Chapter 9 Tom Swift and His Talking Pictures by Victor Appleton
ON THE ISLAND
Not one to submit tamely to indignities, Tom Swift, instead of complying with the command, struggled to his feet and advanced toward the two rough men standing in the bow of the boat. The third member was at the wheel and, Tom noticed, was heading the boat out toward the wider part of the lake.
“Look here!” said Tom boldly, for his nerve, somewhat shaken by his sudden plunge into the water, was coming back to him. “What’s your game, anyhow? What do you mean by keeping Mr. Newton and me on this boat? I demand that you set us ashore at once!”
“Oh, you do, eh?” chuckled one of the men.
“Yes, I do! And if you do it within a reasonable time I may overlook what you’ve done. But if you don’t at once release us I’ll cause your arrest, and it will go hard with you!”
“Listen to him!” sneered one of the scoundrels. “You’d think he was chief of police or something like that!”
“Ha! Ha!” chuckled another. “We’ve got Tom Swift right where we want him this time. No mistake now!”
Tom was beginning to understand some things in connection with the kidnapping—things hitherto a mystery to him. He looked at the men. They were burly, brutal fellows and Tom knew that even if Ned were free to help him, they would not be able to fight these fellows. Perhaps subterfuge and craft were better than a show of force. Tom decided on other tactics.
“Look here!” he said again. “I don’t know what your game is, but you’re bound to lose out in the end. My friends will soon rescue us and you’ll be jailed for this. Kidnapping is a serious offense.”
“We took one chance and we got the wrong man,” said one of the fellows, thus confirming Tom’s new suspicions. “Now we have the right one—that’s you—and we’re going to hold on to you. We don’t worry none about getting jailed.”
“We’ve rich friends that’ll soon get us out,” said the man at the wheel.
“Shut up, Torpy!” commanded one of the two in the bow. “Close your trap! You talk too much!”
“Aw, you make me tired!” complained the one addressed as Torpy.
“You can’t bluff us, Tom Swift!” went on the largest of the three scoundrels. “We got you dead to rights now and you’ll tell us what we want to know before we let you go.”
“Oh, so you’re after information, are you?” asked Tom, hoping to draw the men out.
“Yes, we are.”
“What kind?” Tom inquired, trying to wring some of the water out of his coat.
“You’ll find out soon enough when we get to the island.”
“What island?” the young inventor wanted to know.
“You ask too many questions. You’re as bad as Torpy—you talk too much!” complained one of the two in the bow.
Tom glanced down at Ned and, guessing how his friend must be suffering, bound and gagged as he was, decided on a new plan.
“All right,” he seemed to agree, “I’ll stop asking questions. But as long as you’ve got me safe, as you seem to have, there’s no object in keeping my chum trussed up as he is. Why don’t you loosen him and take that rag out of his mouth? Be decent, can’t you?”
“We might as well let up on him a bit,” said the big man. “As he says, we got him now and the other can’t do any harm if he does yell. We’re out of the way now—soon be at the island.”
“Sure,” assented his companion, and they at once loosened Ned’s ropes and removed the gag, for which relief he was very grateful.
“What happened, old man?” asked Tom in a low voice, as he sat down on the bottom of the boat beside his now unbound chum. “We’ve been all upset over you.”
“I’ve been a bit upset myself,” admitted Ned, whose tongue was thick from the effects of the gag. “But, in brief, I was set upon that night after I left your laboratory, a cloth was thrown over my head at a dark corner, not far from your place, and, before I knew what was happening, I was gagged, bound, and bundled into an auto. I was taken some distance and brought to that old farmhouse. The men hustled me out of there a little while ago, and after a wild ride put me in this boat. You know the rest.”
“Have you been kept in the old Smith place ever since you were kidnapped up until a little while ago?” asked Tom.
“Yes, they held me a prisoner there. But it didn’t take them long to find out I was the wrong man. They mistook me for you, and thought they were kidnapping the great inventor.”
