CHAPTER V
A QUEER STRANGER
What Tom Swift held in his hand looked like a small cannon ball, but itcould not have been solid or the young aviator would not so easily haveheld it out at arm's length for his friend Ned Newton to look at.
"This puts a different face on it, Ned," Tom went on, as he turned theobject over.
"Is that likely to go off?" the bank clerk asked, as he came to a halta little distance from his friend.
"Go off? No, it's done all the damage it could, I guess."
"Damage? It looks to me as though it had suffered the most damageitself. What is it, one of your models? Looks like a bomb to me."
"And that's what it is, Ned."
"Not one of those you're going to use on your aerial warship, is it,Tom?"
"Not exactly. I never saw this before, but it's what started the firein the red shed all right; I'm sure of that."
"Do you really mean it?" cried Ned.
"I sure do."
"Well, if that's the case, I wouldn't leave such dangerous thingsaround where there are explosives, Tom."
"I didn't, Ned. I wouldn't have had this within a hundred miles of myshed, if I could have had my way. It's a fire bomb, and it was set togo off at a certain time. Only I think something went wrong, and thebomb started a fire ahead of time.
"If it had worked at night, when we were all asleep, we might not haveput the fire out so easily. This sure is suspicious! I'm glad you foundthis, Koku."
Tom was carefully examining the bomb, as Ned had correctly named it.The bank clerk, now that he was assured by his chum that the object haddone all the harm it could, approached closer.
What he saw was merely a hollow shell of iron, with a small opening init, as though intended for a place through which to put a charge ofexplosives and a fuse.
"But there was no explosion, Tom," explained Ned.
"I know it," said Tom quietly. "It wasn't an explosive bomb. Smellthat!"
He held the object under Ned's nose so suddenly that the young bankclerk jumped back.
"Oh, don't get nervous," laughed Tom. "It can't hurt you now. But whatdoes that smell like?"
Ned sniffed, sniffed again, thought for a moment, and then sniffed athird time.
"Why," he said slowly, "I don't just know the name of it, but it's thatfunny stuff you mix up sometimes to put in the oxygen tanks when we goup in the rarefied atmosphere in the balloon or airship."
"Manganese and potash," spoke Tom. "That and two or three other thingsthat form a chemical combination which goes off by itself ofspontaneous combustion after a certain time. Only the person who putthis bomb together didn't get the chemical mixture just right, and itwent off ahead of time; for which we have to be duly thankful."
"Do you really think that, Tom?" cried Ned.
"I'm positive of it," was the quiet answer.
"Why--why--that would mean some one tried to set fire to the red shed,Tom!"
"They not only tried it, but did it," responded Tom, more coolly thanseemed natural under the circumstances. "Only for the fact that themixture went off before it was intended to, and found us all alert andready--well, I don't like to think what might have happened," and Tomcast a look about at his group of buildings with their valuablecontents.
"You mean some one purposely put that bomb in the red shed, Tom?"
"That's exactly what I mean. Some enemy, who wanted to do me an injury,planned this thing deliberately. He filled this steel shell withchemicals which, of themselves, after a certain time, would send out ahot tongue of flame through this hole," and Tom pointed to the openingin the round steel shell.
"He knew the fire would be practically unquenchable by ordinary means,and he counted on its soon eating its way into the carbide and otherexplosives. Only it didn't."
"Why, Tom!" cried Ned. "It was just like one of those alarm-clockdynamite bombs--set to go off at a certain time."
"Exactly," Tom said, "only this was more delicate, and, if it hadworked properly, there wouldn't have been a vestige left to give us aclue. But the fire, thanks to the ballast sand in the dirigible, wasput out in time. The fuse burned itself out, but I can tell by thesmell that chemicals were in it. That's all, Koku," he went on to thegiant who had stood waiting, not understanding all the talk between Tomand Ned. "I'll take care of this now."
"Bad man put it there?" asked the giant, who at least comprehended thatsomething was wrong.
"Well, yes, I guess you could say it was a bad man," replied Tom.
"Ha! If Koku find bad man--bad for that man!" muttered the giant, as heclasped his two enormous hands together, as though they were already onthe fellow who had tried to do Tom Swift such an injury.
"I wouldn't like to be that man, if Koku catches him," observed Ned."Have you any idea who it could be, Tom?"
"Not the least. Of course I know I have enemies, Ned. Every successfulinventor has persons who imagine he has stolen their ideas, whether hehas ever seen them or not. It may have been one of those persons, orsome half-mad crank, who was jealous. It would be impossible to say,Ned."
"It wouldn't be Andy Foger, would it?"
"No; I don't believe Andy has been in this neighborhood for some time.The last lesson we gave him sickened him, I guess."
"How about those diamond-makers, whose secret you discovered? Theywouldn't be trying to get back at you, would they?"
"Well, it's possible, Ned. But I don't imagine so. They seem to havebeen pretty well broken up. No, I don't believe it was thediamond-makers who put this fire bomb in the red shed. Their line ofactivities didn't include this branch. It takes a chemist to know justhow to blend the things contained in the bomb, and even a good chemistis likely to fail--as this one did, as far as time went."
"What are you going to do about it?" Ned asked.
"I don't know," and Tom spoke slowly, "I hoped I was done with all thatsort of thing," he went on; "fighting enemies whom I have neverknowingly injured. But it seems they are still after me. Well, Ned,this gives us something to do, at all events."
