair advantage taken by Andy to look for any of the finer
points in the contest of the air.
"He didn't do very much of it," declared Ned. "He hired the
best part of that made. Andy hasn't any inventive ideas. He
probably said he wanted an airship, and his dad put up the money
and hired men to build it for him. Andy, Sam and Pete only
tinkered around on it."
"Do you think he can beat us?" asked Ned, anxiously.
"Then why don't you get ahead of him?" asked Mr. Damon. "Bless
my tape-measure! the way to win a race is to beat."
"Then what are you going to do if you don't get ahead of him?"
asked Ned.
"Good idea! That's th' stuff!" cried Abe with enthusiasm.
Tom carried out his plan. The remainder of the day he hung
just on Andy's flank, sometimes shooting high up, almost out of
sight, and again coming down, just to show what the RED CLOUD
could do when pressed.
"I wonder who he's got with him?" said Ned, as darkness was
closing down. "I can't make out any one by this glass. They stick
pretty closely to the cabin."
"He certainly needs money," admitted Ned. "Jove! but I hope we
beat him!"
The direction held by Andy's craft was a general northwestern
one, and Tom knew, in time, and that very soon, it would bring
the ANTHONY over the valley of gold. Evidently Andy was placing
some faith in his copy of the stolen map.
"What are you going to do?" asked Ned.
"That's the way to talk!" cried Abe. "Once we git on th'
ground we kin hold our own!"
"Now for the test!" he cried, as he went back to the
engine-room. "Here's where we give Andy the go-by, and I don't
think he can catch us!"
Those on the ANTHOMY must have been watching for some such
move as that, for, no sooner had Tom's craft begun to creep up on
his rival than the forward craft also shot ahead.
Tom did catch a glimpse of Andy and his father in the cabin of
the ANTHONY, and he also saw a couple of men working frantically
over the machinery.
This was evident a moment later, for, after the RED CLOUD had
forged ahead, her rival made a clumsy attempt to follow. The
ANTHONY did show a burst of speed, and, for a moment Tom was
apprehensive lest he had underrated his rival's prowess.
"What's the matter?" shouted Tom.
Tom looked. It was but too true. The strain under which the
ANTHONY had been put when the machinists increased the speed, had
been too much for the frame. Two wings broke, and now hung
uselessly down, one on either side. The ANTHONY shot toward the
snow-covered earth!
"Yes," added Tom, grimly, "the race is over as far as they are
concerned."
"There's not much danger," replied the young inventor. "They
can vol-plane back to earth. That's what they're doing," he added
a moment later, as he witnessed the maneuver of the crippled
craft. "They're in no danger, but I don't believe they'll get to
the valley of gold this trip!"
HITTING THE ICE MOUNTAIN
"Don't you think--that is to say--I know they can't expect
anything from us," spoke Mr. Damon, "but for humanity's sake,
hadn't we better stop and help them, Tom?"
"I don't just mean that," went on the odd man. "But they may
starve to death. This is a very desolate country over which we
are sailing."
"They're in no great danger," put in Abe.
"Very well, if you say so," assented Mr. Damon. He looked back
to watch the ANTHONY slowly settling to earth. It came gently
down, proving that Tom knew whereof he spoke, when he had said
they could vol-plane down. Before the RED CLOUD was out of sight
Tom and his companions saw Andy and his father leave their
wrecked craft and venture out on the snow-covered ground. The
Fogers gazed enviously after the airship of our hero as they saw
him still forging toward the goal.
The remainder of that day saw our adventurers pursuing their
way eagerly. At times they were flying high, and again, when Abe
suggested that they go down to observe the character of the
country over which they were passing, they skimmed along, just
above the big mountains, which seemed almost like icebergs, so
covered were they with frost and snow.
Once in a while they had glimpses of bands of Indians, dressed
in furs, hunting. At such times the natives would look up, on
hearing the noise made by the motor of the airship, and catching
a glimpse of what must have seemed to them like some supernatural
object, they would fall down prostrate in amazement and fear.
The weather was new very cold, and the gold-seekers had to get
out their heavy fur garments, of which they had brought along a
goodly supply. True, it was warm in the cabin of the airship, but
at times, they wanted to venture out on the deck to get fresh
air, or to make some adjustments to the wing planes, and, on such
occasions the keen, frosty air, as it was driven past them by the
motion of the craft, made even the thickest garments seem none
too warm. Then, too, it was colder at the elevation at which they
flew than down on the ground.
"Do you think you can pilot us right to the Snow Mountains,
Abe?" asked Tom, on the third day after the accident to Andy's
airship. "Let's get out the map, and have another look at it. We
must be getting near the place now. We'll look at the map."
