Part 4 (2/2)

As Mr. Nestor pa.s.sed along the fence, rather vaguely wondering why it was so high, tight and strong, he felt the ground trembling beneath his feet. It rumbled and shook as though a distant train were pa.s.sing, and yet there was none due now, for Mr. Nestor had just left one, and another would not arrive for an hour.

”That's queer,” mused Mary's father. ”If I didn't know to the contrary, I'd say that sounded like heavy guns being fired from a distance, or else blasting. It seems to come from the Swift place,” he went on. ”I wonder what they're up to in there.”

Suddenly the rumbling became more p.r.o.nounced, and mingled with it, in the dusk of the evening, were the shouts of men.

”Look out!” some one cried. ”She's going for the fence!”

A second later there was a cracking and straining of boards, and the fence near Mr. Nestor bulged out as though something big, powerful and mighty were pressing it from the inner side.

But the fence held, or else the pressure was removed, for the bulge went back into place, though some of the boards were splintered.

”Have to patch that up in the morning,” called another voice, and Mr.

Nestor recognized it as that of Tom Swift.

”What queer doings are going on here?” mused Mary's father. ”Have they got a wild bull shut up in there, and is he trying to get out? Lucky for me he didn't,” and he hurried on, the rumbling noise become fainter until it died away altogether.

That night, after his supper and while reading the paper and smoking a cigar, Mr. Nestor spoke to his daughter.

”Mary, have you seen anything of Tom Swift lately?”

”Why, yes, Father. He was over for a little while the other night, but he didn't stay long. Why do you ask?”

”Oh, nothing special. I just came past his place and I heard some queer noises, that's all. He's up to some more of his tricks, I guess. Has be enlisted yet?”

”No.

”Is he going to?”

”I don't know,” and Mary seemed a bit put out by this simple question.

”What do you mean by his tricks?” she asked, and a close observer might have thought she was anxious to get away from the subject of Tom's enlistment.

”Oh, like that one when he sent you something in a box labeled 'dynamite,' and gave us all a scare. You can't tell what Tom Swift is going to do next. He's up to something now, I'll wager, and I don't believe any good will come of it.”

”You didn't think so after he sent his wireless message, and saved us from Earthquake Island,” said Mary, smiling.

”Hum! Well, that was different,” snapped Mr. Nestor. ”This time I'm sure he's up to some nonsense! The idea of cras.h.i.+ng down a fence! Why doesn't he enlist like the other chaps, or sell Liberty Bonds like Ned Newton?” and Mr. Nestor looked sharply at his daughter. ”Ned gave up a big salary as the Swifts financial man--a place he had held for a year--to go back to the bank for less, just so he could help the Government in the financial end of this war. Is Tom doing as much for his country?”

”I'm sure I don't know,” answered Mary; and soon after, with averted face, she left the room.

”Hum! Queer goings on,” mused Mr. Nestor. ”Tom Swift may be all right, but he's got an unbalanced streak in him that will bear looking out for, that's what I think!”

And having settled this matter, at least to his own satisfaction, Mr.

Nestor resumed his smoking and reading.

A little later the bell rang. There was a murmur of voices in the hall, and Mr. Nestor, half listening, heard a voice he knew.

”There's Tom Swift now!” he exclaimed. ”I'm going to find out why he doesn't enlist!”

<script>