Part 26 (2/2)
”Well, maybe that is what's happened,” Ned was saying, when they noticed coming toward them a very much dilapidated automobile, driven by a farmer, and on the seat beside him was a small, barefoot boy.
”Which is the nearest road to Shopton?” asked the man, bringing his wheezing machine to a stop.
”Who are you looking for in Shopton?” asked Ned, while a strange feeling came over him that, somehow or other, Tom was concerned in the question.
”I'm looking for friends of a Tom Swift,” was the answer.
”Tom Swift? Where is he? What's happened to him?” cried Ned.
”Bless my dyspepsia tablets!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. ”Do you know where he is?”
”Not exactly,” answered the farmer; ”but here's a note from some one that signs himself 'Tom Swift,' and it says he's a prisoner!”
Chapter XXII
Rescued
For a moment Ned and Mr. Damon gazed at the farmer in his rattletrap of an auto, and then they looked at the fluttering piece of paper in his hand. Thence their gaze traveled to the ragged and barefoot lad sitting beside the farmer.
”I found it!” announced the boy.
”Found what?” asked Ned.
”That there note!”
Without asking any more questions, reserving them until they knew more about the matter, Mr. Damon and Ned each reached out a hand for the paper the farmer held. The latter handed it to Ned, being nearest him, and at a sight of the handwriting the young bank clerk exclaimed:
”It's from Tom, all right!”
”What happened to him?” cried Mr. Damon. ”Where is he? Is he a prisoner?”
”So it seems,” answered Ned. ”Wait, I'll read it to you,” and he read:
”'Whoever picks this up please send word at once to Mr. Swift or to Ned Newton in Shopton, or to Mr. Damon of Waterfield. I am a prisoner, locked in the old factory. Tom Swift'.”
”Bless my quinine pills!” cried Mr Damon. ”What in the world does it mean? What factory?”
”That's just what we've got to find out,” decided Ned. ”Where did you get this?” he asked the farmer's boy.
”Way off over there,” and he pointed across miles of fields. ”I was lookin' for a lost cow, and I went past an old factory. There wasn't n.o.body in the place, as far as I knowed, but all at once I heard some one yell, and then I seen something white, like a bird, sail out of a high window. I was scared for a minute, thinkin' it might be tramps after me.”
”And what did you do, Sonny?” asked Mr. Damon, as the boy paused.
”Well, after a while I went to where the white thing lay, and I picked it up. I seen it was a piece of paper, with writin' on it, and it was wrapped around part of a brick.”
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