"Nope," answered the miner. "I ain't seen it since just before
th' hail storm. We was lookin' at it then."
"Me? No, I haven't seen it."
They heard him rummaging again in his desk.
Tom came back again.
Then ensued a frantic search. Every possible place in the
airship was looked into, but the precious map did not turn
up.
"That's not possible," said Tom. "They haven't been near
enough to us since I saw the map last. No, the last time I had it
was just before the hail storm, and, in the excitement of
repairing the ship, I have mislaid it."
"It's possible," admitted the young inventor. "Pshaw! It's
very careless of me!"
"Don't go back!" exclaimed old Abe. "I think we can find th'
valley of gold without th' map, now that we have come this far. I
sort of remember th' marks on that parchment, an' we are in the
right neighborhood now, for I kin see some of th' landmarks my
partner and I saw. I say, let's keep on! We can cruise around a
bit until we strike th' right place. That won't take us so long
as it would to go back to the cave. Besides, if we go back, the
Fogers may get ahead of us!"
"Can't they repair it?" demanded Abe.
But they would not hear of him blaming himself, and said it
might have happened to any one. It was decided that the map must
be lost in the big cave, and if it was there it was not likely to
be found by their enemies.
It was dusk when the fruitless search for the map was over,
and they sat in the cabin discussing matters. The lights had not
yet been switched on, and the RED CLOUD was skimming along under
the influence of the automatic rudders and the propellers.
He started toward the galley, while Tom went forward to the
pilothouse. Hardly had he reached it than there came a terrific
crash, and the airship seemed tossed back by some giant hand.
Every one was thrown off his feet, and the lights which had been
turned on suddenly went out.
"Have we hit anything?" demanded Mr. Damon.
As he spoke the airship began slowly settling toward the
earth, for her machinery had been stopped by the terrific
impact.
"Can I help you, Tom? What's to be done?" demanded Ned Newton,
as he rushed to where his chum was yanking on various levers and
gear wheels.
"Can't we do something?" yelled Ned. "Start the propellers,
Tom!"
Ned hurried to obey this order. He saw Tom's object. With the
big bag full of gas the airship would settle gently to earth as
easily as though under the command of the propellers and wing
planes.
"Bless my salt-cellar!" cried Mr. Damon. "We are almost
standing on our heads!"
He scrambled from the forward door of the cabin, no easy task
considering how it was tilted, and the others followed him. It
was too dark to note just how much damage had been inflicted, but
Tom was relieved to see, as nearly as he could judge, that it was
confined to the forward part of the front platform or deck of the
ship. The wooden planking was split, but the extent of the break
could not be ascertained until daylight. The searchlight
connections had been broken by the collision, and it could not be
used.
But, to their joy, they found only a small break in the motor.
That was what caused it to stop, and also put the dynamo out of
commission.
"Bless my coffee-spoon!" cried Mr. Damon, who seemed to be
running to table accessories in his blessings. Perhaps it was
because it was so near supper time. "Bless my coffee-spoon! But
how did it happen?"
"We can't do anything to-night," observed Ned.
But he forgot this in the work of getting a meal, and, though
it was prepared under considerable difficulties, at last it was
ready.
It was cold work, even wearing their thick garments; but,
after laboring until their fingers were stiff from the frost, Ned
hit on the idea of building a big fire of some evergreen trees
near where the ship lay.
The RED CLOUD was tilted on some rough and uneven ground, in
among some little hills. On either side arose big peaks, the one
in particular that they had hit towering nearly fifteen thousand
feet.
"Do you think we are anywhere near the valley of gold?" asked
Mr. Damon that afternoon, when the work was nearly finished.
"Then we'll soon be there," said Tom. "I'll start in the
morning. I could go to-night, but there are a few adjustments I
want to make to the motor, and, besides, I think it will be
safer, now that we are among these peaks, to navigate in
daylight, or at least with the searchlight going. I should have
thought of that before."
"Pleasant prospect," murmured Tom. Then he said aloud: "Well
if you are going, Mr. Parker, we'll be with you. I'll be glad of
the chance to stretch my legs, and what more remains to be done,
can be finished in the morning."
"We are nearing th' Arctic circle," the old miner said, "and
we'll soon be among th' most savage of the Eskimo tribes."
"Yes, plenty of musk ox" answered Abe.
As they neared their craft Tom saw several large, shaggy black
objects standing in a line on the path the adventurers had come
over a little while before. The objects were between the
gold-seekers and the RED CLOUD.
"Look to me like black stones," spoke Ned.
