"Everything seems to be all right," Tom remarked, "but another inchor so and he'd have crashed into me. I wonder who he was? I wish Ihad a machine like that. I could make better time than I can on mybicycle. Perhaps I'll get one some day. Well, I might as well rideon."
Tom was soon at Mansburg, and going to the post-office handed in theletter for registry. Bearing in mind his father's words, he lookedabout to see if there were any suspicious characters, but the onlyperson he noticed was a well-dressed man, with a black mustache, whoseemed to be intently studying the schedule of the arrival anddeparture of the mails.
"Do you want the receipt for the registered, letter sent to you hereor at Shopton?" asked the clerk of Tom. "Come to think of it,though, it will have to come here, and you can call for it. I'llhave it returned to Mr. Barton Swift, care of general delivery, andyou can get it the next time you are over," for the clerk knew Tom.
"That will do," answered our hero, and as he turned away from thewindow he saw that the man who had been inquiring about the mailswas regarding him curiously. Tom thought nothing of it at the time,but there came an occasion when he wished that he had taken morecareful note of the well-dressed individual. As the youth passed outof the outer door he saw the man walk over to the registry window.
"He seems to have considerable mail business," thought Tom, and thenthe matter passed from his mind as he mounted his wheel and hurriedto the machine shop.
"Say, I'm awfully sorry," announced Mr. Merton when Tom said he hadcome for the bolts, "but they're not quite done. They needpolishing. I know I promised them to your father to-day, and he canhave them, but he was very particular about the polish, and as oneof my best workers was taken sick, I'm a little behind."
"How long will it take to polish them?" asked Tom.
"Oh, about an hour. In fact, a man is working on them now. If youcould call this afternoon they'll be ready. Can you?"
"I s'pose I've got to," replied Tom good-naturedly. "Guess I'll haveto stay in Mansburg for dinner. I can't get back to Shopton in timenow."
"I'll be sure to have them for you after dinner," promised Mr.Merton. "Now, there's a matter I want to speak to you about, Tom.Has your father any idea of giving the work he has been turning overto me to some other firm?"
"Not that I know of. Why?" and the lad showed his wonder.
"Well, I'll tell you why. Some time ago there was a stranger inhere, asking about your father's work. I told Mr. Swift of it at thetime. The stranger said then that he and some others were thinkingof opening a machine shop, and he wanted to find out whether theywould be likely to get any jobs from your father. I told the man Iknew nothing about Mr. Swift's business, and he went away. I didn'thear any more of it, though of course I didn't want to lose yourfather's trade. Now a funny thing happened. Only this morning thesame man was back here, and he was making particular inquiries aboutyour father's private machine shops."
"He was?" exclaimed Tom excitedly.
"Yes. He wanted to know where they were located, how they were laidout, and what sort of work he did in them."
"What did you tell him?"
"Nothing at all. I suspected something, and I said the best way forhim to find out would be to go and see your father. Wasn't thatright?"
"Sure. Dad doesn't want his business known any more than he canhelp. What do you suppose they wanted?"
"Well, the man talked as though he and his partners would like tobuy your father's shops."
"I don't believe he'd sell. He has them arranged just for his ownuse in making patents, and I'm sure he would not dispose of them."
"Well, that's what I thought, but I didn't tell the man so. I judgedit would be best for him to find out for himself."
"What was the man's name?"
"He didn't tell me, and I didn't ask him."
"How did he look?"
"Well, he was well dressed, wore kid gloves and all that, and he hada little black mustache."
Tom started, and Mr. Merton noticed it.
"Do you know him?" he asked.
"No," replied Tom, "but I saw--" Then he stopped. He recalled theman he had seen in the post-office. He answered this description,but it was too vague to be certain.
"Did you say you'd seen him?" asked Mr. Merton, regarding Tomcuriously.
"No--yes--that is--well, I'll tell my father about it," stammeredTom, who concluded that it would be best to say nothing of hissuspicions. "I'll be back right after dinner, Mr. Merton. Pleasehave the bolts ready for me, if you can."
"I will. Is your father going to use them in a new machine?"
"Yes; dad is always making new machines," answered the youth, as themost polite way of not giving the proprietor of the shop anyinformation. "I'll be back right after dinner," he called as he wentout to get on his wheel.
Tom was much puzzled. He felt certain that the man in the post-office and the one who had questioned Mr. Merton were the same.
"There is something going on, that dad should know about," reflectedTom. "I must tell him. I don't believe it will be wise to send anymore of his patent work over to Merton. We must do it in the shopsat home, and dad and I will have to keep our eyes open. There may bespies about seeking to discover something about his new turbinemotor. I'll hurry back with those bolts and tell dad. But first Imust get lunch. I'll go to the restaurant and have a good feed whileI'm at it."
Tom had plenty of spending money, some of which came from a smallpatent he had marketed himself. He left his wheel outside therestaurant, first taking the precaution to chain the wheels, andthen went inside. Tom was hungry and ordered a good meal. He wasabout half way through it when some one called his name.
"Hello, Ned!" he answered, looking up to see a youth about his ownage. "Where did you blow in from?"
"Oh, I came over from Shopton this morning," replied Ned Newton,taking a seat at the table with Tom. The two lads were chums, and intheir younger days had often gone fishing, swimming and huntingtogether. Now Ned worked in the Shopton bank, and Tom was so busyhelping his father, so they did not see each other so often.
"On business or pleasure?" asked Tom, putting some more sugar in hiscoffee.
"Business. I had to bring some papers over from our bank to theFirst National here. But what about you?"
"Oh, I came on dad's account."
"Invented anything new?" asked Ned as he gave his order to thewaitress.
"No, nothing since the egg-beater I was telling you about. But I'mworking on some things."
"Why don't you invent an automobile or an airship?"
"Maybe I will some day, but, speaking of autos, did you see the oneAndy Foger has?"
"Yes; it's a beaut! Have you seen it?"
"Altogether at too close range. He nearly ran over me this morning,"and the young inventor related the occurrence.
"Oh, Andy always was too fresh," commented Ned; "and since hisfather let him get the touring car I suppose he'll be worse thanever."
"Well, if he tries to run me down again he'll get into trouble,"declared Tom, calling for a second cup of coffee.
The two chums began conversing on more congenial topics, and Ned wastelling of a new camera he had, when, from a table directly behindhim, Tom heard some one say in rather loud tones:
"The plant is located in Shopton, all right, and the buildings arenear Swift's house."
Tom started, and listened more intently.
"That will make it more difficult," one man answered. "But if theinvention is as valuable as--"
"Hush!" came a caution from another of the party. "This is toopublic a place to discuss the matter. Wait until we get out. One ofus will have to see Swift, of course, and if he proves stubborn--"
"I guess you'd better hush yourself," retorted the man who had firstspoken, and then the voices subsided.
But Tom Swift had overheard something which made him vaguely afraid.He started so at the sound of his father's name that he knocked afork from the table.
"What's the matter; getting nervous?" asked Ned with a laugh.
"I guess so," replied Tom, and when he stooped to pick the fork up,not waiting for the girl who was serving at his table, he stole alook at the strangers who had just entered. He was startled to notethat one of the men was the same he had seen in the post-office--theman who answered the description of the one who had been inquiringof Mr. Merton about the Swift shops.
"I'm going to keep my ears open," thought Tom as he went on eatinghis dinner.