Chapter Three
The Plans Disappear
Mr. Swift was lying on the floor, where he had fallen, in front of hisbed, as he was preparing to retire. There was no mark of injury uponhim, and at first, as he knelt down at his father's side, Tom was at aloss to account for what had taken place.
"How did it happen? When was it?" he asked of Mrs. Baggert, as he heldup his father's head, and noted that the aged man was breathingslightly.
"I don't know what happened, Tom," answered the housekeeper, "but Iheard him fall, and ran upstairs, only to find him lying there, justlike that. Then I called you. Hadn't you better have a doctor?"
"Yes; we'll need one at once. Send Eradicate. Tell him to run--not towait for his mule--Boomerang is too slow. Oh, no! The telephone, ofcourse! Why didn't I think of that at first? Please telephone for Dr.Gladby, Mrs. Baggert. Ask him to come as soon as possible, and thentell Garret Jackson to step here. I'll have him help me get father intobed."
The housekeeper hastened to the instrument, and was soon incommunication with the physician, who promised to call at once. Theengineer was summoned from another part of the house, and thenEradicate was aroused.
Mrs. Baggert had the colored man help her get some kettles of hot waterin readiness for possible use by the doctor. Mr. Jackson aided Tom tolift Mr. Swift up on the bed, and they got off some of his clothes.
"I'll try to see if I can revive him with a little aromatic spirits ofammonia," decided Tom, as he noticed that his father was stillunconscious. He hastened to prepare the strong spirits, while he wasconscious of a feeling of fear and alarm, mingled with sadness.
Suppose his father should die? Tom could not bear to think of that. Hewould be left all alone, and how much he would miss the companionshipand comradeship of his father none but himself knew.
"Oh! but I mustn't think he's going to die!" exclaimed the youth, as hemixed the medicine.
Mr. Swift feebly opened his eyes after Tom and Mr. Jackson hadsucceeded in forcing some of the ammonia between his lips.
"Where am I? What happened?" asked the aged inventor faintly.
"We don't know, exactly," spoke Tom softly. "You are ill, father. I'vesent for the doctor. He'll fix you up. He'll be here soon."
"Yes, I'm--I'm ill," murmured the aged man. "Something hurts me--here,"and he put his hand over his heart.
Tom felt a nameless sense of fear. He wished now that he had insistedon his parent consulting a physician some time before, when Mr. Swiftfirst complained of a minor ailment. Perhaps now it was too late.
"Oh! when will that doctor come?" murmured Tom impatiently.
Mrs. Baggert, who was nervously going in and out of the room, againwent to the telephone.
"He's on his way," the housekeeper reported. "His wife said he juststarted out in his auto."
Dr. Gladby hurried into the room a little later, and cast a quick lookat Mr. Swift, who had again lapsed into unconsciousness.
"Do you think he--think he's going to die?" faltered Tom. He was nolonger the self-reliant young inventor. He could meet danger bravelywhen it threatened himself alone, but when his father was stricken heseemed to lose all courage.
"Die? Nonsense!" exclaimed the doctor heartily. "He's not dead yet, atall events, and while there's life there's hope. I'll soon have him outof this spell."
It was some little time, however, before Mr. Swift again opened hiseyes, but he seemed to gain strength from the remedies which Dr. Gladbyadministered, and in about an hour the inventor could sit up.
"But you must be careful," cautioned the physician. "Don't overdoyourself. I'll be in again in the morning, and now I'll leave you somemedicine, to be taken every two hours."
"Oh, I feel much better," said Mr. Swift, and his voice certainlyseemed stronger. "I can't imagine what happened. I came upstairs, afterTom had received a visit from the minister, and that's all I remember."
"The minister, father!" exclaimed Tom, in great amazement. "Theminister wasn't here this evening! That was Mr. Gunmore, the aviationsecretary. Don't you remember?"
"I don't remember any gentleman like that calling here to-night," Mr.Swift said blankly. "It was the minister, I'm sure, Tom."
"The minister was here last night, Mr. Swift," said the housekeeper.
"Was he? Why, it seems like to-night. And I came upstairs after talkingto him, and then it all got black, and--and--"
"There, now; don't try to think," advised the doctor. "You'll be allright in the morning."
"But I can't remember anything about that aviation man," protested Mr.Swift. "I never used to be that way--forgetting things. I don't likeit!"
"Oh, it's just because you're tired," declared the physician. "It willall come back to you in the morning. I'll stop in and see you then. Nowtry to go to sleep." And he left the room.
Tom followed him, Mrs. Baggert and Mr. Jackson remaining with the sickman.
"What is the matter with my father, Dr. Gladby?" asked Tom earnestly,as the doctor prepared to take his departure. "Is it anything serious?"
"Well," began the medical man, "I would not be doing my duty, Tom, if Idid not tell you what it is. That is, it is comparatively serious, butit is curable, and I think we can bring him around. He has an affectionof the heart, that, while it is common enough, is sometimes fatal.
"But I do not think it will be so in your father's case. He has a fineconstitution, and this would never have happened had he not been rundown from overwork. That is the principal trouble. What he needs isrest; and then, with the proper remedies, he will be as well as before."