The boys and Mr. Parker needed no second warning. Turning so
as to rush past the shaggy creatures, the four headed toward the
ship.
"Here they come!" yelled Ned.
"Oh, if I only had my gun!" groaned Abe.
"Try around the other way!" directed Tom, They changed their
direction, but the oxen also shifted their ground, and with loud
bellows of rage came on, shaking their shaggy heads and big
horns, while the hair, hanging down from their sides and flanks,
dragged in the snow.
They followed his advice. Yelling like Indians the four rushed
straight for the animals. For a moment only the creatures halted.
Then, bellowing louder than ever they rushed straight at Tom and
the others.
"Mr. Damon! Mr. Damon!" yelled Tom, frantically. "Get a gun
and shoot these beasts!"
"Now's our time!" yelled Tom. "Head for the ship, I'll get my
electric gun!"
But the scientist had arisen, and was running toward the RED
CLOUD. He did not seem to be much hurt. Mr. Damon fired again,
hitting another beast, but not mortally.
THE CAVES OF ICE
"Bless my powder-horn! I will!" cried the excited man. "I'll
fire all the cartridges there are in the rifle!"
Not for long, however. Our friends had barely reached the
airship, with Mr. Parker stumbling and slipping on the ice and
snow, ere the musk oxen came on again, with loud bellows.
"I think I can stop them!" cried Tom, who had leaped toward
his stateroom. He came out a moment later, carrying a
peculiar-looking gun, The adventurers had seen it before, but
never in operation, as Tom had only put some finishing touches on
it since undertaking the voyage to the caves of ice.
"It's my new electric rifle," answered the young inventor. "I
don't know how it will work, as it isn't entirely finished, but
I'm going to try it."
"One down!" yelled Tom. "My rifle works all right, even if it
isn't finished!"
"Here goes for the big one!" cried Tom, and, aiming at the
largest ox of the herd, the young inventor pulled the lever. The
brute fell over dead, and the rest, terror stricken, turned and
fled.
"Mighty lucky we drove them away," declared Abe. "They are
terrible savage at times, an' I reckon we struck one of them
times. But say, Tom, what sort of a gun is that you got,
anyhow?"
They hurried to where the shaggy creatures lay in the snow,
and soon there was enough fresh meat to last a long time, as it
would keep well in the intense cold. Tom put away his electric
gun, briefly explaining the system of it to his companions. The
time was to come, and that not very far off, when that same
electric rifle was to save his life in a remarkable manner, in
the wilds of Africa where he went to hunt elephants.
"I did not complete my observations about the great snow
slide," remarked Professor Parker, "I trust I will have time to
go over the ground again to-morrow."
"Besides, I don't believe it would be safe to go over that
ground again," put in Mr. Damon.
"Not hurt in the least," answered the scientist. "My heavy and
thick fur garments saved me from the beasts' horns, and I fell in
some soft snow. I was quite startled for a moment. I thought it
might be the beginning of the snow movement."
Morning saw the travelers again under way, with the Red Cloud
now floating high enough to avoid the lofty peaks. The weather
was clear but very cold, and Tom, who was in the pilot-house,
could see a long distance ahead, and note many towering crags,
which, had the airship been flying low enough, would have
interfered with her progress.
"Are we anywhere near the place?" asked Mr. Damon.
"There wouldn't have been any trouble if I hadn't lost the
map." complained Tom, bitterly.
The young inventor glanced to where Abe pointed. There was a
mist in the air, and, for a time great apprehension was felt,
but, in a few minutes there was a violent flurry of snow and they
all breathed easier. For, though the flakes were so numerous as
to completely shut off the view, there was no danger to the
airship from them. Tom steered by the compass.
Abe declared they were now in the region of the gold valley.
They cruised about for two days, making vain observations by
means of powerful telescopes, but they saw no signs of any
depression which corresponded with the place whence Abe had seen
the gold taken from. At times they passed over Indian villages,
and had glimpses of the skin-clad inhabitants rushing out to
point to the strange sight of the airship overhead. Tom was
beginning to reproach himself again for his carelessness in
losing the map, and it did begin to took as if they were making a
fruitless search.
"What's the matter?" demanded the young inventor, as he
hurried forward.
Tom looked. Below were countless, rounded hummocks of snow or
ice. Some were very large--as immense as a great shed in which a
dirigible balloon could be housed--while others were as small as
the ice huts in which the Eskimos live.
But he did not complete his sentence, for Abe Abercrombie, who
had come to stand beside him, suddenly yelled out:
IN THE GOLD VALLEY
"Bless my refrigerator!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Are there more
of those savage, shaggy creatures down there?"
