Читать книгу Tom Swift and his Chest of Secrets; Or, Tracing the Stolen Inventions - Howard R Garis - Страница 6

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Ned Newton turned back to the telephone, from which he had moved but a moment to answer his chum and employer, and to his father, on the other end of the wire, the young manager said:

“I’ll be with you right away, Dad! They’re not going to get by with anything like that—not in a thousand years! Don’t let them bluff you. It’s just a rotten bad mistake, that’s all. I’ll be right with you. What’s that? Will Tom let me come? Well, say——”

“Tell him I’m coming with you!” shouted the young inventor vigorously as he caught the import of what his chum had said, and his voice was so loud that it carried to the other end of the wire.

“He heard you,” said Ned. “Thanks, Tom. Yes, Dad, I’ll be right along.”

He clicked the receiver back into place and with burning indignation on his face turned to Tom and Mr. Swift.

“Is your father in trouble, Ned?” asked Barton Swift. “If so you must say to him that Tom and I will do all in our power for him.”

“Thanks,” and Ned’s voice was a bit broken as he spoke the word, for he was greatly affected, as they all noted.

“Tell me in a few words what it is,” suggested Tom. “I want to know so we can go prepared to help him. Maybe we’d better stop and get Mr. Plum.” Ralph Plum was a lawyer of Shopton who attended to legal matters for the Swifts.

“I guess maybe we’ll need a lawyer,” answered Ned dejectedly. “For my father has been arrested.”

“Arrested!” exclaimed the Swifts in a breath.

“Yes. But of course he’s innocent,” and Ned proudly threw up his head.

“No question about that, old scout!” said Tom, clapping his chum on the back. “But what’s the nature of the charge? Tell me so I can telephone to Plum,” and he went over to the instrument on his desk.

“He is accused by Renwick Fawn of the theft of a good many thousands of dollars’ worth of Liberty Bonds,” answered Ned. “Dad didn’t have time to give me all the story over the telephone, but several times before this he has spoken to me about mysterious thefts of these securities from the National Investment Company, where he is employed, you know. Dad spoke of these thefts, and even mentioned that the firm had engaged a private detective to try to trace the thief. Now, like a bombshell, father is accused and arrested.”

“It’s all a mistake, of course,” said Tom. “Oh, Operator, get me Main 1576, please, and in a hurry if you can. Of course it is all a mistake,” and he resumed his talk to his chum.

“But think what the accusation means to dad, to mother and to me even though it is afterward proved—as it will be—that my father had nothing to do with the matter!” burst out Ned. “He is disgraced forever because that sneak Fawn thinks he knows it all! Oh, there has been dirty work all right!”

“Who is this fellow Fawn?” Tom wanted to know.

“A new manager they got at the Investment Company,” replied Ned. “I have heard dad speak of him. He’s one of these efficiency birds—everything done by clockwork, plenty of pep, a go-getter, and all that rot! I’d like to go get him! But, oh, the disgrace to dad!”

“Don’t worry about that!” exclaimed Mr. Swift. “No one who knows your father can ever think him disgraced, even if he were arrested for the theft of all the Liberty Bonds Uncle Sam ever put out!”

“Right-o!” cried Tom. “Oh, hello, is this Mr. Plum’s office? Yes, I want to talk to him—very important—Tom Swift speaking!”

The name of Swift worked like magic, even in such a ceremonious office as that of Mr. Plum, and a moment later Tom was pouring out a quick statement of the matter, suggesting that the lawyer hold himself in readiness to go with Tom and Ned to the office of the investment concern where, it appeared, Mr. Newton was being held in custody, preparatory to being arraigned before a police officer for commitment to a cell.

“I’ll call for you in my electric runabout,” finished Tom. “What’s that—can it go? Mr. Plum, when that car was built it was the speediest one on the road, and it has never yet been passed! Yes, we’ll be there in a jiffy!”

Turning to his chum as he hung up the receiver, Tom remarked:

“Now come on, Ned, we’ll get a move on. But we’ll take a few sinews of war with us!”

Quickly he opened the big chest he had locked, and from an inner compartment in it he extracted a sheaf of crisp bills whose yellow color told of high denominations.

“They always have to accept bail in these cases, Ned,” remarked the young inventor, “and cash always talks. Your dad will be able to sleep at home to-night.”

“Thanks,” murmured Ned, and, though he did not say it, he had had a horrible vision of his beloved father spending the night in a cell like some convicted felon.

“Look after the treasure chest, Dad!” called Tom to his father as he hurried out with his chum.

“I certainly will if you’ve got any more cash in it,” said the aged inventor, with a smile. “I didn’t know you planned to keep money in there, Tom.”

