CHAPTER XV.
A VAIN SEARCH
Several hours later Tom had a curious dream. He imagined he waswandering about in the polar regions, and that it was very cold. Hewas trying to reason with himself that he could not possibly be onan expedition searching for the North Pole, still he felt such akeen wind blowing over his scantily-covered body that he shivered.He shivered so hard, in fact, that he shivered himself awake, andwhen he tried to pierce the darkness that enveloped him he wasstartled, for a moment, with the idea that perhaps, after all, hehad wandered off to some unknown country.
For it was quite dark and cold. He was in a daze, and there was acurious smell about him--an odor that he tried to recall. Then, allat once, it came to him what it was--chloroform. Once his father hadundergone an operation, and to deaden his pain chloroform had beenused.
"I've been chloroformed!" exclaimed the young inventor, and hiswords sounded strange in his ears. "That's it. I've met with anaccident riding my motor-cycle. I must have hit my head, for ithurts fearful. They picked me up, carried me to a hospital and haveoperated on me. I wonder if they took off an arm or leg? I wonderwhat hospital I'm in? Why is it so dark and cold?"
As he asked himself these questions his brain gradually cleared fromthe haze caused by the cowardly blow, and from the chloroform thathad been administered by Featherton.
Tom's first act was to feel first of one arm, then the other. Havingsatisfied himself that neither of these members were mutilated hereached down to his legs.
"Why, they're all right, too," he murmured. "I wonder what they didto me? That's certainly, chloroform I smell, and my head feels as ifsome one had sat on it. I wonder--"
Quickly he put up his hands to his head. There appeared to benothing the matter with it, save that there was quite a lump on theback, where the club had struck.
"I seem to be all here," went on Tom, much mystified. "But where amI? That's the question. It's a funny hospital, so cold and dark--"
Just then his hands came in contact with the cold ground on which hewas lying.
"Why, I'm outdoors!" he exclaimed. Then in a flash it all came backto him--how he had gone to wait under the church shed until the rainwas over.
"I fell asleep, and now it's night," the youth went on. "No wonder Iam sore and stiff. And that chloroform--" He could not account forthat, and he paused, puzzled once more. Then he struggled to asitting position. His head was strangely dizzy, but he persisted,and got to his feet. He could see nothing, and groped around in thedark, until he thought to strike a match. Fortunately he had anumber in his pocket. As the little flame flared up Tom started insurprise.
"This isn't the church shed!" he exclaimed. "It's much smaller! I'min a different place! Great Scott! but what has happened to me?"
The match burned Tom's fingers and he dropped it. The darknessclosed in once more, but Tom was used to it by this time, andlooking ahead of him he could make out that the shed was an openone, similar to the one where he had taken shelter. He could see thesky studded with stars, and could feel the cold night wind blowingin.
"My motor-cycle!" he exclaimed in alarm. "The model of dad'sinvention--the papers!"
Our hero thrust his hand into his pocket. The papers were gone!Hurriedly he lighted another match. It took but an instant to glancerapidly about the small shed. His machine was not in sight!
Tom felt his heart sink. After all his precautions he had beenrobbed. The precious model was gone, and it had been his propositionto take it to Albany in this manner. What would his father say?
The lad lighted match after match, and made a rapid tour of theshed. The motor-cycle was not to be seen. But what puzzled Tom morethan anything else was how he had been brought from the church shedto the one where he had awakened from his stupor.
"Let me try to think," said the boy, speaking aloud, for it seemedto help him. "The last I remember is seeing that automobile, withthose mysterious men in, approaching. Then it disappeared in therain. I thought I heard it again, but I couldn't see it. I wassitting on the log, and--and--well, that's all I can remember. Iwonder if those men--"
The young inventor paused. Like a flash it came to him that the menwere responsible for his predicament. They had somehow made himinsensible, stolen his motor-cycle, the papers and the model, andthen brought him to this place, wherever it was. Tom was a shrewdreasoner, and he soon evolved a theory which he afterward learnedwas the correct one. He reasoned out almost every step in the crimeof which he was the victim, and at last came to the conclusion thatthe men had stolen up behind the shed and attacked him.
