Chapter 23 Tom Swift and His Airline Express by Victor Appleton
ANOTHER CAPTURE
Tom Swift could not understand this attitude on the part of Kenny. The fellow had been one of the four (including the two mysterious masked men) who had captured Tom in the tunnel and had held him a prisoner on the island in the lake. Kenny had seemed as relentless and vicious as any of the four who were intent on getting away from Tom his patent on the airline express.
Now, after an easy capture, Kenny had broken down—given up—and professed to be sorry. It did not seem natural. No wonder Tom and Ned were on their guard.
“What were you doing back there at the plane, if that’s where you were?” demanded Tom, while Ned held the prisoner fast.
“Yes, I was near your plane, but I didn’t do any damage—I—I just couldn’t,” Kenny faltered.
“Were you going to do any damage?” Tom inquired sternly.
“I was—if I could—yes,” was the reply. “They wanted me to blow it up or damage it in some way, so you couldn’t make the return trip. But I hadn’t the heart to do it—I just couldn’t bring myself to it, Mr. Swift—I just couldn’t.”
“Who do you mean wanted you to blow up my machine?” asked the young inventor. “Was it Schlump and those two masked men? Who are they, anyhow?”
“Yes, it was them. But I can’t tell you who those other two are,” was the reply. “It would mean death to me if I squealed. But I’m through. Do what you like with me, only don’t let those fellows get hold of me. I’m done for if you do.”
“How do you know but what you aren’t done for now?” asked Ned grimly. “We’ve got you fast, and your confession is enough to send you to jail. Kidnapping is a serious crime, you know.”
“I don’t mind going to jail,” whimpered Kenny. “That would be better than being killed—never knowing when the blow was going to fall. If I’m in jail they can’t get me. And they’ll try to, for they’ll soon know I didn’t carry out my end of the bargain.”
“Well, you’re going to jail all right!” declared Tom. “It may be the best and safest place for you, and I surely will feel better when you’re behind bars. But what’s the game, anyhow? Why should Schlump and those two masked men want to do me harm?”
“I can’t tell you,” Kenny faltered. “I have betrayed them enough as it is, and I’m not going to say any more. I give up—that’s enough for you—and I warn you to look out. Now all I want is protection from them. Have me locked up; I deserve it.”
This Tom and Ned had decided at once to do. But they were still suspicious over Kenny’s sudden breakdown after his capture. That might be a plot to throw them off the track, to enable the other plotters to get in their work. Tom resolved to be on his guard.
Koku and some of the others in the plane car had come out on hearing voices, and in a few words the young inventor explained what had happened.
“I keep him,” said Koku significantly, as he took hold of Kenny.
“Don’t let him kill me!” pleaded the prisoner.
“He won’t hurt you—that is, if you don’t try to get away,” said Tom grimly.
“I’m not going to. I’m through, I tell you. Why, if I had wanted to I could have blown you to pieces half an hour ago. Go over there and look!” he exclaimed, pointing to a spot near some empty boxes and cases, that had contained materials used in preparing the landing field.
“Take a look, Ned,” suggested Tom, handing his chum the flashlight.
In a few minutes Ned came back bearing an object, at the sight of which some of the workmen cried:
“It’s a bomb! Look out!”
“The firing apparatus has been taken out—here it is,” said Kenny, and he took something from his pocket. “It can’t go off the way it is,” he added.
A quick inspection on the part of Tom proved the truth of this. A bomb had been concealed in the rubbish, and, had it gone off, it very likely would have wrecked the Osprey, and, possibly, have injured or killed those in the car.
“But I couldn’t do it,” confessed Kenny. “I had it all ready to plant and was going to set the time fuse when I weakened.”
“Why did you do that?” asked Tom, still suspicious.
“To tell you the truth, it was because I couldn’t bear to wreck such a fine machine as you have made,” Kenny admitted, and there was a bit of pride in his voice and look. “I’m a good mechanic,” he went on. “You found that out in the shop before I was discharged, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, you were an expert in your line,” admitted Tom.
“Well, I got in bad company—maybe that’s how you can account for it,” proceeded Kenny. “I’m not defending myself—but I got in wrong and bad. You did right to fire me—but then I wanted my revenge. I was in the crowd that saw you come down to-day,” he told Tom. “The gang sent me on here to finish the job which they couldn’t do in Shopton because you were too well guarded. They figured it would be easier here, and it was. I didn’t have much trouble hiding that bomb.
“But when I saw you come sailing in and knew you had almost done the journey as you said you’d do it—in sixteen hours—I just didn’t have the heart to destroy the machine. It would be like a man running his pet auto into a stone wall deliberately. I didn’t have the heart. You needn’t believe me, but that’s the truth.”