"But that strange lapse of memory, doctor?"
"Oh, that is nothing. It is due to the fact that he has been using hisbrain too much. The brain protests, and refuses to work until rested.Your father has been working rather hard of late hasn't he?"
"Yes; on a new wireless motor."
"I thought so. Well, a good rest is what he needs, and then his mindand body will be in tune again. I'll be around in the morning."
Tom was somewhat relieved by the doctor's words, but not very much so,and he spent an anxious night, getting up every two hours to administerthe medicine. Toward morning Mr. Swift fell into a heavy sleep, and didnot awaken for some time.
"Oh, you're much better!" declared Dr. Gladby when he saw his patientthat day.
"Yes, I feel better," admitted Mr. Swift.
"And can't you remember about Mr. Gunmore calling?" asked Tom.
The aged inventor shook his head, with a puzzled air.
"I can't remember it at all," he said. "The minister is the last personI remember calling here."
Tom looked worried, but the physician said it was a common feature ofthe disease from which Mr. Swift suffered, and would doubtless passaway.
"And you don't remember how we talked about me building a speedyaeroplane and trying for the ten-thousand-dollar prize?" asked Tom.
"I can't remember a thing about it," said the inventor, with a puzzledshake of his head, "and I'm not going to try, at least not right away.But, Tom, if you're going to build a new aeroplane, I want to help you.I'll give you the benefit of my advice. I think my new form of motorcan be used in it."
"Now! now! No inventions--at least not just yet!" objected thephysician. "You must have a good rest first, Mr. Swift, and get strong.Then you and Tom can build as many airships as you like."
Mr. Swift felt so much better about three days later that he wanted toget right to work planning the airship that was to win the big prize,but the doctor would not hear of it. Tom, however, began to make roughsketches of what he had in mind changing them from time to time. Healso worked on a type of motor, very light, and modeled after one hisfather had recently patented.
Then a new idea came to Tom in regard to the shape of his aeroplane,and he worked several days drawing the plans for it. It was a new ideain construction, and he believed it would give him the great speed hedesired.
"But I'd like dad to see it," he said. "As soon as he's well enoughI'll go over
it with him."
That time came a week later, and with a complete set of the plans,embodying his latest ideas, Tom went into the library where his fatherwas seated in an easy-chair. Dr. Gladby had said it would not now harmthe aged inventor to do a little work. Tom spread the drawings out infront of his father, and began to explain them in detail.
"I really think you have something great there, Tom!" exclaimed Mr.Swift, at length. "It is a very small monoplane, to be sure, but Ithink with the new principle you have introduced it will work; but, ifI were you, I'd shape those wing tips a little differently."
"No, they're better that way," said Tom pleasantly, for he did notoften disagree with his father. "I'll show you from a little model Ihave made. I'll get it right away."
Anxious to demonstrate that he was right in his theory, Tom hurriedfrom the library to get the model of which he had spoken. He left theroll of plans lying on a small table near where his father was seated.
"There, you see, dad," said the young inventor as he re-entered thelibrary a few minutes later, "when you warp the wing tips in making aspiral ascent it throws your tail wings out of plumb, and so--"
Tom paused in some amazement, for Mr. Swift was lying back in hischair, with his eyes closed. The lad started in alarm, laid aside hismodel, and sprang to his father's side.
"He's had another of those heart attacks!" gasped Tom. He was justgoing to call Mrs. Baggert, when Mr. Swift opened his eyes. He lookedat Tom, and the lad could see that they were bright, and did not showany signs of illness.
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed the inventor. "I must have dozed off, Tom,while you were gone. That's what I did. I fell asleep!"
"Oh!" said Tom, much relieved. "I was afraid you were ill again. Now,in this model, as you will see by the plans, it is necessary--"
He paused, and looked over at the table where he had left the drawings.They were not there!
"The plans, father!" Tom exclaimed. "The plans I left on the table!Where are they?"
"I haven't touched them," was the answer. "They were on that table,where you put them, when I closed my eyes for a little nap. I forgotall about them. Are you sure they're missing?"
"They're not here!" And Tom gazed wildly about the room. "Where canthey have gone?"
"I wasn't out of my chair," said Mr. Swift, "I ought not to have goneto sleep, but--"
Tom fairly jumped toward the long library window, the same one fromwhich he had leaped to pursue Andy Foger. The casement was open, andTom noted that the screen was also unhooked. It had been closed when hewent to get the model, he was sure of that.
"Look, dad! See!" he exclaimed, as he picked up from the floor a smallpiece of paper.
"What is it, Tom?"
"A sheet on which I did some figuring. It is no good, but it was inwith the plans. It must have dropped out."
"Do you mean that some one has been in here and taken the plans of yournew aeroplane, Tom?" gasped his father.
"That's just what I mean! They sneaked in here while you were dozing,took the plans, and jumped out of the window with them. On the way thispaper fell out. It's the only clue we have. Stay here, dad. I'm goingto have a look." And Tom jumped from the library window and ran downthe path after the unknown thief.