"You mean trying to find out who these fellows are?"
"Yes; that is, if you are willing to help."
"Well, I guess I am!" cried the bank clerk with sparkling eyes. "Iwouldn't ask anything better. We've been in things like this before,Tom, and we'll go in again--and win! I'll help you all I can. Now,let's see if we can pick up any other clues. This is like old times!"and Ned laughed, for he, like Tom, enjoyed a good "fight," and one inwhich the odds were against them.
"We sure will have our hands full," declared the young inventor."Trying to solve the problem of carrying guns on an aerial warship, andfinding out who set this fire."
"Then you're not going to give up your aerial warship idea?"
"No, indeed!" Tom cried. "What made you think that?"
"Well, the way your father spoke--"
"Oh, dear old dad!" exclaimed Tom affectionately. "I don't want toargue with him, but he's dead wrong!"
"Then you are going to make a go of it?"
"I sure am, Ned! All I have to solve is the recoil proposition, and, assoon as we get straightened out from this fire, we'll tackle thatproblem again--you and I. But I sure would like to know who put this inmy red shed," and Tom looked in a puzzled manner at the empty fire bombhe still held.
Tom paused, on his way to the house, to put the bomb in one of hisoffices.
"No use letting dad know about this," he went on. "It would only besomething else for him to worry about."
"That's right," agreed Ned.
By this time nearly all evidences of the fire, except for the blackenedruins of the shed, had been cleared away. High in the air hung a cloudof black smoke, caused by some chemicals that had burned harmlesslysave for that pall. Tom Swift had indeed had a lucky escape.
The young inventor, finding his father quieted down and conversingeasily with Mr. Damon, who was blessing everything he could think of,motioned to Ned to follow him out of the house again.
"We'll leave dad here," said Tom, "and do a little investigating on ourown account. We'll look for clues while they're fresh."
But, it must be confessed, after Tom and Ned had spent the rest of thatday in and about the burned shed, they were little wiser than when theystarted. They found the place where the fire bomb had evidently beenplaced, right inside the main entrance to the shed. Tom knew it hadbeen there because there were peculiar marks on the charred wood, and acertain queer smell of chemicals that confirmed his belief.
"They put the bomb there to prevent anyone going in at the first alarmand saving anything," Tom said. "They didn't count on the roof burningthrough first, giving me a chance to use the sand. I made the roof ofthe red shed flimsy just on that account, so the force of the explosionif one ever came, would be mostly upward. You know the expanding gases,caused by an explosion or by rapid combustion, always do just aselectricity does, seek the shortest and easiest route. In this case Imade the roof the easiest route."
"A lucky provision," observed Ned.
That night Tom had to confess himself beaten, as far as finding clueswas concerned. The empty fire bomb was the only one, and that seemedvalueless.
Close questioning of the workmen failed to disclose anything. Tom wasparticularly anxious to discover if any mysterious strangers had beenseen about the works. There was a strict rule about admitting them tothe plant, however, and it could not be learned that this had beenviolated.
"Well, we'll just have to lay that aside for a while," Tom said thenext day, when Ned again came to pay a visit. "Now, what do you say totackling, with me, that recoil problem on the aerial warship?"
"I'm ready, if you are," Ned agreed, "though I know about as much ofthose things as a snake does about dancing. But I'm game."
The two friends walked out toward the shed where Tom's new craft washoused. As yet Ned had not seen it. On the way they saw Eradicatewalking along, talking to himself, as he often did.
"I wonder what he has on his mind," remarked Ned musingly.
"Something does seem to be worrying him," agreed Tom.
As they neared the colored man, they could hear him saying:
"He suah did hab nerve, dat's what he did! De idea ob askin' me all demquestions, an' den wantin' t' know if I'd sell him!"
"What's that, Eradicate?" asked Tom.
"Oh, it's a man I met when I were comin' back from de ash dump,"Eradicate explained. One of the colored man's duties was to cart ashesaway from Tom's various shops, and dump them in a certain swampy lot.With an old ramshackle cart, and his mule, Boomerang, Eradicate didthis task to perfection.
"A man--what sort of a man?" asked Tom, always ready to be suspiciousof anything unusual.
"He were a queer man," went on the aged colored helper. "First hestopped me an' asted me fo' a ride. He was a dressed-up gen'man, too,an' I were suah s'prised at him wantin' t' set in mah ole ash cart,"said Eradicate. "But I done was polite t' him, an' fixed a blanket so'she wouldn't git too dirty. Den he asted me ef I didn't wuk fo' yo',Massa Tom, an' of course I says as how I did. Den he asted me about defire, an' how much damage it done, an' how we put it out. An' he end upby sayin' he'd laik t' buy mah mule, Boomerang, an' he wants t' comeheah dis arternoon an' talk t' me about it."
"He does, eh?" cried Tom. "What sort of a man was he, Rad?"
"Well, a gen'man sort ob man, Massa Tom. Stranger t' me. I nebber seedhim afo'. He suah was monstrous polite t' ole black Eradicate, an' hegib me a half-dollar, too, jest fo' a little ride. But I aint' gwine t'sell Boomerang, no indeedy, I ain't!" and Eradicate shook his gray,kinky head decidedly.
"Ned, there may be something in this!" said Tom, in an excited whisperto his chum. "I don't like the idea of a mysterious strangerquestioning Eradicate!"