“I had begun to suspect that,” said Tom. “Well, what happened?”
“Oh, they were pretty much upset when they learned who I was,” chuckled Ned. “They asked me a lot of questions about your inventions, and wanted to know how the new talking-picture projector worked. But of course I was as mum as an oyster.”
“Did they ask specifically about my new patent?” asked Tom, somewhat excited by this news.
“That’s what they did.”
“How did they know about it? I supposed that was a dead secret from all but you, dad and me.”
“So did I,” responded Ned. “But there must be a leak somewhere around your shop. Perhaps a spy.”
“I believe there is!” exclaimed Tom.
“I tried to escape, but I couldn’t,” said Ned. “Even though they found out I was the wrong man, they still held me. I was kept in an upper room with barred windows. Then, when they brought me food in paper bags, I thought of the kite idea. I sent out half a dozen, but I guess they didn’t blow far. I wrote messages to you, hoping some one would pick them up and take them to you. But I began to think nothing would come of it until one day a kite that I’d made went high up in the air and I knew it would travel a long way.”
“It did,” said Tom. “All the way to Cherry Valley where a tramp picked it up and brought it to me. That was yesterday, and I came as soon as I could.”
“I thought you would,” Ned responded. “But when, a little while ago, they bundled me up again and took me away, I thought it was all up with me. They must have had some warning you were on their trail, they got off in such a hurry.”
“I think the same man who tried to blow me up gave the warning,” stated Tom.
“Tried to blow you up!” gasped Ned. “What do you mean?”
Tom told of the explosion and fire, relating the sad tale of the wrecking of the talking-picture machine, but in words that would mean nothing to the three men even if they should hear. But they did not appear to be listening.
“Whew!” exclaimed Ned. “You were as badly off as I was!”
“Pretty near,” agreed Tom. “We couldn’t imagine what had become of you. Your folks were worried, but I sent word to them about your kite message and that relieved their minds.”
“Did you start to swim after me?” asked Ned, with a smile, noting Tom’s wet clothes.
“Swim? No. Oh, I see what you mean! You couldn’t see what happened because you were down on the bottom here. Well, I was chasing these fellows in a motorboat I’d hired, with Mr. Damon, Koku and the tramp that picked up your kite. We hit a rock and I went overboard. Then they hauled me in, for my boat slued off and I guess headed back for her own dock.”
“Tough luck!” murmured Ned. “Well, what’s the next item on the bill, I wonder?”
They were not left long in doubt. A few minutes later the speed of the boat began to slacken and, looking ahead, Tom and Ned saw that the craft was approaching a large island. It was known to the young men as a rendezvous for criminals and other unsavory characters. Tom had not visited Rattlesnake Island, as it was called, for a number of years, nor had his chum.
“Are you going to land us there?” Tom demanded, as he saw that the boat was heading for a dilapidated dock.
“You said it!” chuckled one of the men who, Ned said, was named Snogg. The other, and larger, was addressed as Janner. Those two, with Torpy, comprised the kidnapping gang.
“If you leave us here, will you be decent enough to send some one to take us off after you get away?” asked Tom.
“Don’t worry—we’re not going away!” sneered Janner. “We’ll be right with you all the while, boys!”
It was plain, then, that Tom and Ned were to be held captive on the island with the three unscrupulous men as guards.
“Now you can walk along quiet if you choose, or, if you want to kick up a fuss, we’ll bind, gag and carry you,” said Snogg, when the boat was made fast to the dock. “Which’ll it be?”
“Since we can’t help ourselves,” replied Tom bitterly, “we’ll go quietly. But we won’t submit to any indignities!”
“You won’t be any worse treated than you have been,” said Janner. “And if you come across and answer my questions you’ll get home all the sooner. It’s up to you.”
To this Tom Swift made no answer and a little later he and Ned were led toward a rough, two-story house, situated near the middle of Rattlesnake Island, and left to themselves, locked in a room.
