Tom Swift and His Electric Locomotive | Page 9

been around with for years and whom he had always confided
in.
As for the girl herself, she considered Tom Swift the very nicest young
man she had ever seen. He was her beau-ideal of what a young man
should be. And she entered enthusiastically into the plans for
everything that Tom Swift was interested in.
Mary was excited by the story Tom told her in the Nestor sitting room.
The idea of the electric locomotive she saw, of course, was something
that might add to Tom's laurels as an inventor. But the other phase of
the evening's adventure--"Tom, dear!" she murmured with no little
disturbance of mind. "That man who stopped you! He is a thief, and a
dangerous man! I hate to think of your going home alone."
"He's got what he was after," chuckled Tom. "Is it likely he will bother
me again?"
"And you do not seem much worried about it," she cried, in wonder.
"Not much, I confess, Mary," said Tom, and grinned.
"But if, as you suppose, that man was working for Mr. Bartholomew's
enemies
"I am convinced that he was, for he did not rob me of my watch and
chain or loose money. And he could have done so easily. I don't mind
about the old wallet. There was only five dollars in it."
"But those notes you said you took of Mr. Bartholomew's offer?"
"Oh, yes," chuckled Tom again. "Those notes. Well, I may as well
explain to you, Mary, and not try to puzzle you any longer. But that
highwayman is sure going to be puzzled a long, long time."
"What do you mean, Tom?"
"Those notes were jotted down in my own brand of shorthand. Such
stenographic notes would scarcely be readable by anybody else. Ho, ho!

When that bold, bad hold-up gent turns the notes over to Montagne
Lewis, or whoever his principal is, there will be a sweet time."
"Oh, Tom! isn't that fun?" cried Mary, likewise much amused.
"I can remember everything we said there in the library," Tom
continued. "I'll see Ned tonight on my way home from here, and he will
draw a contract the first thing in the morning."
"You are a smart fellow, Tom!" said Mary, her laughter trilling
sweetly.
"Many thanks, Ma'am! Hope I prove your compliment true. This
two-mile-a-minute stunt--"
"It seems wonderful," breathed Mary.
"It sure will be wonderful if we can build a locomotive that will do
such fancy lacework as that," observed Tom eagerly. "It will be a great
stunt!"
"A wonderful invention, Tom."
"More wonderful than Mr. Bartholomew knows," agreed the young
fellow. "An electric locomotive with both great speed and great hauling
power is what more than one inventor has been aiming at for two or
three decades. Ever since Edison and Westinghouse began their
experiments, in truth."
"Is the locomotive they are using out there a very marvelous machine?"
asked the girl, with added interest.
"No more marvelous than the big electric motors that drag the trains
into New York City, for instance, through the tunnels. Steam engines
cannot be used in those tunnels for obvious, as well as legal, reasons.
They are all wonderful machines, using third-rail power.
"But that Jandel patent that Mr. Bartholomew is using out there on the
H. & P. A. is probably the highest type of such motors. It is up to us to

beat that. Fortunately I got a pass into the Jandel shops a few months
ago and I studied at first hand the machine Mr. Bartholomew is using."
"Isn't that great!" cried Mary.
"Well, it helps some. I at least know in a general way the 'how' of the
construction of the Jandel locomotive. It is simple enough. Too simple
by far, I should say, to get both speed and power. We'll see," and he
nodded his head thoughtfully.
Tom did not stay long with the girl, for it was already late in the
evening when he had arrived at her house. As he got up to depart
Mary's anxiety for his safety revived.
"I wish you would take care now, Tom. Those men may hound you."
"What for?" chuckled the young inventor. "They have the notes they
wanted."
"But that very thing--the fact that you fooled them--will make them
more angry. Take care."
"I have a means of looking out for myself, after all," said Tom quietly,
seeing that he must relieve her mind. "I let that fellow get away with
my wallet; but I won't let him hurt me. Don't fear."
She had opened the door. The lamplight fell across porch and steps, and
in a broad white band even to the gate and sidewalk. There was a
motor-car slowing down right before the open gate.
"Who's this?" queried Tom, puzzled.
A sharp voice suddenly