"Now, the next question to settle," spoke Tom, "is to learn where Iam. How far did those scoundrels carry me, and what has become of mymotor-cycle?"
He walked toward the point of the shed where he could observe thestars gleaming, and there he lighted some more matches, hoping hemight see his machine. By the gleam of the little flame he notedthat he was in a farmyard, and he was just puzzling his brain overthe question as to what city or town he might be near when he hearda voice shouting:
"Here, what you lightin' them matches for? You want to set the placeafire? Who be you, anyhow--a tramp?"
It was unmistakably the voice of a farmer, and Tom could hearfootsteps approaching on the run.
"Who be you, anyhow?" the voice repeated. "I'll have the constableafter you in a jiffy if you're a tramp."
"I'm not a tramp," called Tom promptly. "I've met with an accident.Where am I?"
"Humph! Mighty funny if you don't know where you are," commented thefarmer. "Jed, bring a lantern until I take a look at who this is."
"All right, pop," answered another voice, and a moment later Tom sawa tall man standing in front of him.
"I'll give you a look at me without waiting for the lantern," saidTom quickly, and he struck a match, holding it so that the gleamfell upon his face.
"Salt mackerel! It's a young feller!" exclaimed the farmer. "Who beyou, anyhow, and what you doin' here?"
"That's just what I would like to know," said Tom, passing his handover his head, which was still paining him. "Am I near Albany?That's where I started for this morning."
"Albany? You're a good way from Albany," replied the farmer. "You'rein the village of Dunkirk."
"How far is that from Centreford?"
"About seventy miles."
"As far as that?" cried Tom. "They must have carried me a good wayin their automobile."
"Was you in that automobile?" demanded the farmer.
"Which one?" asked Tom quickly.
"The one that stopped down the road just before supper. I see it,but I didn't pay no attention to it. If I'd 'a' knowed you fell out,though, I'd 'a' come to help you."
"I didn't fall out, Mr.--er--" Tom paused.
"Blackford is my name; Amos Blackford."
"Well, Mr. Blackford, I didn't fall out. I was drugged and broughthere."
"Drugged! Salt mackerel! But there's been a crime committed, then.Jed, hurry up with that lantern an' git your deputy sheriff's badgeon. There's been druggin' an' all sorts of crimes committed. I'vecaught one of the victims. Hurry up! My son's a deputy sheriff," headded, by way of an explanation.
"Then I hope he can help me catch the scoundrels who robbed me,"said Tom.
"Robbed you, did they? Hurry up, Jed. There's been a robbery! We'llrouse the neighborhood an' search for the villains. Hurry up, Jed!"
"I'd rather find my motor-cycle, and a valuable model which was onit, than locate those men," went on Tom. "They also took some papersfrom me."
Then he told how he had started for Albany, adding his theory of howhe had been attacked and carried away in the auto. The latter partof it was borne out by the testimony of Mr. Blackford.
"What I know about it," said the farmer, when his son Jed hadarrived on the scene with a lantern and his badge, "is that jestabout supper time I saw an automobile stop down the road a bit, Itwas gittin' dusk, an' I saw some men git out. I didn't pay noattention to them, 'cause I was busy about the mil
kin'. The next Iknowed I seen some one strikin' matches in my wagon shed, an' I comeout to see what it was."
"The men must have brought me all the way from the church shed nearCentreford to here," declared Tom. "Then they lifted me out and putme in your shed. Maybe they left my motor-cycle also."
"I didn't see nothin' like that," said the farmer. "Is that what youcall one of them two-wheeled lickity-split things that a man sits onthe middle of an' goes like chain-lightning?"
"It is," said Tom. "I wish you'd help me look for it."
The farmer and his son agreed, and other lanterns having beensecured, a search was made. After about half an hour the motor-cyclewas discovered in some bushes at the side of the road, near wherethe automobile had stopped. But the model was missing from it, and acareful search near where the machine had been hidden did not revealit. Nor did as careful a hunt as they could make in the darknessdisclose any clues to the scoundrels who had drugged and robbed Tom.