CHAPTER VIII
A THIEF IN THE NIGHT
Tom Swift hardly knew what to think. He had scarcely believed, inspite of the fact that he was sure Andy had a copy of the map, thatthe bully would actually make an effort to go to the valley of gold.
"And in that airship of his, too," mused Tom. "Well, there's oneconsolation, I don't believe he'll go far in that, though it doessail better than when he made his first attempt. Well, if he's goingto try to beat us, it's a good thing I know it. We can be preparedfor him, now."
Tom, after watching the big vans for a few minutes, turned and kepton toward his home.
There was more than surprise on the part of Mr. Damon and the otherswhen Tom told his news. There was alarm, for there was a feelingthat Mr. Foger and his son might adopt unscrupulous tricks.
"But what can we do?" asked Mr. Swift.
"Whitewash him!" exclaimed Eradicate Sampson, who had overheard partof 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 thecolored man's favorite method of dealing with enemies, but, ofcourse, he could not always carry it out.
However, after considering the matter from all sides, it was decidedthat nothing could be done for the present.
"Let them go," said Tom, "I don't believe they'll ever find thevalley of gold. I fancy I threw a scare into Andy, talking as I didabout the map."
"Well, even if the Fogers do get the gold," said Mr. Parker calmly,"they cannot take away the caves of ice, and it is in them that I ammost interested. I want to prove some of my new theories."
"And we need the gold," said Tom, in a low voice; "don't we, Abe?"
"That's what we do, Tom," answered the old miner.
Preparations were now practically completed for their trip toSeattle by rail. Tom made some inquiries in the next few daysregarding the Fogers, but only learned that the father and son hadleft town, after superintending the shipment of their airship.
"Well, we start to-day," remarked Tom, as he arose one morning. "Intwo weeks, at most, we ought to be hovering over the valley, Abe."
"I hope so, Tom. You've got the map put away safely, have you?"
"Sure thing. Are you all ready?"
"Yes."
"Then we'll start for the depot right after breakfast." Theadventurers had arranged to take a local train from Shopton, and geton a fast express at one of the more important stations.
Good-byes were said, Mr. Swift, Mr. Jackson, Mrs. Baggert andEradicate waving their adieus from the porch as Tom and the othersstarted for the depot. Miss Mary Nestor had bidden our hero farewellthe previous night--it being a sort of second good-bye, for Tom wasa frequent caller at her house, and, if the truth must be told herather disliked to leave the young lady.
Tom found a few of his friends at the station, who had gatheredthere to give him and Ned BON-VOYAGE.
"Bring us back some nuggets, Tom," pleaded Arthur Norton.
"Bring me a musk-ox if you can shoot one," suggested one.
"A live bear or a trained Eskimo for mine," exclaimed another.
Tom laughingly promised to do the best he could.
"I'll send you some gold nuggets by wireless," said Ned Newton.
It was almost time for the train to arrive. In the crowd on theplatform Tom noticed Pete Bailey.
"He must feel lost without Andy," observed the young inventor toNed.
"Yes, I wonder what he's hanging around here for?"
They learned a moment later, for they saw Pete going into thetelegraph office.
"Must be something important for him to wire about," observed Ned.
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 thetelegraph instrument, as the operator sent Pete's message. Tom wasfamiliar with the Morse code. What was his surprise to hear themessage being sent to Andy Foger at a certain hotel in Chicago. Andthe message read:
"Tom Swift's party leaving to-day."
"What in the world does that mean?" thought Tom, but he did not tellNed what he had picked up as it went over the wire. "Why should Andywant to be informed when we leave? That's why Pete was hangingaround here! He had been instructed to let Andy know when we leftfor Seattle. There's something queer back of all this."
Tom was still puzzling over the matter when their train roiled inand he and the others got aboard.
"Well, we're off!" cried Ned.
"Yes; we're off," admitted Tom, and, to himself he added: "Notelling what will happen before we get there, though."
The trip to Chicago was without incident, and, on arrival in theWindy City, Tom was on the lookout for Andy or his father, but hedid not see them. He made private inquiries at the hotel mentionedin Pete's telegram, but learned that the Fogers had gone on.
