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Damon had said, it was well known, and Centerford was the nearest large city.
"I can just about see how it happened," said Tom. "They ran Mr. Nestor down, and stopped to pick him up after they heard his cries for help.
And the Alexian Hospital was the first one they thought of. We should have called that up first."
But once more disappointment awaited the young inventor and his friend.
Word came back over the wire that no accident case, which bore any resemblance to Mary's father, had been brought in.
"Well, I'm stumped!" exclaimed Tom. "What shall we do now, Mr. Damon?"
"Much as I dislike it," said the eccentric man who was too much worried, now, to do any "blessing," which was his favorite expression, "I think we ought to communicate with Mrs. Nestor. She will be very anxious."
"I guess we'll have to," said Tom. "But wait! I'll call up my house first, and see if he has gone back there."
But Mr. Nestor had not done this, and Mrs. Baggert, who answered the telephone, said Mary had been calling frantically for Tom, as her mother was now on the verge of complete collapse.
"No help for it," said Tom, ruefully. "We've got to tell 'em we have no news, and can't find him."
And, hearing this, Mrs. Nestor did collapse, and a doctor was called in.
Thereupon Tom, who with Mr. Damon had gone back to the Nestor home, took charge of matters, sending for Mrs. Nestor's sister to come and stay with her and take charge of the house.
"You'll need some one to stay with you," he told Mary.
"Yes, I shall," she admitted, trying bravely not to give way to her emotion. "Oh, Tom, I wish you could stay, too. I'm sure something dreadful must have happened to poor father. Please stay and help us find him!"
"I will," Tom promised. "As soon as your aunt comes I'll take Mr. Damon home, and then I'll give the rest of my time to you."
And this Tom did, sending word home that he would remain at the Nestor's all night and part of the next day.
Tom got but little sleep that night. He communicated with the police and saw to it that a general alarm was sent out. He called up all hospitals within a radius of fifty miles, but could get no trace of any injured man whose description resembled that of Mr. Nestor.
"What can have happened?" asked Mary tearfully.
"Well, the way I figure it out is this," said Tom. "Your father left my house soon after Mr. Damon and I did in the Air Scout. Mr. Nestor was riding his bicycle, and he must have been run into by an automobile.
That is how his watch was damaged and that was when Mr. Damon and I heard the cries for help."
"Oh, do you think he was badly hurt?" asked Mary.
"No, I don't," and Tom answered truthfully. "The voice sounded as though he was in pain, certainly, but it was strong and vigorous, and not at all as though he was dangerously hurt."
"And what do you think happened to him after he was hurt?" asked Mary.
"The autoists took him away," decided Tom. "In fact, we heard the machine go, but of course we never connected the call for help and what followed with your father. The autoists took him away."
"Where?"
"I should say to some hospital. Perhaps a private one of which we know nothing, and which may be near here. I'll get a full list from the Board of Health to-morrow. Or it may be that the autoists, seeing the damage they had done, took your father to the home of one of themselves, and summoned a doctor there."
"Why would they do that?"
"Well, they may have been so frightened they didn't realize what they were doing, or they may have thought he would get better treatment in a private house, if he were not badly injured, than if he should be taken to a hospital. It may have been that one of the persons in the auto was a physician, and wished to try his own skill on the man he had hurt."
"You make me feel more comfortable, Tom," said Mary. "But, even supposing all this, why couldn't they telephone to us that my father was all right? He always carries an identification card with him, and if he were unconscious it could be ascertained who he was."
"That's what I can't understand," said Tom frankly. "It puzzles me. But we'll find him--never fear!"
And so he kept on with his telephone inquiries, while a physician and her sister ministered to Mrs. Nestor. The night was very, very long, and no good news came in.
CHAPTER XVII
SILENT SAM
Slowly the dawn broke through the mists of darkness, and made the earth light. The sun came straggling in through cracks in the shutters in the home of Mr. Nestor, the gradually increasing gleam paling the electric lights, in the glare of which Tom Swift, Mary, and her aunt sat, waiting for some word of the missing man. But none came.
"What shall we do now?" asked Mary, as she looked at Tom.
"Oh, there's lots to do," he said, trying to make his voice sound cheerful. "We'll be busy all day. I sent word to have one of my touring cars ready to hurry to any part of the country the moment we should get word from your father."
"And do you think we shall get word, Tom?" the girl went on wistfully.
"Of course we shall!" he cried. "Word may come in at any time. Now get ready, eat a good breakfast, and then you can go with me as soon as we hear anything definite. Come, we'll have breakfast!"
"I can't eat a thing!" protested Mary.
"Oh, yes you can," said her aunt, who was a cheerful sort of person.
"I'll see about getting something for you and Mr. Swift, and see that your mother is all right."
She left the room to give orders to the servant about the meal, and returned to say that Mrs. Nestor was sleeping quietly. She had been given a sedative. Mary managed to eat a little, and she gave Tom the address of several friends who were called up in the vain hope that, somehow, Mr. Nestor might have gone to see them.
"Tom, what do you really think has happened?" asked Mary again, as they sat facing one another in the library, during a respite from the telephone.
Tom Swift repeated, to the girl his theory of what had happened with an a.s.sumption of confidence he did not altogether feel.
His prediction of a speedy end to the suspense did not come true that day, nor for many days. No news was heard of Mr. Nestor. After the first day, when there was no information and when no reports came of any one of his description having been hurt in an automobile accident or having been taken to any hospital, the police started an energetic search.
The authorities in all near-by cities were notified, and all thought of keeping from the public what had happened was given over. Tom's story, of how he and Mr. Damon had heard the cry for help on the lonely meadow, was printed in the papers, though the young inventor did not say that he had been out trying his new aeroplane. That was a detail not needed in the finding of Mr. Nestor.
But Mary's father was not found. The mystery regarding his disappearance deepened, and there was no trace of him after he had left Tom's house that eventful evening. Persons living along the roads he might have taken in riding his bicycle were questioned, but they had seen nothing of him, nor were they aware of any accident. Tom's testimony and that of Mr. Damon was all the clew there was.
"I don't believe he's dead!" stoutly declared the young inventor, when this dire possibility had been hinted at. "I believe the persons who were responsible for the accident are afraid to reveal his whereabouts until he recovers from possible injuries. You'll see! Mr. Nestor will come back safe!"
And, somehow, though her mother was skeptical, Mary believed what Tom said.
The search was kept up, but without result, and Tom aided all he could.
But there was not much he could do. The police and other authorities were at a total loss.