Chapter 18 Tom Swift and His Talking Pictures by Victor Appleton
AN ANONYMOUS ADVERTISEMENT
“Well, they didn’t blow us up,” remarked Ned Newton to his chum the following morning after having awakened in the Swift home, having occupied the room next to his friend during the night.
“No, and I suppose we can be thankful for that,” agreed Tom. “But they might just as well have had a bomb under my bed for all the rest I got.”
“Didn’t you sleep well?” Ned wanted to know, though a look at his friend’s face was enough to tell the story. Tom’s eyes had dark half circles under them and it was plain that he had not rested enough.
“Hardly any,” was the answer. “This thing is getting on my nerves, Ned. I’ve got to do something!” and the voice was a bit irritable.
“Seems to me you’ve done a lot, Tom.”
“In what way?”
“Well, you’ve invented one of the most wonderful machines in the world—one that will make it possible for a man not only to sit at home in a comfortable chair and listen to the best music that’s played, but he can, by a turn of a switch, see theatrical plays. And, not only have you done that, but you’ve called the turn on the scoundrels who tried to stop you half way.”
“I haven’t quite called the turn, as you call it, Ned. There is still a lot to do to uncover the acts of those fellows. One of the first things I want to do is to find out how they got in and did their work so secretly. They must have had help from inside,” added Tom.
His first step was to set Ned at work on financial matters, to ascertain just how much longer the Swift Construction Company could operate without going to the wall. Its credit was excellent, which was a great deal in its favor. And Tom hoped soon to have his talking pictures in shape to offer some of the machines for sale, or at least to sell stock in a company that might market them to the retail trade. In this way he would be assured soon of a large amount of ready cash. He knew several firms who would be willing to underwrite an issue of bonds, once he could demonstrate that his machine was a success.
Having attended to these money matters, which were always more or less of a bore to Tom, the young inventor turned his attention to matters of more interest to him. One was to see that the delicate mechanism of his invention had not been disturbed during the night, and the other was to make a more careful examination with a view to finding out how his plant had been mined by the conspirators.
Koku and Eradicate had both slept in the private laboratory, and on Tom’s entrance they reported that nothing unusual had occurred during the night. It was the fear that, after all, something untoward might take place that had prompted Ned to spend the night with his chum.
“So far so good!” mused Tom, after he had made sure his invention was in working order. “Now for a look around the grounds.”
He soon saw what had been apparent at the casual inspection the night before, namely, that the plotters had tunneled under the fence in order to plant their bombs. Doubtless, they had found out to their sorrow that the wires on top of the barrier carried a disabling current of electricity.
And it was in that way that the gang had gained entrance to the grounds. They had worked in secret, by night it was likely, and had thus been able to plant several dangerous bombs and run wires attached to them outside the fence and into the little gully mentioned before. All that was needed was the exploding spark and the Swift plant would have been a mass of ruins.
The bombs had been carefully taken up and soaked in water. They were then—and this work was only now finished—dissected in an effort to learn some clue as to the constructors. But the work had been cunningly done. Tom suspected that the gang had hired some band of anarchists to make the bombs for them, probably keeping the makers in ignorance of what the deadly machines were to be used for.
Once the bombs were removed, the connecting wires pulled up and all traces of the work removed, Tom had some of his men arrange matters so that a recurrence of the danger was impossible. At intervals along the fence metal rods were driven into the earth and so arranged, by means of electric wires, that any disturbance of the earth near them would be registered on dials in the central watch tower.
“That will keep them out, or at least give warning of their attempts,” said Tom.
In truth, as the fence was still guarded on top by the powerful current and now was protected from beneath, there was little likelihood that any plotters could get in. Double guards were posted night and day at all entrance gates and not until then did Tom Swift feel secure.
He then set to work with redoubled energy to put the finishing touches to his newest patent and felt sure he had solved the one remaining problem—that of making visible all colors on his screen. This he accomplished by filters of glass, something after the manner in which colored moving pictures are taken, but using a process of his own that he had only recently discovered.
Though Tom was kept busy putting the finishing touches to his machine, he was not freed from trouble. Every now and then he would get a report from some of his many shops that the place had been entered and things turned upside down, evidently in a search for some of the young inventor’s secrets.
“Why don’t they lay off and let me alone?” exclaimed Tom angrily one morning after some particularly annoying damage had been done in his airship shop the night before. “What’s their game, anyhow?”
“To make you give up, I guess,” answered Ned. “They can’t get at your talking-picture machine, you’ve got that too well guarded. But to guard the rest of the plant you’d have to keep a full force here day and night, and that’s out of the question with our bank balance as low as it is.”
“I realize that, Ned. Yet I’ve got to do something desperate. It may take some money, too.”
“Oh, we aren’t down to our last dollar, when it comes to that,” Ned replied. “But it would be ruinous to be paying a night force as well as a day force, particularly when the former would only be used as guards.”
“I’m not going to do that,” declared Tom. “It’s time, I think, to put into operation my other scheme—the one I had in mind the night we discovered the bombs.”
“What plan is that, Tom?”
“It’s an anonymous advertisement in the papers, making certain offers and proposing certain terms to my enemies. Here, I’ll show you what I mean.”
Tom thought for a few moments with pencil poised over a pad. Then he wrote rapidly and handed the sheet of paper to Ned. This is what his chum read:
RAPID young man, who is being held back in his work by threats and annoying, sneaking night attacks, will pay any reasonable sum just to be let alone so that he may proceed with his inventions. He wants to be swift in completing his work and it can easily be pictured how this talk about making trouble annoys him. A large sum will be paid for freedom from future annoyance. Answer in confidence, QUICK, Box 123 Evening Graphic Office.
“Do you intend to insert this advertisement in the Graphic?” asked Ned, naming the Shopton evening paper.
“That’s what I do. Don’t you think they will understand it even without my name being to it?”
“I should think the scoundrels might,” chuckled Ned. “You have as good as told them by the use of the words rapid, swift and quick, to say nothing of mentioning your talking-picture machine. Do you think that is wise?”
“Oh, they know I’m working on it,” said Tom. “It’s no use to pretend they don’t. The secret is out, but I don’t care. I’ve got the patent rights sewed up now. But I must be let alone in order to finish the last details. Take that ad in, Ned.”
“I will. I hope it brings results.”
“I think it will,” said Tom, with a significant smile. “It’s bait for a trap, and there will be some surprises when it springs shut!”