Tom Swift and His Electric Locomotive | Page 7

street lights on this block had been extinguished--blown out
by the wind, perhaps.
Involuntarily he quickened his steps. He reached the archway in the
wall. Here was the gate dividing the private grounds from the street. As
he strode into the shadow of this place a voice suddenly halted Tom
Swift.
"Hands up! Put 'em up and don't be slow about it!" A bulky figure
loomed in the dark. Tom saw the highwayman's club poised
threateningly over his head.
Chapter II
Trouble Starts
The fact that he was stopped by a footpad smote Tom Swift's mind as
not a particularly surprising adventure. He had heard that several of that
gentry had been plying their trade about the outskirts of the town. To a
degree he was prepared for this sudden event.
Then there flashed into Tom's mind the thought of what Mr. Richard
Bartholomew had said regarding the spy he believed had followed him
from the West. Could it be possible that some hired thug sent by
Montagne Lewis and his crooked crowd of financiers considered that
Tom Swift had obtained information from the president of the H. & P.
A. that might do his employers signal service?
Tom Swift had fallen in with many adventures--and some quite
thrilling ones--since, as a youth, he was first introduced to the reader in
the initial volume of this series, entitled "Tom Swift and His Motor
Cycle." His first experiences as an inventor, coached by his father, who
had spent his life in the experimental laboratory and workshop, was

made possible by his purchase from Mr. Wakefield Damon, now one of
his closest friends, of a broken- down motor cycle.
Through a series of inventions, some of them of a marvelous kind, Tom
Swift, aided by his father, had forged ahead, building motor boats,
airships, submarines, monoplanes, motion picture cameras, searchlights,
cannons, photo-telephones, war tanks. Of late, as related in "Tom Swift
Among the Fire Fighters," he had engaged in the invention of an
explosive bomb carrying flame- quenching chemicals that would, in
time, revolutionize fire- fighting in tall buildings.
The matter that Mr. Richard Bartholomew, the railroad magnate, had
brought to Tom's and his father's attention had deeply interested the
young inventor. Thought of the electric locomotive, the development of
which the railroad president stated was the only salvation of the
finances of the H. & P. A., had so held Tom's attention as he walked
along the street that being stopped in this sudden way was even more
startling than such an incident might ordinarily have been.
Tom was a muscular young fellow; but a club held over one's head by a
burly thug would have shaken the courage of anybody. Dark as it was
under the archway the young fellow saw that the bulk of the man was
much greater than his own.
"That's right, sonny," said the stranger, in a sneering tone. "You got just
the right idea. When I say 'Stick 'em up' I mean it. Never take a chance.
Ah--ah!"
The fellow ripped open Tom's overcoat, almost tearing the buttons off.
Another masterful jerk and his victim's jacket was likewise parted
widely. He did not lower the club for an instant. He thrust his left hand
into the V-shaped parting of the young fellow's vest.
It was then that Tom was convinced of what the fellow was after. He
remembered the notes he had made regarding the contract that was to
be signed on the morrow between the Swift Construction Company and
President Richard Bartholomew of the H. & P. A. Railroad. He
remembered, too, the figure he thought he had seen in the dark porch of

the house as he so recently left it.
Mr. Bartholomew had considered it very possible that he was being
spied upon. This was one of the spies--a Westerner, as his speech
betrayed. But Tom was suddenly less fearful than he had been when
first attacked.
It did not seem possible to him that Mr. Bartholomew's enemies would
allow their henchman to go too far to obtain information of the railroad
president's intentions. This fellow was merely attempting to frighten
him.
A sense of relief came to Tom Swift's assistance. He opened his lips to
speak and could the thug have seen his face more clearly in the dark he
would have been aware of the fact that the young inventor smiled.
The fellow's groping hand entered between Tom's vest and his shirt.
The coarse fingers seized upon Tom's wallet. Nobody likes to be
robbed, no matter whether the loss is great or small. There was not
much money in the wallet, nor anything that could be turned into
money by a thief.
These facts enabled Tom, perhaps, to bear his loss with some fortitude.
The highwayman drew forth the wallet and thrust