Part 11 (1/2)

”What are you moving--eggs, that you have to be so careful?” asked the young inventor, in a low voice.

”Eggs? No! But it might just as well be,” was the growling answer.

”He's s.h.i.+pping an airs.h.i.+p, all taken to pieces, and he has nervous prostration for fear it will be broken. I don't believe the old thing's any good, anyhow.”

”An airs.h.i.+p--Andy Foger sending away his airs.h.i.+p?” gasped Tom.

”Where to?”

”Some place in Alaska,” was the startling reply. ”Pitka or Sitka, or some such place like that. It's all in these boxes, G'lang there!”

this to his horses.

”Andy sending his airs.h.i.+p to Alaska!” murmured Tom in dismay. ”Then he surely is going to make a try for that valley of gold!”

He turned away, while the snarling voice of the bully rang out on the night, urging the drivers to be very careful of the boxes and crates on their trucks.

CHAPTER VIII

A THIEF IN THE NIGHT

Tom Swift hardly knew what to think. He had scarcely believed, in spite of the fact that he was sure Andy had a copy of the map, that the bully would actually make an effort to go to the valley of gold.

”And in that airs.h.i.+p of his, too,” mused Tom. ”Well, there's one consolation, I don't believe he'll go far in that, though it does sail better than when he made his first attempt. Well, if he's going to try to beat us, it's a good thing I know it. We can be prepared for him, now.”

Tom, after watching the big vans for a few minutes, turned and kept on toward his home.

There was more than surprise on the part of Mr. Damon and the others when Tom told his news. There was alarm, for there was a feeling that Mr. Foger and his son might adopt unscrupulous tricks.

”But what can we do?” asked Mr. Swift.

”Whitewash him!” exclaimed Eradicate Sampson, who had overheard part of the conversation. ”Dat's what I'd do t' him an' his father, too!

Dat's what I would! Fust I'd let mah mule Boomerang kick him a bit, an' den, when he was all mussed up, I'd whitewash him!” That was the colored man's favorite method of dealing with enemies, but, of course, he could not always carry it out.

However, after considering the matter from all sides, it was decided that nothing could be done for the present.

”Let them go,” said Tom, ”I don't believe they'll ever find the valley of gold. I fancy I threw a scare into Andy, talking as I did about the map.”

”Well, even if the Fogers do get the gold,” said Mr. Parker calmly, ”they cannot take away the caves of ice, and it is in them that I am most interested. I want to prove some of my new theories.”

”And we need the gold,” said Tom, in a low voice; ”don't we, Abe?”

”That's what we do, Tom,” answered the old miner.

Preparations were now practically completed for their trip to Seattle by rail. Tom made some inquiries in the next few days regarding the Fogers, but only learned that the father and son had left town, after superintending the s.h.i.+pment of their airs.h.i.+p.

”Well, we start to-day,” remarked Tom, as he arose one morning. ”In two weeks, at most, we ought to be hovering over the valley, Abe.”

”I hope so, Tom. You've got the map put away safely, have you?”