CHAPTER XI

SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT

TOM SWIFT believed among other things that when persons are on a vacation to enjoy themselves they should be bothered, annoyed and worried as little as possible. So, though he was not altogether easy in his mind regarding the message from his shop and though he was a bit apprehensive concerning that sinister dwarf, he affected to be quite at his ease.

“Don’t worry, Mary,” he said. “Everything will be all right.”

“But why does Mr. Jackson want you to come back before your time is up?”

“Oh, a lot of little details that they think I must settle,” Tom said. “I dare say they really amount to nothing. There are many things to decide in building such a big dirigible, and naturally Jackson and Ned don’t want to take the responsibility.”

So, though he had intended to spend another day at Mt. Camon, Tom Swift made arrangements for leaving early in the morning. When the time came, the House on Wheels was brought around from the hotel garage.

“Be careful of that place where the landslide was, won’t you, Tom?” Mary called to him when he was ready to leave.

“I’m not going back that way,” he answered.

“When will you come up again?” she asked.

“I’ll come for my long vacation as soon as the dirigible is finished,” Tom said. “But I may run up for a few days before then if things are all right.”

Tom was a little downcast at leaving his wife, and Mary frankly cried a little at the parting, brief though it would be. But when Tom Swift was at length on the way back, speeding along in the House on Wheels, he was thinking of so many things that even his new wife was, for the moment, crowded out of his mind.

“I hope that bird Jardine isn’t going to butt in and spoil my plans,” Tom said. “The dirigible may be in part his idea, but I’ve got to build it and do it my own way. We may come to a bust yet, if he’s too fussy.”

Tom stayed over night at a small country town where his strange House on Wheels attracted much attention. He received several offers to purchase it, one from the proprietor of a moving picture theater who said it would be a good advertisement. But when he learned the cost he whistled and said:

“I guess that’s a bit too steep for me!”

Tom drove the machine to the limit next day, and arrived at his shop just before closing time.

“Well, I certainly am glad to see you back!” exclaimed Ned. “Oh, boy, what a relief!”

“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Tom.

“That baby Jardine,” was Ned’s reply. “He’s had the life almost bothered out of me. He just left, and when I said you might be here by dark he said he’d be back.”

“What’s the idea? What does he want?” Tom asked.

“Oh, he’s got some new notions about the dirigible. Wants to make changes in her construction. It’s all Greek to me. I put him off as best I could.”

“You didn’t let him order any changes, did you?” Tom asked.

“Certainly not! Jackson held him with a firm hand. But you’re going to have trouble with that bird!”

“No, I’m not,” Tom said. “If there’s any trouble I’ll throw over the contract. It has a revoking clause, if any changes unauthorized by me are incorporated, and I won’t make them.”

“Stick to your guns!” chuckled Ned. “Only you’re going to have your hands full, believe me.”

“What about that dwarf?” asked Tom.

“Oh, that wasn’t really anything. It was just a fuss between Chock and the giant. Koku certainly gave the little man the raspberry, and I don’t blame him for not standing it.”

“Then Chock didn’t make any trouble?”

“Not what you would call trouble, I guess. But he sure had one sweet row with your giant. Offered to lick him with one hand tied behind his back and all that, with Rad egging Chock on. For, naturally, Rad and Koku don’t get on any too well.”

“I know that. So the dwarf left?”

“Vamoosed in a hurry and as mad as a wet hen. Jardine, too, raised a row when he found Chock was gone, and threatened to bring him back. But I haven’t noticed him doing it. Outside of that, everything is all right.”

“How’s the dirigible coming on?”

“Fine. The work can be rushed if Jardine doesn’t make a lot of changes.”

“He won’t—don’t worry!”

“It sure is lucky he could supply all the oralum plates ready made, and getting a lot of the machinery made up of stock parts saved a lot of time. I shouldn’t wonder, Tom, but that in a few weeks you could fly the _Silver Cloud_.”

“I hope so. Well, I’ll take a look at things in the shop and then be ready for Jardine if he comes back.”

“He will. Don’t worry. How are Mary and the bunch?”

“Fine as silk. Everything went beautifully except that we were pretty nearly killed in a landslide going up and then a crazy gardener at the hotel tried to stab the manager.”

“Outside of that there ain’t no news, I suppose!” chuckled Ned.

“Right, me lad! And now to business!”

