Victor Appleton - Tom Swift and His Airline Express (Victor Appleton) (Literary Thoughts Edition)

by Victor Appleton

Transscribed and Published 2016 by Jacson Keating (editor)

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“Ours is sure a great plant!” murmured Tom Swift to himself, with justifiable pride. “It would be a credit to anybody. No wonder dad loves it, and so do I. Yes, it sure is a great plant! We’ve had our troubles – our ups and downs – and our enemies have tried their hardest to wipe it out.”

Darkness was slowly gathering over the landscape, shrouding in velvety black the trees which were faintly stirring in the summer breeze. Tom, following an old-time cowpath across the green meadow on his way home from town, topped a little rise and caught a glimpse of the high board fence surrounding the Swift Construction Company’s plant which he and his father had built up after many years of hard work.

Tom paused for a moment to trace, in the fast-gathering shadows of the night, the outlines of the various buildings – the foundry, the wood-working mill, the electrical shop, the hangars where many types of aircraft were housed.

From some of the tall chimneys faint clouds of smoke arose, for certain of the industries carried on by the Swift Construction Company required that furnaces be kept going day and night.

“A great plant – a wonderful plant!” mused Tom. It gave him a certain sense of pleasure to dwell thus in introspection on the accomplishments of his father and himself. And it buoyed him up for the work in prospect – for Tom Swift had a great plan in mind, a plan so great and daring that, as yet, he had said but little of it even to his father or to Ned Newton, his old chum who was now an officer of the concern.

“But it can be done! I know it can be done!” declared Tom. “And I’m going to do it! I’m going to – – ”

In his mental energy he had unconsciously spoken the last words in a low voice, but the sight of something just ahead of him in the gathering darkness caused him to break off abruptly and halt suddenly. Concentrating his gaze, Tom Swift looked eagerly at a clump of bushes.

“It’s a man,” murmured Tom Swift. “A man, sure enough, and it isn’t one of our workers, either. None of them would sneak around as he is doing.”

For that described exactly the movements of the stranger of whom Tom had caught sight in the darkness as he approached the big fence which surrounded his plant.

“What’s he up to?” mused Tom. “No good, that’s sure. He wouldn’t sneak along like that if he were on the level.”

Through Tom’s mind flashed remembrances of times when attempts had been made by enemies of himself and his father to fire the plant. To prevent this, and to keep strangers away, a high fence had been erected around the buildings. This fence was protected by wires on the plan of a burglar alarm, so that, no matter at what point the barrier was climbed, a bell would ring in the main office and on an indicator would appear a number to show at what part of the fence an attempt was being made to scale it.

An effort to break down the barrier, or burrow beneath it, would also sound the alarm in like manner. So Tom had no fear that the sneaking stranger, crouching along in the darkness, could get into the midst of the buildings without notice being given.

“But what’s his game?” thought Tom.

Almost at the instant he asked himself this question he saw the man crawl behind a clump of bushes. In the natural course of events the man should have appeared on the other side of the clump. But he did nothing of the sort.

“He may be hiding there,” mused Tom. “Perhaps waiting for a confederate. I’ll just have a closer look at this!”

He advanced boldly toward the bushes. There was nothing between him and the shrubbery, and it was still light enough to see fairly well. Besides, Tom had extraordinarily good eyes. His astonishment can be imagined when, on reaching the bush off which he had not taken his gaze and behind which he had seen the crawling man disappear he found – no one!

“That’s the queerest thing I’ve seen yet!” exclaimed Tom, rubbing his organs of vision.

Standing beside the bush which came about to his shoulders, Tom looked on all sides of it. There was no hollow in the ground, as far as he could make out, no depression and no other clumps of shrubbery and no boulders behind which a man might be hidden. Some distance away there were all of these things in profusion, for the land was wild and uncultivated outside the plant fence. But there was not a hole, boulder, or bush near enough to the one beside which Tom stood to have enabled a man to gain their protection while the young inventor was watching.

“He just crawled back of his bush and then vanished!” said Tom, in a half whisper to himself. “If only I had a flashlight now – – ” He was startled by hearing some one walking toward him out of the darkness which was now quite dense. “Here he comes!” thought Tom. “Appearing as queerly as he disappeared. Or else it’s one of his confederates.” He could see no one, and his hand clutched something in his pocket that might be used in case he was attacked.

But a moment later, just as Tom’s nerves and muscles were getting tense in anticipation of a struggle, a cheery whistle broke out in the darkness, mingling with the now louder sounds of the footsteps, and Tom, with a cry of relief, called:

“That you, Ned?”

“Sure, old scout!” was the reply. “Oh, there you are!” went on Ned Newton, as he caught sight of Tom at the same moment the young inventor glimpsed his friend and financial manager.

“You’re a bit late,” went on Ned. “I waited for you, and when you didn’t show up I thought I might as well walk in toward town and maybe I’d meet you.”

“Yes, I couldn’t get just what I wanted until I had tried two or three places,” Tom answered. “And then I met a man – – ”

Ned broke into a laugh.

“What’s the idea?” Tom wanted to know.

“Tell that to Mary!” advised his chum. “She may believe that and then you can tell her another.”

“Whew!” shrilly whistled Tom. “I forgot all about Mary. I promised to call on her to-night.”

“Sure you did,” laughed Ned. “And I’ve got a date with Helen. You said we’d go over together and – – ”

“Clean forgot it!” broke in Tom. “And I can’t go now. I’ve got something to do.” Quickly he made up his mind to say nothing to Ned of what he had seen until he investigated a little on his own account. “Here, I tell you what to do,” went on Tom. “Go on, keep your date with Helen, but when you get to her house telephone to Mary for me and say I’ll be a little late. Will you?”