“I do believe you—in that, at least,” Tom said. Being a mechanic himself he could understand another workman’s love for a wonderful piece of machinery. “But that doesn’t let you out, Kenny,” said Tom sternly.
“I know it doesn’t, Mr. Swift. I’m not asking to be let off. I’m better in jail as it is. I don’t want those fellows to get me, for they’ll know I double-crossed ’em. Lock me up—that’s all I ask. I’m down and out!”
He really seemed so, and was as honest as he could be under the circumstances. Strange as it may appear, his love for machinery in the abstract, his delight in a perfect piece of work, had overcome his promise to his confederates. Tom believed this much of his story.
The police were notified and Kenny was taken to jail, on the technical charge, in lieu of another, of unlawfully possessing explosives. For the time fuse found on him contained a charge heavy enough in itself to have done considerable damage.
“Well, that’s one out of the way,” commented Tom to Ned after Kenny had been taken off.
“Yes. But there are three left, according to his talk, and maybe more,” said the manager. “What are you going to do about them?”
“I’m going to carry on—fly back to New York Tuesday,” was the answer. “But at the same time I’ll be on the watch. It is hardly possible that any more of the gang are out here. They depended on Kenny, and he double-crossed them, to our advantage. And they won’t have time to start anything at Denver or Chicago—they can’t get there in time. They’ll know, of course, by watching the papers, that nothing happened to us here. They can argue either that Kenny failed or threw them down—it doesn’t matter which they decide on. But their next move will be made at the Long Island field—if they move at all.”
And, thinking it over, Ned came to the same conclusion.
Accordingly preparations were made for the return trip of the Osprey to Denver where the Eagle would pick up the car and carry it to Chicago.
There were enthusiastic scenes as Tom hopped off early Tuesday morning, when it was hardly daylight. He had sent a message the night before to Mary and his father, telling them of the start.
Tom’s trip back to the East was even more successful than his trip out, and he made better flying time by the hour, for no storm was encountered. The same wild scenes of greeting when he landed in Denver and Chicago were witnessed again, and word of his progress was flashed by wireless and telegraph as he passed over city after city on his way home.
In due time he reached the landing field in Long Island and received a roaring welcome. The first round trip had been made successfully, and but five more remained to be made before the rich Mr. Jacks would put in enough money to insure the financial success of the new enterprise. And once it became known that Jacks had invested others would do the same, Tom reasoned.
So it was with a feeling of pride and satisfaction that Tom went back to Shopton to tell his father and Mary all the details. He decided to let a week elapse before trying another journey, as there were some mechanical changes he wanted to make in the car.
Then came the second round trip, the time being cut down a little, but not enough to satisfy Tom.
On the third one he was so long delayed by a storm that his time was a half hour more than on his first trip west. However, he was still within the daylight stipulation, and Mr. Jacks announced himself satisfied thus far.
“Three more round trips, and I’ll come in on a big scale,” said the old millionaire. “It begins to look feasible, Tom Swift.”
“It is feasible, Mr. Jacks,” was the answer. “You’ll see!”
However, the millionaire came very near not “seeing,” for the night before the sixth round trip was to start something ominous happened out at the Long Island hangar.
Tom and his friends had gone to a hotel there, to be in readiness for an early morning start. The young inventor had inspected the machinery and found everything in perfect order. Koku and Eradicate had been left on guard, their differences for a time being patched up. Each one was proud of his part in the night’s work.
It was shortly after midnight when Eradicate, carefully marching around his end of the plane, thought he detected a movement in the bushes. The old man’s eyesight was none of the best, much as he disliked to admit this, but he decided he would do better to summon Koku, which he did.
“Maybe dere’s somebody ober dere, big man,” whispered Eradicate, pointing.
The giant was like a cat—he could see in the dark. For a moment he bent his gaze on the bush indicated by the colored man. Then with a roar of anger the big fellow rushed forward, jumped into the shrubbery and came out, dragging after him a struggling man.
“Let me go! Let me go!” cried this individual. He tried to get something out of his pocket, but Koku held his hand until other watchmen came with lights, and then it was seen that the prisoner was Schlump. An ugly sight he was, too, his face inflamed with rage. Koku pulled his hand from the pocket and found that Schlump was clutching a deadly bomb with a time fuse which shortly would have set it off. But some of the mechanics soon rendered the infernal machine harmless, and Schlump was taken before Tom.
“So, we’ve caught you, have we?” asked the young inventor.
“So it seems!” Schlump snarled. “But you’d better try to save yourself! The others are still after you! I’m not the only one! And you haven’t got me yet—not quite!”
With an unexpected and quick motion he broke away from Koku and ran off in the darkness.