Tom found that his men had made good progress during his short absence and he was hopeful of an early test of the great machine, which dwarfed everything else in the big hangar where it was being constructed.

Tom and Ned had supper together and were back in the private office, going over many matters, when there was a step in the corridor outside and a well-known voice exclaimed:

“Well, you’re back! I’m glad of it! There are a number of important matters I want to take up with you, Tom Swift. Here, have a cigar, and we’ll consider some changes.”

“Changes in what, Mr. Jardine?” Tom asked, as he laid aside the cigar offered.

“Changes in the _Silver Cloud_.”

“What is the nature of the changes?” asked Tom patiently.

“Well, here’s one. Now what is that sort of little dog kennel on top of the oralum envelope?” and he pointed to the detailed blue prints on Tom’s desk.

“That is the weather observatory,” Tom said. “An observer there will predict storms so that we may stay out of their course.”

“It isn’t necessary!” said Mr. Jardine, taking his cigar out of his mouth, tossing it in the air and catching it between his lips as it descended. “A little trick I just learned,” he said, with an odd smile. “I could go on the stage, maybe.”

“Maybe!” murmured Ned.

“Why do you consider the weather observatory unnecessary, Mr. Jardine?” asked Tom, and his voice was still patient.

“Because,” was the answer, “my dirigible is to be so strong she will fear no storms, so what’s the use of knowing when they are coming or from where?”

“The _Silver Cloud_ will outride any ordinary storm,” Tom said. “But it is well to be advised even of them. I consider the observatory vital and necessary.”

“I want it enlarged and made into a private cabin for me and my friends,” said Mr. Jardine. “We don’t need an observatory.”

“What’s that?” cried Tom Swift.

“Enlarge that useless weather observatory and make it a private cabin for me and my friends,” insisted the fussy little man. “And here are some other matters. There is too much space given to the crew. Cut it down by half!”

“Forty men can’t get along in any less space,” Tom said.

“Forty men? I’m not going to carry half that crew!” cried Mr. Jardine. “We want more room for passengers so we can make some money out of this. You’ve got to cut off half the crew space.”

“I’ll not do it!” said Tom determinedly.

“And I want one extra big motor put on, just behind the private cabin you are to build for me,” said Mr. Jardine. “In case the other motors fail, I can run the ship myself with the extra big one.”

“It is out of the question,” Tom said, and his voice was losing some of its patience. “I have calculated the power required to move the _Silver Cloud_, and we have ample, and to spare, in the motors already planned. Another would not only be unnecessary but a positive danger, placed where you want it.”

“Well, I’m going to insist on it,” Mr. Jardine said. “I won’t go into any more details now, but I’ll take this up with you in the morning, when you are fresher. I understand you just came in from Mt. Camon.”

“Yes,” Tom said, “I did. But morning isn’t going to change my mind about doing what you request. It is impossible!”

“We’ll talk it over in the morning,” said Mr. Jardine lightly. “Have another cigar! Oh, I forgot—you don’t smoke. I’ll see you later. About that dwarf. I want him taken back on and your giant must let him alone. But we’ll take that up to-morrow.”

He hurried away, lightly humming a song as if there was nothing on his mind and as if the alterations he proposed were as easily made as changing the color to go on a new house.

“What did I tell you?” asked Ned, as he and Tom were alone again.

“He is the limit!” exclaimed Tom, in disgust. “Why, he’s crazy to think those things can be done!”

“He’s a nut, if you ask me!” declared Ned. “Well, you don’t have to do as he says.”

“You bet I don’t!” exclaimed Tom fervently.

Then he and Ned considered other matters, but Tom Swift could not get out of his mind certain worrisome thoughts concerning the big dirigible and the man who had ordered it built and was paying for it. For Ned reported that the money was still coming in from the Jardine company, according to contract.

“You’ll just have to stall him along, Tom,” were Ned’s parting words as he left his chum in the laboratory, for Tom had some experiments to finish in connection with the _Silver Cloud_.

It was late when the young inventor came out of his shop to go home in a small car that was in waiting. As he was about to step from his private office to go to the garage he thought he saw something like the shadow of a man flit across a lighted, open space in front of the laboratory.

“That dwarf!” exclaimed Tom in a whisper as he stopped and listened.

But he heard no sound and was about to proceed when another shadow of the night flitted in front of the doorway. This shadow was taller.

“Jardine!” whispered Tom. “What are he and that dwarf doing around here at this time of night?”