Tom was thinking of many things as his speedy machine carried himmile after mile nearer home. By noon he was over half way on hisjourney, and he stopped in a small village for his dinner.
"I think I'll make inquiries of the police here, to see if theycaught sight of those men," decided Tom as he left the restaurant."Though I am inclined to believe they kept on to Albany, or somelarge city, where they have their headquarters. They will want tomake use of dad's model as soon as possible, though what they willdo with it I don't know." He tried to telephone to his father, butcould get no connection, as the wire was being repaired.
The police force of the place where Tom had stopped for lunch waslike the town itself--small and not of much consequence. The chiefconstable, for he was not what one could call a chief of police, hadheard of the matter from the alarm sent out in all directions fromDunkirk, where Mr. Blackford lived.
"You don't mean to tell me you're the young man who was chloroformedand robbed!" exclaimed the constable, looking at Tom as if hedoubted his word.
"I'm the young man," declared our hero. "Have you seen anything ofthe thieves?"
"Not a thing, though I've instructed all my men to keep a sharplookout for a red automobile, with three scoundrels in it. My menare to make an arrest on sight."
"How many men have you?"
"Two," was the rather surprising answer; "but one has to work on afarm daytimes, so I ain't really got but one in what you might callactive service."
Tom restrained a desire to laugh. At any rate, the aged constablemeant well.
"One of my men seen a red automobile, a little while before you comein my office," went on the official, "but it wasn't the one wanted,'cause a young woman was running it all alone. It struck me asrather curious that a woman would trust herself all alone in one ofthem things; wouldn't it you?"
"Oh, no, women and young ladies often operate them," said Tom.
"I should think you'd find one handier than the two-wheeledapparatus you have out there," went on the constable, indicating themotor-cycle, which Tom had stood up against a tree.
"I may have one some day," replied the young inventor. "But I guessI'll be moving on now. Here's my address, in case you hear anythingof those men, but I don't imagine you will."
"Me either. Fellows as slick as them are won't come back this wayand run the chance of being arrested by my men. I have two on dutynights," he went on proudly, "besides myself, so you see we'repretty well protected."
Tom thanked him for the trouble he had taken, and was soon on hisway again. He swept on along the quiet country roads anxious for thetime when he could consult with his father over what would be thebest course to take.
When Tom was about a mile away from his house he saw in the roadahead of him a rickety old wagon, and a second glance at it told himthe outfit belonged to Eradicate Sampson, for the animal drawing thevehicle was none other than the mule, Boomerang.
"But what in the world is Rad up to?" mused Tom, for the colored manwas out of the wagon and was going up and down in the grass at theside of the highway in a curious fashion. "I guess he's lostsomething," decided Tom.
When he got nearer he saw what Eradicate was doing. The colored manwas pushing a lawn-mower slowly to and fro in the tall, rank grassthat grew beside the thoroughfare, and at the sound of Tom'smotor-cycle the negro looked up. There was such a woe-begoneexpression on his face that Tom at once stopped his machine and gotoff.
"What's the matter, Rad?" Tom asked.
"Mattah, Mistah Swift? Why, dere's a pow'ful lot de mattah, an'dat's de truff. I'se been swindled, dat's what I has."
"Swindled? How?"
"Well, it's dis-a-way. Yo' see dis yeah lawn-moah?"
"Yes; it doesn't seem to work," and Tom glanced critically at it. AsEradicate pushed it slowly to and fro, the blades did not revolve,and the wheels slipped along on the grass.
"No, sah, it doan't work, an' dat's how I've been swin............