Tom Swift and His Submarine Boat by Howard R. Garis (read after .TXT) đź“–
- Author: Howard R. Garis
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When the craft was finished, and the navigators were ready to start on their first long trip, Mr. Swift was asked to go with them. He declined, but would not tell why, until Tom, pressing him for an answer, learned that his father was planning a submarine boat, which he hoped to enter in some trials for Government prizes. Mr. Swift remained at home to work on this submarine, while his son and Mr. Sharp were sailing above the clouds.
On their return, however, and after the bank mystery had been cleared up, Tom and Mr. Sharp, aided Mr. Swift in completing the submarine, until, when the present story opens, it needed but little additional work to make the craft ready for the water.
Of course it had to be built near the sea, as it would have been impossible to transport it overland from Shopton. So, before the keel was laid, Mr. Swift rented a large cottage at a seaside place on the New Jersey coast and there, after, erecting a large shed, the work on the Advance, as the under-water ship was called, was begun.
It was soon to be launched in a large creek that extended in from the ocean and had plenty of water at high tide. Tom and Mr. Sharp made several trips back and forth from Shopton in their airship, to see that all was safe at home and occasionally to get needed tools and supplies from the shops, for not all the apparatus could be moved from Shopton to the coast.
It was when returning from one of these trips that Tom brought with him the paper containing an account of the wreck of the Boldero and the sinking of the treasure she carried.
Until late that night the three fortune-hunters discussed various matters.
“We’ll hurry work on the ship,” said Mr. Swift it length. “Tom, I wonder if your friend, Mr. Damon, would care to try how it seems under Water? He stood the air trip fairly well.”
“I’ll write and ask him,” answered the lad. “I’m sure he’ll go.”
Securing, a few days later, the assistance of two mechanics, whom he knew he could trust, for as yet the construction of the Advance was a secret, Mr. Swift prepared to rush work on the submarine, and for the next three weeks there were busy times in the shed next to the seaside cottage. So busy, in fact, were Tom and Mr. Sharp, that they only found opportunity for one trip in the airship, and that was to get some supplies from the shops at home.
“Well,” remarked Mr. Swift one night, at the close of a hard day’s work, “another week will see our craft completed. Then we will put it in the water and see how it floats, and whether it submerges as I hope it does. But come on, Tom. I want to lock up. I’m very tired to-night.”
“All right, dad,” answered the young inventor coming from the darkened rear of the shop. “I just want to—”
Ne paused suddenly, and appeared to be listening. Then he moved softly back to where he had come from.
“What’s the matter?” asked his father in a whisper. “What’s up, Tom?”
The lad did not answer Mr. Swift, with a worried look on his face, followed his son. Mr. Sharp stood in the door of the shop.
“I thought I heard some one moving around back here,” went on Tom quietly.
“Some one in this shop!” exclaimed the aged inventor excitedly. “Some one trying to steal my ideas again! Mr. Sharp, come here! Bring that rifle! We’ll teach these scoundrels a lesson!”
Tom quickly darted hack to the extreme rear of the building. There was a scuffle, and the next minute Tom cried out:
“What are you doing here?”
“Ha! I beg your pardon,” replied a voice. “I am looking for Mr. Barton Swift.”
“My father,” remarked Tom. “But that’s a queer place to look for him. He’s up front. Father, here’s a man who wishes to see you,” he called.
“Yes, I strolled in, and seeing no one about I went to the rear of the place,” the voice went on. “I hope I haven’t transgressed.”
“We were busy on the other side of the shop, I guess,” replied Tom, and he looked suspiciously at the man who emerged from the darkness into the light from a window. “I beg your pardon for grabbing you the way I did,” went on the lad, “but I thought you were one of a gang of men we’ve been having trouble with.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” continued the man easily. “I know Mr. Swift, and I think he will remember me. Ah, Mr. Swift, how do you do?” he added quickly, catching sight of Tom’s father, who, with Mr. Sharp, was coming to meet the lad.
“Addison Berg!” exclaimed the aged inventor as he saw the man’s face more plainly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” replied the man. “May I have a talk with you privately?”
“I—I suppose so,” assented Mr. Swift nervously. “Come into the house.”
Mr. Berg left Tom’s side and advanced to where Mr. Swift was standing. Together the two emerged from the now fast darkening shop and went toward the house.
“Who is he?” asked Mr. Sharp of the young inventor in a whisper.
“I don’t know,” replied the lad; “but, whoever he is, dad seems afraid of him. I’m going to keep my eyes open.”
Following his father and the stranger whom the aged inventor had addressed as Mr. Berg, Tom and Mr. Sharp entered the house, the lad having first made sure that Garret Jackson was on guard in the shop that contained the submarine.
“Now,” said Mr. Swift to the newcomer, “I am at your service. What is it you wish?”