"You don't say so!" burst out the scientist. "The caves of
ice! Now I can begin my real observations! I have a theory that
the caves are on top of a strata of ice that is slowly moving
down, and will eventually bury the whole of the North American
continent. Let me once get down there, and I can prove what I
say."
"I don't think so," said Abe, shaking his head.
"Well, we'll go down here, anyhow," decided Tom, and he pulled
the lever to let some gas out of the bag, and tilted the
deflection rudder to send the airship toward the odd caves.
This method of their formation was advanced as a theory by Mr.
Parker, and no one cared to dispute him. The gold-seekers walked
about, gazing on the ice caves with wonder showing on their
faces.
"Wonderful! Wonderful!" exclaimed Mr. Parker. "It bears out my
theory exactly! Now to see how fast the ice is moving."
"By taking some mark on this field of ice, and observing a
distant peak. Then I will set up a stake, and by noting their
relative positions, I can tell just how fast the ice field is
moving southward." The scientist hurried into the ship to get a
sharpened stake he had prepared for this purpose.
"Oh, perhaps two or three feet a year." "Two or three feet a
year?" gasped Mr. Damon. "Why, Parker, my dear fellow, at that
rate it will be some time before the ice gets to New York."
"Humph!" exclaimed Abe Abercrombie, "I ain't goin' to worry
any more, if it's goin' t' take all that while. I reckoned, to
hear him talk, that it was goin' t' happen next summer."
"Some of these caverns would be big enough to house the RED
CLOUD in case of another hail storm," observed Tom. "That one
over there would hold two craft the size of mine," and, in fact,
probably three could have gotten in if the opening had been
somewhat enlarged, for the ice cave to which our hero pointed was
an immense one.
"It's a good thing we weren't in there," remarked Tom, and he
could not repress a shudder, "There wouldn't have been much left
of the RED CLOUD if she had been inside."
"How fast is it moving, Parker?" called Mr. Damon.
"Then we might as well go on," suggested Tom. "There is
nothing to be gained from staying here, and I would like to get
to the gold valley. Abe says we are near it."
"Not much danger, I guess," declared Ned.
They found the "ridge" as Abe designated it. to be a great
plateau, over a hundred miles in extent, and they were the better
part of that day crossing it, for they went slowly, so as not to
miss the valley which the miner was positive was close at hand.
Mr. Parker disliked leaving the ice caves, but Abe said there
were more in the valley where they were going, and the scientist
could renew his observations.
"Well, we're at the end of the plateau, and it seems to dip
down into a valley just beyond here."
Our hero needed no such caution. Carefully he sent the airship
forward. A few minutes later they were passing over a large
Eskimo village, the fur-clad inhabitants of which rushed about
wildly excited at the sight of the airship.
"Are you sure this is the place?" asked Mr. Damon.
"All right," agreed the young inventor, as he shifted the
deflection rudder. The airship began her descent into the valley.
The edge of the plateau, leading down into the great depression
was now black with the Eskimos and Indians, who were capering
about, gesticulating wildly.
"Yes, I hope they don't spring one on us," added Tom.
"There are ice caves there!" cried Mr. Parker, pointing to the
curiously rounded and hollow hummocks. "Lots of them!"
The airship was now moving slowly, for Tom wanted to pick out
a good landing place. He saw a smooth stretch of the ice just
ahead of him, in front of an immense ice cave.
A few minutes later the craft had come to rest. Tom shut off
the power and hurried from the pilothouse, donning his fur coat
as he rushed out. A blast of frigid air met him as he opened the
outer door of the cabin. Back on the ridge of the plateau he
could see the fringe of Indians.
"An' now for th' gold!" cried Abe, "for it's here that th'
nuggets are--enough for all of us! Come on an' have a hunt for
'em!"
In Spite of the fact that he tried to remain calm, Tom Swift
felt a wild exultation as he thought of what lay before him and
his friends. To be in a place where gold could be picked up!
where they might all become fabulously wealthy! where the ground
might be seen covered with the precious yellow metal! this was
enough to set the nerves of any one a-tingle!
But if they expected to see the precious yellow nuggets lying
about ready to be picked up like so many kernels of corn, they
were disappointed. A quick look all about showed them only a vast
extent of ice and snow, broken here and there by the big caves of
ice. There were not so many of the latter as at the first place
they stopped, but the caverns were larger.
"Bless my pocketbook, yes! Where is it?" demanded Mr.
Damon.
"Does it ever thaw up here?" asked Mr. Parker. "The ice of the
caves seems thick enough to last forever."
"Maybe we can keep on to the Pole," suggested Ned.