“I don’t—not as a rule. But this was some that came in when Ned wasn’t around and I didn’t have time to bank it, and it didn’t belong in the office safe. Now, Ned, hustle’s the word!”

Tom Swift had not misnamed his electric runabout. Though it was one of his earlier inventions, it was still in excellent shape and it was just the kind of machine for a quick, speedy trip. Running to the garage where it was kept, the two young men leaped in and soon the motors were humming as the “juice” from the storage battery was turned into them. Tom rounded a corner of the drive on two wheels, it seemed, and was soon off down the road, causing Ned to jam on his hat.

“We’ll stop and pick up Plum,” said Tom, in his chum’s ear as they whizzed along. “Then we’ll go right to the office of this concern. We’ll have this thing over before it’s fairly begun. Is there anything more you can tell me as we travel?”

“Not much,” Ned answered. “You know dad has been with this concern for a long time. It was only recently that I heard him speak of this new manager and his ways. It seems Fawn took a dislike to dad, who is a bit old-fashioned in some of his ideas. Not enough pep, I suppose, for the dirty hound!

“And, as I told you, there has been going on the stealing of Liberty Bonds for some time. But as this wasn’t in my father’s department he didn’t think much about it. He has charge of the mortgages. Then, like a bolt out of the blue, they accused him to-day—even pretended to find some of the missing bonds in his desk.

“Of course he indignantly denied the accusation and asked for permission to telephone me. Fawn didn’t even want to allow that, so dad told me over the wire, but the president of the concern put his foot down and said I should be informed. Now you know as much as I do.”

“Which isn’t much,” commented Tom. “It’s a case for Plum all right. We’ll be at his office in another minute.”

They found the lawyer waiting for them. Despite all his other legal work, it would never do to neglect any of the Swift family interests.

“Outline it to me quickly, Tom,” said Mr. Plum, as he got into the electric runabout. This Tom did, giving a brief account of the case as related by Ned.

“We’ll waive an immediate arraignment and have him admitted to bail,” decided the lawyer as they neared the office where Mr. Newton was detained a prisoner.

Father and son met and shook hands—hard. Tom nodded to some of the men of the investment company whom he knew and with whom he had done business. He noted one self-important individual walking up and down. It was Mr. Fawn, he guessed, and this was confirmed a minute later when this sleek person said:

“Well, Mr. Newton, you have had your way—your son is here, and some other friends, I presume. Now I demand that this man be locked up on the charge I make against him,” he went on. “Deputy, you can do your duty.”

“Just a moment,” put in Mr. Plum suavely. “I represent the defendant in this case. I ask to examine the warrant.”

“You can’t see it!” snapped out Mr. Fawn.

“Oh, yes, he can,” said the deputy sheriff who had served it. “That is always the privilege of the defendant’s lawyer.”

“Oh, well, all right,” snapped the accusing manager of the concern.

Mr. Plum glanced over the document, which was brief, and, in effect, charged Mr. Newton with embezzling, converting to his own use, stealing, taking and carrying away certain valuable property of the National Investment Company, to wit Liberty Bonds to the value of thirty-thousand dollars.

“This is a bailable offense,” said the lawyer. “We ask to be taken before a magistrate with the power of fixing bail.”

“He ought to be taken to jail—that’s where he ought to be taken! And he would be if I had my way!” snapped Mr. Fawn.

“That will do, Mr. Fawn,” sternly said the president of the concern, Amos Bell. “This is a very serious matter,” he went on. “Mr. Newton is an old friend of mine. I must insist that strict justice be done him.”

“Thank you,” said Ned’s father feelingly.

“He has a right to bail,” said the deputy. “Judge Klein is sitting at the court house now. I can take him before him.”

“Then we’ll go at once,” said Mr. Plum.

A little later they were before the bar of justice—Mr. Newton a little pale, but standing firm and upright. Ned flushed and indignant, with many a vindictive look at the manager of the investment company. Tom was clutching the bundle of notes in his pocket. The lawyer seemed to take it all as a matter of course.

“What is this case?” asked the old and learned judge, and when it had been explained and when he had read the accusation in the warrant, he said:

“I take it that you do not wish to plead now.”

“Yes, your honor, we do!” interposed Mr. Plum. “I wish to enter a plea of not guilty for my client. We waive arraignment now, and ask that he be admitted to bail, which we are prepared to furnish in any amount.”

“Um,” murmured the court. “I see he is accused of taking bonds to the value of thirty-three thousand dollars. I believe I must fix bail at ten thousand dollars.”

There was a gasp from Ned. Mr. Newton seemed to turn a trifle paler. Tom whispered hoarsely to his chum:

“Great bean pots! I brought only five thousand dollars with me!”