Victor Appleton by Tom Swift;His Giant Telescope

Author:Tom Swift;His Giant Telescope
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-04-07T21:14:40+00:00

Chapter VII: Deep Sea Diving

Swiftly the masked man took a bunch of keys from Tom’s pocket. With a directness that indicated familiarity with the place, he went straight to the run covering the entrance to the secret vault. Throwing this aside, he unlocked the trap door and quietly raised it. The combination lock, which gave warning if tampered with, had not been set for the night.

Now the intruder very carefully draped the rug over the door in such a way that it would spread itself as before when the trap should be closed from below. Two minutes alter Tom was alone in the office, which appeared exactly as it had been before he was rendered unconscious. Yet there crouched in the vault a hidden spy whose purpose was as sinister as his appearance.

“Mist’ Swift, Massa Tom ain’t come back fum de office yet,” announced Rad Sampson as he placed the elderly inventor’s nightly glass of hot milk on the library table. “I wuz jest up t’ his room to ax his suffin’ an’ he waxn’t dar.”

“Well, I guess the boy is working a bit late tonight. But you sound a trifle anxious, Eradicate. Do you think anything is wrong?”

“Uh-Oh, no suh. No suh,” mumbled the old Negro. “I jest wondered ef yo’d seen him. Good night, suh! Good night!”

“Good night, Rad.”

“Musn’t worry ole Mist’ Swift,” the servant muttered to himself as he shuffled back to the kitchen. “But Massa Tom tole me hisself he gwine t’ baid early ‘cause he gotta get up befo’ sunrise.

“Look hyah, Koku,” he went on when he tog to the kitchen. “Quit stuffin’ dat ‘ar pie an’ go out an’ see ef Massa Tom all right. He ought t’ have been in de house long sence. I’se skeered mebbe some villains mought’ve cotched him!”

“Whoo!” growled the giant, jumping up so quickly that his specially-built chair crashed over. “Where um war-club? Me fixum!”

“Doan make sich a racket, yo’ big lummox! Yo’ want to skeer ol’ Mist’ Swift? Heah, take mah rollin’-pin.”

Clutching the rolling pin as a “war-club,” Koku started through the darkness toward Tom’s private laboratory. Following him at a discreet distance came old Rad Sampson, who had armed himself with a big butcher knife.

“Dar’s a light in de office, big boy,” whispered the Negro. “Be keerful, now!”

The giant merely grunted, crept up to the window and peered within. His great height enabled him to do so easily. “Come,” he said finally, turning toward the door. “We go in.”

“Whut de matter?” demanded Eradicate, struggling to keep up with his companion. “Am suffin’ wrong? Mah goodness!” he cried a moment later in the office. “Po’ Massa Tom done been killed! Look at him a-layin’ dere!”

“Him no dead!” rumbled Koku, leaning over his master. “Him heart still beatum. Him need fresh air.” Gently he picked Tom up and carried him outside.

“I’ll git a doctah!” exclaimed the old colored man. “Dey’s a phone in heah.”

Before the physician could be reached, the beneficial effects of the cool night air had brought the young inventor back to consciousness.

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