"Yes, an' I'm goin' t' begin diggin' right away!" exclaimed
Abe, as he turned back into the airship, and came out again with
a pick and shovel, a supply of which implements had been brought
along. The others followed his example. and soon the ice chips
were flying about in a shower, while the sun shining on them gave
the appearance of a rainbow.
"Do you think there's any danger from them. Abe?" asked
Tom.
Mr. Damon was also vigorously wielding a pick, but Mr. Parker
like the true scientist he was, had renewed his observations.
Evidently the gold had no attractions for him, or, if it did, he
preferred to wait until he had finished his calculations.
"What's up?" asked Ned, resting from his labors.
"It looks strong," said Ned. "Let's ask Mr. Parker his
opinion."
The scientist was soon taking measurements of the thickness of
the cave roof, noting its formation, and looking at the frozen
floor.
"Then I'll run her in, and she'll be safer," decided Tom. "I
guess we three can do it, Ned, and leave Mr. Damon and Abe to
keep on digging for gold." The airship was so buoyant that it
could easily be moved about on the bicycle wheels on which it
rested, and soon, after the lower edge of the opening into the
ice cave had been smoothed down, the RED CLOUD was placed in the
novel shelter.
"You've got t' stick t' one lead until you find somethin', or
until it peters out," explained the miner. "You must git down to
th' dirt before you'll find any gold, though you may strike a few
grains that have worked up into th' ice."
All the rest of that day they dug, but with no result. Not
even a few grains of yellow dust rewarded their efforts.
"I'm positive of it," was the reply. "There's gold here, but
it will take some prospectin' t' find it. Maybe th' deposits have
been shifted by th' ice movement, as Mr. Parker says. But it's
here, an' we'll git it. We'll try ag'in t'-morrow."
They were scattered in different places on the ice, not far
away from the big cave, each one picking away vigorously.
Suddenly Abe, who had laboriously worked his way down to the
dirt, gave an exultant yell.
"Gold! Gold!" cried Abe. "We've struck it at last!"
"Bless my handkerchief!" cried Mr. Damon. "What's that?"
"The natives are coming to attack us!" cried Ned.
"Get the guns! Where's your electric rifle, Tom?" cried Mr.
Damon.
"Bless my cartridge-belt! Why not?" demanded the eccentric
man.
Tom nodded grimly. A few minutes later the sleds had come to a
halt not far from our friends, and Andy, followed by his father,
leaped off his conveyance. The two were clad in heavy fur
garments.
Tom and his companions did not know what to say.
There was a sneering look on Andy's face, and Mr. Foger, too,
seemed delighted at having reached the valley of gold almost as
soon as had our friends. Tom and the others looked at the means
by which the bully had arrived. There were four sleds, each one
drawn by seven dogs, and in charge of a dark-skinned native. On
the two foremost sleds Andy and his father had ridden, while the
other two evidently contained their supplies.
"We'll camp here. You fellows get to work and make an ice
house, and some of you cook a meal--I'm hungry."
"Why not?" demanded Andy.
"Ha! That's a good idea," agreed Mr. Foger, "Andy, my son, we
have houses already made for us, and very comfortable they seem,
too. We'll take up our quarters in one, and then hunt for the
gold."
"Look here, you Fogers!" he exclaimed without ceremony, "was
you calculatin' on stakin' any claims here?"
"I don't know about that," went on Abe, grimly. "I ain't goin'
t' say nothin' now, about th' way you stole th' map from me, an'
made a copy, but I am goin t' say this, an' that is it won't be
healthy fer any of you t' git in my way, or t' try t' dig on our
claims!"
"We own as much of it as we care to stake out, by right of
prior discovery!" declared Tom, firmly.
"Wait jest a minute," spoke Abe calmly, as he put his little
store of nuggets in the pocket of his fur coat, and drew out a
big revolver. "It ain't healthy t' talk that way, Andy Foger, an'
th' sooner you find that out th' better. You ain't in Shopton
now, an' th' only law here is what we make for ourselves. Tom,
maybe you'd better get out th' rifles, an' your electric gun,
after all. It seems like we might have trouble," and Abe cooly
looked to see if his weapon was loaded.
"We could if we wanted to," declared Abe stoutly; "but we'll
be content with three-quarter of it, seein' we was here fust. If
you folks want t' dig fer gold, go over there," and he pointed to
a spot some distance away.
"Oh, will you?" and there was an angry light in Abe's eyes. "I
guess, Tom, you'd better git--"
The bully seemed about to refuse, but a look at Abe's angry
face and a sight of Mr. Damon coming from the cave where the
airship was, with a rifle, for the eccentric man had hastened to
get his weapon-this sight calmed Andy down. Without further words
he and his father got back on their sleds, and were soon being
driven off to where a large ice cave loomed up, about a mile
away.