“Well, this is that!” said Ned as he sank down on a chair near the bed, for there was some furniture in the room. “What do you think they’ll do to us, Tom?”
“Hard to say. I don’t quite fathom their game, unless it’s to make me give up the secret of——”
He did not finish, but Ned knew what was meant.
“I hope they feed us, anyhow,” sighed Tom’s manager. “They gave me pretty decent food back in the farmhouse, but I haven’t had any breakfast, and I need it.”
After this there was silence. A few minutes later the door was unlocked and Torpy came in with two trays of fairly good food.
“The boss says you’re to eat and then he’ll be up and question you,” the man reported.
“He won’t get much out of me,” snapped Tom.
“Nor me!” added Ned.
“You’d better not r’ile the boss,” was Torpy’s advice as he put the trays down on a chair.
Ned was very hungry, and Tom Swift, in spite of his rage, anxiety, and his recent ducking, was also beginning to feel an appetite. So the young men ate and then, casually, Tom began strolling around the room seeking a possible chance to escape. To his disappointment the apartment was more solid than it looked. The door was heavy and securely locked and the window covered with a heavy wire screen and iron bars. Evidently the room had been used before as a prison.
But Tom Swift did not give up very easily, and now he had still several cards to play in the desperate game with the three men. When the food had been satisfactorily disposed of, the door opened again and big Janner came swaggering in.
“Well, I see you had your appetites with you, boys,” he remarked. “And now we’ll get down to business. It’s you I want to talk with, Tom Swift, and not your manager that we took away in a hurry by mistake for you. He don’t know the answers to some of the questions I’m going to ask.”
“Maybe I don’t, either,” observed Tom.
“Oh, yes you do!” was the quick retort. “And you’ll tell me, too, or I’ll find a way to make you!” The man’s voice was an ugly snarl now.
“We’ll see,” was all Tom said.
Then began a rapid series of questions concerning some of Tom’s recent inventions, including his Air Monarch in which he had circled the globe. As this machine had lately been turned over to the Government for use in the Air Service, there was no secret about it, and Tom had no hesitation in telling things concerning it. He thought it might put Janner in a better humor.
From the Air Monarch, the man switched to other machines about which greater secrecy was desirable, and Tom refused to answer inquiries, though his refusals did not appear to anger Janner much.
“How’s your photo telephone doing these days?” the man suddenly inquired.
“That? Why, most people know all there’s to be known about that. It’s an old invention of mine,” said Tom.
“Is it? But I understand you’re using something like it now to make pictures appear inside a radio machine!” Janner suddenly shot at Tom.
At once the young inventor saw the drift of the inquiries. There had been some leak in connection with his recent work on the talking-picture machine, and these men, or this man, knew about it. Tom did some quick thinking just then.
“I haven’t any machine that will make pictures appear in a radio receiver,” Tom said calmly.
This was true enough. The fire and blast had destroyed the best part of the new invention, though Tom had plans for rebuilding and perfecting it.
“Oh, you haven’t got such a machine, eh?” sneered Janner. “Well, I know you have. We’re not going to let you spoil our business.”
“What business is that?” asked Tom.
“Never you mind. We’re not going to let you make a machine that will permit folks to sit at home and see and hear a show without paying the admission price. Not in a thousand years!”
In a flash Tom knew now who were at the bottom of the plot against him. Powerful moving picture and theater interests would not want to see such an invention as Tom Swift planned put on the market. It would bring ruin to many of them.
“You’ve got such a machine, or you’ll soon have one, and I know it!” stormed Janner. Tom knew, then, that he had been spied upon. “And I’m going to make you tell all about it and promise to drop it!” fairly shouted Janner.
“You’ve got a big contract on your hands,” stated Tom calmly. “I’ll tell you nothing and there isn’t a man or a company living that can make me drop anything I undertake until I’m ready to let go of it!”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Yes, that’s so!”
“Well, I guess we can find ways and means to make you!” said Janner in a snarling voice as he advanced toward Tom Swift.