Tom Swift and His Sky Racer | Page 5

open windows of
the library.
"Some one is out there, listening," said Tom in low tones.
"Perhaps it's Eradicate Sampson," suggested Mr. Swift, referring to the
eccentric colored man who was employed by the inventor and his son
to help around the place. "Very likely it was Eradicate, Tom."
"I don't think so," was the lad's answer. "He went to the village a while
ago, and said he wouldn't be back until late to-night. He had to get
some medicine for his mule, Boomerang, who is sick. No, it wasn't
Eradicate; but some one was under that window, trying to hear what we
said."
As he spoke in guarded tones, Tom went softly to the casement and
looked out. He could observe nothing, as the night was dark, and the
new moon, which had been shining, was now dimmed by clouds.
"See anything?" asked Mr. Gunmore as he advanced to Tom's side.
"No," was the low answer. I can't hear anything now, either."
"I'll go speak to Mrs. Baggert, the housekeeper," volunteered Mr. Swift.
"Perhaps it was she, or she may know something about it."
He started from the room, and as he went Tom noticed, with something
of a start, that his father appeared older that night than he had ever
looked before. There was a trace of pain on the face of the aged
inventor, and his step was lagging.

"I guess dad needs a rest and doctoring up," thought the young inventor
as he turned the electric chandelier off by a button on the wall, in order
to darken the room, so that he might peer out to better advantage. "I
think he's been working too hard on his wireless motor. I must get Dr.
Gladby to come over and see dad. But now I want to find out who that
was under this window."
Once more Tom looked out. The moon had emerged from behind a thin
bank of clouds, and gave a little light.
"See anything?" asked Mr. Gunmore cautiously.
"No," whispered the youth, for it being a warm might, the windows
were open top and bottom, a screen on the outside keeping out
mosquitoes and other insects. "I can't see a thing," went on Tom, "but
I'm sure--"
He paused suddenly. As he spoke there sounded a rustling in the
shrubbery a little distance from the window.
"There's something!" exclaimed Mr. Gunmore.
"I see!" answered the young inventor.
Without another word he softly opened the screen, and then, stooping
down to get under the lower sash (for the windows in the library ran all
the way to the floor), Tom dropped out of the casement upon the thick
grass.
As he did so he was aware of a further movement in the bushes. They
were violently agitated, and a second later a dark object sprang from
them and sprinted along the path.
"Here! Who are you? Hold on!" cried the young inventor.
But the figure never halted. Tom sprang forward, determined to see
who it was, and, if possible, capture him.
"Hold on!" he cried again. There was no answer.

Tom was a good runner, and in a few seconds he had gained on the
fugitive, who could just be seen in the dim light from the crescent
moon.
"I've got you!" cried Tom.
But he was mistaken, for at that instant his foot caught on the
outcropping root of a tree, and the young inventor went flat on his face.
"Just my luck!" he cried.
He was quickly on his feet again, and took after the fugitive. The latter
glanced back, and, as it happened, Tom had a good look at his face. He
almost came to a stop, so startled was he.
"Andy Foger!" he exclaimed as he recognized the bully who had
always proved himself such an enemy of our hero. "Andy Foger
sneaking under my windows to hear what I had to say about my new
aeroplane! I wonder what his game can be? I'll soon find out!"
Tom was about to resume the chase, when he lost sight of the figure. A
moment later he heard the puffing of an automobile, as some one
cranked it up.
"It's too late!" exclaimed Tom. "There he goes in his car!" And
knowing it would be useless to keep up the chase, the youth turned
back toward his house.
Chapter Two
Mr. Swift is Ill
"Who was it?" asked Mr. Gunmore as Tom again entered the library.
"A friend of yours?"
"Hardly a friend," replied Tom grimly. "It was a young fellow who has
made lots of trouble for me in the past, and who, lately, with his father,
tried to get ahead of me and some friends of mine in locating a gold

claim in Alaska. I don't know what he's up to now,