"I don't know about that," spoke Tom, shaking his head
dubiously. "There's always trouble when Andy Foger's within a
mile. I'm afraid we haven't seen the last of him."
"They must have come on all the way from where their airship
was wrecked, by means of dog sleds," observed Ned, and the others
agreed with him. Later they learned that this was so; that after
the accident to the ANTHONY, the crew had refused to proceed
farther north, and had gone back. But Mr. Foger had hired the
natives with the dog teams, and, by means of the copy of the map
and with what knowledge his Eskimos had, had reached the valley
of gold.
The scientist agreed to do this part of the work, it being
understood that all the gold discovered would be shared equally
after the expenses of the trip had been paid.
No more attention was paid to the Fogers, but through the
telescope Tom could see that the bully and his father had made a
camp in one of the ice caves, and that both were eagerly digging
in the frozen surface of the valley.
"We'll stand watch an' watch," suggested Abe, "but I don't
think them Fogers will come around here ag'in."
The gold seemed to be in "pockets," and that day the ones in
the vicinity of the strike first made by Abe were cleaned
out.
Tom and Ned were digging together not far from one another.
Suddenly Ned let out a joyful cry.
"Something rich," answered the bank clerk. He lifted from a
hole in the ground a handful of the golden pebbles.
The three men were some distance away, and there was no sign
of the Fogers. Tom and Ned hurried back to where their friends
were, leaving their picks and shovels on the frozen ground.
As they emerged from behind a big hummock of ice they saw,
standing over the holes which the lads had dug, Andy Foger and
his father! Each one had a rifle, and there was a smile of
triumph on Andy's face!
"We've just staked out a claim here," answered the bully.
"But we didn't abandon it!" declared Tom. "We only went away
to get the stakes."
"Yes, pa."
ATTACKED BY NATIVES
"I guess Andy must have been spying on us," spoke Ned, "or he
would never have known when to rush up just as he did; as soon as
we left."
"But, bless my penholder!" cried Mr. Damon. "Can't we do
something, Abe? Won't the law--?"
"What do you mean by that?" asked Tom, detecting a gleam of
hope in Abe's tone.
They walked away, leaving Andy and his father in possession of
the rich deposits of gold, and that it was much richer even then
than the hole Abe had first discovered was very evident. The two
Fogers were soon at work, digging out the yellow metal with the
pick and shovels Tom and Ned had so thoughtlessly dropped.
"Of course not," replied the lad quickly, "but I'd like to
meet Andy alone, with nothing but my fists for a little while,"
and Tom's eyes snapped.
"Perhaps we can find another pocket of gold better than that
one," suggested Mr. Damon.
"You mean if we don't that they'll get all the gold?" asked
Mr. Damon.
"Neither do any of us, I guess," spoke Tom, "but there doesn't
seem to be any help for it."
"They're going to stay on guard," announced Tom. "We can't get
it away from them to-night."
Meanwhile the Fogers were busy at the pocket Ned had located.
They seemed to be taking out much of the precious metal.
"Yes, and it shall be, too!" suddenly exclaimed. Abe. "I think
I have a plan that will beat 'em."
"Let's get back to the ship, and I'll tell you," said Abe. "We
can't tell when one of their natives might be sneakin' in among
these ice caves, an' they understand some English. They might
give my scheme away."
They would divide into two parties, one consisting of Ned and
Tom, and the other of the three men. The latter, by a circuitous
route, would go to the ice caves where the Fogers had established
their camp. It was there that the Indians remained during the
day, while Andy and his father labored at the gold pocket, for,
after the first day when they had had the natives aid them,
father and son had worked alone at the hole, probably fearing to
trust the Indians. At night, though either Andy or his father
remained on guard, with one or two of the dusky-skinned dog
drivers.
"Th' Fogers will imagine we are tryin' t' git away with their
sleds an' supplies, an' maybe their gold, if they've got it
stored in th' ice cave. Naturally Andy or his father will run
here, an' that will leave only one on guard at th' mine. Then Tom
an' Ned can sneak up. Th' two of 'em will be a match for even th'
old Foger, if he happens t' stay, an' while Tom or Ned comes up
in front, t' hold his attention, th' other can come up in back,
an' grab his arms, if he tries t' shoot. Likely Andy will remain
at th' gold hole, an' you two lads kin handle him, can't
you?"
The plan worked like a charm. Abe, Mr. Damon and Mr. Parker
raised a great din at the ice cave where the Foger natives were.