“In the first place, let me apologize for having startled you and your friends,” began the man. “I had no idea of sneaking into your workshop, but I had just arrived here, and seeing the doors open I went in. I heard no one about, and I wandered to the back of the place. There I happened to stumble over a board—”
“And I heard you,” interrupted Tom.
“Is this one of your employees?” asked Mr. Berg in rather frigid tones.
“That is my son,” replied Mr. Swift.
“Oh, I beg your pardon.” The man’s manner changed quickly. “Well, I guess you did hear me, young man. I didn’t intend to hark my shins the way I did, either. You must have taken me for a burglar or a sneak thief.”
“I have been very much bothered by a gang of unscrupulous men,” said Mr. Swift, “and I suppose Tom thought it was some of them sneaking around again.”
“That’s what I did,” added the lad. “I wasn’t going to have any one steal the secret of the submarine if I could help it.”
“Quite right! Quite right!” exclaimed Mr. Berg. “But my purpose was an open one. As you know, Mr. Swift, I represent the firm of Bentley & Eagert, builders of submarine boats and torpedoes. They heard that you were constructing a craft to take part in the competitive prize tests of the United States Government, and they asked me to come and see you to learn when your ship would be ready. Ours is completed, but we recognize that it will be for the best interests of all concerned if there are a number of contestants, and my firm did not want to send in their entry until they knew that you were about finished with your ship. How about it? Are you ready to compete?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Swift slowly. “We are about ready. My craft needs a few finishing touches, and then it will be ready to launch.”
“Then we may expect a good contest on your part,” suggested Mr. Berg.
“Well,” began the aged inventor, “I don’t know about that.”
“What’s that?” exclaimed Mr. Berg.
“I said I wasn’t quite sure that we would compete,” went on Mr. Swift. “You see, when I first got this idea for a submarine boat I had it in mind to try for the Government prize of fifty thousand dollars.”
“That’s what we want, too,” interrupted Mr. Berg with a smile.
“But,” went on Tom’s father, “since then certain matters have come up, and I think, on the whole, that we’ll not compete for the prize after all.”
“Not compete for the prize?” almost shouted the agent for Bentley & Eagert. “Why, the idea! You ought to compete. It is good for the trade. We think we have a very fine craft, and probably we would beat you in the tests, but—”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” put in Tom. “You have only seen the outside of our boat. The inside is better yet.”
“Ah, I have no doubt of that,” spoke Mr. Berg, “but we have been at the business longer than you have, and have had more experience. Still we welcome competition. But I am very much surprised that you are not going to compete for the prize, Mr. Swift. Very much surprised, indeed! You see, I came down from Philadelphia to arrange so that we could both enter our ships at the same time. I understand there is another firm of submarine boat builders who are going to try for the prize, and I want to arrange a date that will be satisfactory to all. I am greatly astonished that you are not going to compete.”
“Well, we were going to,” said Mr. Swift, “only we have changed our minds, that’s all. My son and I have other plans.”
“May I ask what they are?” questioned Mr. Berg.
“You may,” exclaimed Tom quickly; “but I don’t believe we can tell you. They’re a secret,” he added more cordially.
“Oh, I see,” retorted Mr. Berg. “Well, of course I don’t wish to penetrate any of your secrets, but I hoped we could contest together for the Government prize. It is worth trying for I assure you—fifty thousand dollars. Besides, there is the possibility of selling a number of submarines to the United States. It’s a fine prize.”
“But the one we are after is a bigger one,” Cried Tom impetuously, and the moment he had spoken the wished he could recall the words.
“Eh? What’s that?” exclaimed Mr. Berg. “You don’t mean to say another government has offered a larger prize? If I had known that I would not have let my firm enter into the competition for the bonus offered by the United States. Please tell me.”
“I’m sorry,” went on Tom more soberly. “I shouldn’t have spoken. Mr. Berg, the plans of my father and myself are such that we can’t reveal them now. We are going to try for a prize, but not in competition with you. It’s an entirely different matter.”
“Well, I guess you’ll find that the firm of Bentley & Eagert are capable of trying for any prizes that are offered,” boasted the agent. “We may be competitors yet.”
“I don’t believe so,” replied Mr. Swift
“We may,” repeated Mr. Berg. “And if we do, please remember that we will show no mercy. Our boats are the best.”
“And may the best boat win,” interjected Mr. Sharp. “That’s all we ask. A fair field and no favors.”
“Of course,” spoke the agent coldly. “Is this another son of yours?” he asked.
“No but a good friend,” replied the aged inventor. “No, Mr. Berg, we won’t compete this time. You may tell your firm so.”
“Very good,” was the other’s stiff reply. “Then I will bid you good night. We shall carry off the Government prize, but permit me to add that I am very much astonished, very much indeed, that you do not try for the
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