"Perhaps I'm worrying too much," thought Tom. But an event thatoccurred a few nights later, when they were speeding across thecontinent showed him that there was need of great precaution.
On leaving Chicago, Tom had noticed, among the other passengerstraveling in the same coach as themselves, a man who seemed to beclosely observing each member of the party of gold-hunters. He was aman with a black mustache, a mustache so black, in fact, that Tom atonce concluded that it had been dyed. This, in itself, was not much,but there was a certain air about the man--a "sporty" air--whichmade Tom suspicious.
"I wouldn't be surprised if that man was a gambler, Ned," he said tohis chum, one afternoon, as they were speeding along. The man inquestion was several seats away from Tom.
"He does look like one," agreed Ned.
"I needn't advise you not to fall in with any of his invitations toplay cards, I suppose," went on Tom, after a pause.
"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, forAbe has traveled around in the West considerable."
"We'll ask him," agreed Tom, but the miner, when his attention wascalled to the man, said he had never seen him before.
"He does look like a confidence man," agreed Abe, "but as long as hedoesn't approach us we can't do anything, and don't need to worry."
There was little need to call the attention of either Mr. Damon orMr. Parker to the man, for Mr. Damon was busy watching the scenery,as this trip was a new one to him, and he was continually blessingsomething he saw or thought of. As for Mr. Parker, he was puzzlingover some new theories he had in mind, and he said little to theothers.
On the night of the same day on which Tom had called specialattention to the man with the black mustache, our hero went to hisberth rather late. He had sent some telegrams to his father and oneto Miss Nestor, and, when he turned in he saw the "gambler," as hehad come to call him, going into the smoking compartment of thecoach. Though Tom thought of the man as a gambler, there was noevidence, as yet, that he was one, and he had made no effort toapproach any of our friends, though he had observed them closely.
How long Tom had been asleep he did not know, but he was suddenlyawakened by feeling his pillow move. At first he thought it wascaused by the swaying of the train, and he was about to go to sleepagain, when there came a movement that he knew could not have beencaused by any unevenness of the roadbed.
Then, like a flash there came to Tom's mind the thought that underhis pillow, in a little leather case he had made for it, was themap, showing the location of the valley of gold.
He sat up suddenly, and made a lunge for the pillow. He felt a handbeing hurriedly withdrawn. Tom made a grab for it, but the fingersslipped from his grasp.
"Here! Who are you!" cried Tom, endeavoring to peer through thedarkness.
"It's all right--mistake," murmured a voice.
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 gleamof it the young inv
entor caught sight of a man hurrying away, and hefelt sure the fellow who had put his hand under his pillow was theman with the black mustache. He confirmed this suspicion a momentlater, for the man half turned, as if to look back, and the youthsaw the mustache.
"He--he was after my map!" thought Tom, with a gasp.
He sat bolt upright. What should he do? To raise an alarm now, hefelt, 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 statingwhat was under his pillow.
He felt for the map case, opened it and saw, in the gleam of thelight, that it was safe.
"He didn't get it anyhow," murmured our hero. "I guess I won't sayanything until morning, though he did come like a thief in the nightto see if he could steal it."
Tom glanced to where his coat and other clothing hung in the littleberth-hammock, and a hasty search showed that his money and ticketwere safe.
"It was the map he was after all right," mused Tom. "I'll have atalk with Mr. Damon in the morning about what's best to do. That'swhy the fellow has been keeping such a close watch on us. He wantedto see who had the map."
Then another thought came to Tom.
"If it was the map he was after," he whispered to himself, "he mustknow what it's about. Therefore the Fogers must have told him. I'llwager Andy or his father put this man up to steal the map. Andy'safraid he hasn't got a copy of the right one. This is getting moreand more mysterious! We must be on our guard all the while. Well,I'll see what I'll do in the morning."
But in the morning the man with the black mustache was not aboardthe train, and on inquiring of the conductor, Tom learned that themysterious stranger had gotten off at a way station shortly aftermidnight.