The sound carried to the hole where Andy and his father were
digging out the gold. Mr. Foger at once ran toward the cave,
while Andy, catching up his gun, remained on the alert.
"Here! You keep away!" cried Andy, catching sight of Ned. "I
see what the game is, now! It's a trick!"
"Keep away if you don't want to get hurt!" yelled Andy.
"Yes, I would! Keep back!" Andy was nervously fingering his
weapon. The next instant his gun flew from his grasp, and he went
over backward in Tom's strong grip; for the young inventor, in
his sealskin shoes had worked up in the rear without a sound. The
next moment Andy broke away and was running for his life, leaving
Tom and Ned in possession of the gold hole, and that without a
shot being fired. A little later the three men, who had hurried
away from the cave as Mr. Foger rushed up to see what caused the
racket, joined Tom and Ned, and formal possession was taken of
their lucky strike.
But there seemed to be no need, for the following day there
was no trace of the Fogers. They and their natives had
disappeared.
It was three days after our friends had regained their mine,
during which time they had dug out considerable gold, that toward
evening, as Tom was taking the last of the output of yellow
pebbles into the cave where the airship was, he looked across the
valley.
"It is," agreed Ned, "quite a large party, too!"
Abe, Mr. Damon and Mr. Parker hurried from the ice cave. They
had caught up their guns as they ran out.
"They're Indians, all right!" exclaimed Abe. "Hark! What's
that?"
Through the gathering dusk the party advanced. Our friends
closely scanned them. There was something familiar about the two
leading figures, and it could now be seen that in the rear were a
number of dog sleds.
"That's right!" admitted Tom. "I guess we're in for it
now!"
"It's a fierce attack!" cried Tom. "Into the ice cave for
shelter! We can cover the gold mine from there. I'll get my
electric gun!"
Almost before our friends could retreat into the cave which
now sheltered the RED CLOUD, the attacking natives opened fire.
Fortunately they only had old-fashioned, muzzle-loading muskets,
and, as their aim was none of the best, there was comparatively
little danger. The bullets, however, did sing through the
fastgathering darkness with a vicious sound, and struck the heavy
sides and sloping front of the ice cave with a disconcerting
"ping!"
"That's right," agreed Tom's chum, "I don't believe Andy or
his father dare fire. They're afraid to, and they're putting the
poor ignorant natives up to it. Probably they hired them to try
to drive us away."
The battle, if such it could be called, was kept up. There was
about a hundred natives, all of whom had guns, and, though they
were slow to load, there were enough weapons to keep up a
constant fusilade. On their part, Tom and the others fired at
first over the heads of the natives, for they did not want to
kill any of the deluded men. Later, though, when they saw the
rush keeping up, they fired at their legs, and disabled several
of the Eskimos, the electric gun proving very effective.
This sort of shooting was enough, and the natives scurried
away. Then Tom hit on the plan of playing the searchlight on the
spot, and this effectually prevented an unseen attack. It seemed
to discourage the enemy, too for they did not venture into that
powerful glow of light.
They took turns standing guard that night, but no attack was
made. The fact of the Fogers coming back with the band of Indians
told Tom, more plainly than words, how desperately his enemies
would do battle with them. Anxiously they waited for the
morning.
"It isn't that," answered the scientist, "but I am worried
about the ice. I can detect a slight but peculiar movement by
means of some of my scientific instruments. I am alarmed about
it. I fear something is going to happen."
With the first streak of the late dawn, the gold-seekers were
up, and partook of a hot breakfast, with strong coffee which Mr.
Damon brewed. Tom took an observation from the mouth of the cave.
The searchlight was still dimly glowing, and it did not disclose
anything. Tom turned it off. He thought he saw a movement among
the ranks of the enemy, who had camped just beyond the gold
hole.
The adventurers caught up their guns, and hurried to the
entrance of the cave. Mr. Parker lingered behind, and was
observed to be narrowly scanning the walls of the cavern.
"We may soon be in a worse one," was the answer of the gloomy
scientist.
Suddenly, from without the cave came a series of fierce yells.
It was the battle-cry of the Indians. At the same moment there
sounded a fusillade of guns.
As the defenders of the cave reached the entrance they saw the
body of natives rushing forward. They were almost at the gold
hole, with Andy Foger and his father discreetly behind the first
row of Eskimos, when, with a suddenness that was startling, there
sounded throughout the whole valley a weird sound!
"This will delay the attack," murmured Ned, "They can't see to
come at us."
"We must leave here at once!" he cried.
"It must be done!" insisted the scientist. "We must leave the
cave at once!"
"Because the movement of the ice that I predicted, has begun.
It is much more rapid than I supposed it would be. In a short
time this cave and all the others will be crushed flat!"
"Yes, the caves of ice are being destroyed! Hark! You can hear
them snapping!"
"The ice caves are being destroyed by an upheaval of nature!"
went on Mr. Parker. "This one will soon go! The walls are bulging
now! We must get out!"
"I guess the natives are as bad off as we are," suggested Ned.
"They're not firing, and I can hear cries of alarm, I think
they're running away."
"We have no time to lose!" Mr. Parker warned them. "The roof
of this cave is slowly coming down. The sides are collapsing! We
must get out!"
The young inventor hurried to the RED CLOUD calling to Ned and
the others. They hastened to his side. It was an easy matter to
move the airship along on the wheels. It neared the opening of
the cave. The rumbling, roaring, grinding sound of the ice
increased.
"The cave is collapsing--growing smaller every moment!" cried
Mr. Parker. "We have only time to save our lives! Run out!"
"You must! You can't save that and your life!"
"No time! No time!" shouted Mr. Parker, frantically, "We must
get out! Save what you can from the ship--the gold--some
supplies--the guns--some food--save what you can!"
Tom gave one last look at his fine craft. There were tears in
his eyes. He started into the cabin for something he had
forgotten. Mr. Parker grabbed him by the arm.
Then with a rush and a roar, with a sound like a great
explosion, with a rending, grinding and booming as the great
pieces of ice collapsed one against the other, the big ice cave
settled in, as does some great building when the walls are
weakened!
Tom felt a moisture of tears in his eyes as he stood there in
the midst of the snowstorm.
For a few moments after the collapse of the cave, and the
destruction of the airship, on which they depended to take them
from that desolate land, no one spoke. The calamity had been too
terrible--they could hardly understand it.
"Well, we are up against it," spoke Tom, softly. "Poor old RED
CLOUD! There'll never be another airship like you!"
But his honor was an empty one--no one cared to dispute it
with him.
"Start from here as soon as possible," decided Abe.
"No, but we have only a small supply of food, my lad, an' it's
hard to git up here. We must hit th' trail fer civilization as
soon as we kin!"
"Walk!" exclaimed the miner, grimly. "It's th' only way!"
"Well, if we've got to go, we'd better start," suggested Tom,
sadly. "Poor old RED CLOUD!"
They walked over to the hole whence they had taken the yellow
nuggets. The "pocket" was not to be seen. It was buried out of
sight under tons of ice.
"Bless my soul! Is it as bad as that!" cried Mr. Damon.
It was a melancholy party. Fortunately the weather had turned
a little warmer or they might have been frozen to death. They
tramped all that day, shaping their course to take them out of
the valley on a side well away from where the hostile natives
lived. At night they made rude shelters of snow and blocks of ice
and ate cold victuals. The second day it grew colder, and they
were slightly affected by snow-blindness, for they had lost their
dark glasses in the cave.
They were just getting ready to go into a cheerless camp for
the night, when Tom, who was a little in advance, looked
ahead.
"What does it look like?" asked his chum.
"That's what it is," agreed Ned, after an observation. "Maybe
it's the Fogers, or some of the savage Indians."
Suddenly Abe uttered a cry, but it was one of joy and not
fear.
And so it proved. A few minutes later the gold-seekers were on
the sleds of the friendly Eskimos, some of whom remembered Abe,
and the weary and hungry adventures were being rushed toward the
native village as fast as the dogs could run. It was a hunting
party that had come upon our friends just in time.
Three weeks after that they were on a steamer bound for
civilization, having bidden their friends the Eskimos
good-by.
"I don't blame you," returned Ned. "Are you going to build
another airship, Tom?"
How Tom's plans developed, and what sort of a craft he built
will be related in the next volume of this series, to be called
"Tom Swift and His Sky Racer; or, the Quickest Flight on Record."
In that will be told how the young inventor foiled his enemies,
and how he saved his father's life. Our friends arrived safely at
Shopton in due season. They learned that the two Fogers had
reached there shortly before them. Tom and his party decided not
to prosecute them, and they did not learn the identity of the men
who tried to rob Tom of the map.
The store of gold brought from the North, proved quite
valuable, though but for the unforeseen accidents our friends
could have secured much more. Yet they were well satisfied. With
his share Abe Abercrombie settled down out West, Mr. Damon gave
most of his gold to his wife, Mr. Parker bought scientific
instruments with his, Ned invested his in bank stock, and Tom
Swift, after buying a beautiful gift for a certain pretty young
lady, used part of the remainder to build his Sky Racer.