Tom Swift and His Photo Telephone - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
"What's that, Tom?" asked his friend.
"I heard you bless something at last--the first time since I came in."
"Oh!" and Mr. Damon laughed. "Well, Tom, I haven't been blessing things lately--that's a fact. I haven't had the heart for it.
There are too many business complications. I wish I'd never met this Peters."
"So do I," said Tom. "My motor boat would not have been damaged then."
"Did he do that, Tom?"
"He certainly did, and then he accused me of being at fault."
"That would be just like him. Tell me about it, Tom."
When the young inventor finished the story of the collision Mr.
Damon sat silent for a moment. Then he remarked slowly:
"That's just like Peters. A big bluff--that's what he is. I wish I'd discovered that fact sooner--I'd be money in pocket. But I allowed myself to be deceived by his talk about big profits. At first he seemed like a smart business man, and he certainly had fine recommendations. But I am inclined to believe, now, that the recommendations were forged."
"What did he do to you, Mr. Damon?" asked Tom, with ready sympathy.
"It's too complicated to go into details over, Tom, but to make a long story short, he got me to invest nearly all my fortune in some enterprises that, I fear, are doomed to failure. And if they do fail, I'll be a ruined man."
"No, you won't!" exclaimed Tom. "That's one reason why I came here to-day. Father told me to offer you all the ready money you needed to get out of your trouble. How much do you need, Mr. Damon?"
"Bless my collar b.u.t.ton! That's like your father, Tom," and now Mr. Damon seemed more like his old self. "Bless my shoes, a man never knows who his real friends are until trouble comes. I can't say how I thank you and your father, Tom. But I'm not going to take advantage of him."
"It wouldn't be taking any advantage of him, Mr. Damon. He has money lying idle, and he'd like to have you use it."
"Well, Tom, I might use it, if I had only myself to think about.
But there's no use in throwing good money after bad. If I took yours now this fellow Peters would only get it, and that would be the last of it."
"No, Tom, thank you and your father just the same, but I'll try to weather the storm a bit longer myself. Then, if I do go down I won't drag anybody else with me. I'll hang on to the wreck a bit longer. The storm may blow over, or--or something may happen to this fellow Peters."
"Has he really got you in his grip, Mr. Damon?"
"He has, and, to a certain extent, it's my own fault. I should have been suspicious of him. And now, Tom, let me give you a further word of warning. You heard me say to steer clear of this Peters?"
"Yes, and I'm going to. But I'm going to make him pay for damaging my boat, if I possibly can."
"Maybe it would be wiser not to try that, Tom. I tell you he's a tricky man. And one thing more. I have heard that this man Peters makes a specialty of organizing companies to take up new inventions."
"Is that so?" asked Tom, interestedly.
"Yes, but that's as far as it goes. Peters gets the invention, and the man, out of whose brain it came, gets nothing."
"In other words, he swindles them?"
"That's it, Tom. If not in one way, then in another. He cheats them out of the profits of their inventions. So I want to warn you to be on the lookout."
"Don't worry," said Tom. "Peters will get nothing from my father or me. We'll be on our guard. Not that I think he will try it, but it's just as well to be warned. I didn't like him from the moment he ran into me, and, now that I know what he has done to you, I like him still less. He won't get anything from me!"
"I'm glad to hear you say so, Tom. I wish he'd gotten nothing out of me."
"Are you sure you won't let my father help you, financially, Mr.
Damon?"
"No, Tom, at least not for the present. I'm going to make another fight to hold on to my fortune. If I find I can't do it alone, then I'll call on you. I'm real glad you called. Bless my shoestring! I feel better now."
"I'm glad of it," laughed Tom, and he saw that his friend was in a better state of mind, as his "blessings" showed.
Tom remained for a little longer, talking to Mr. Damon, and then took his leave, flying back home in the airs.h.i.+p.
"Gen'man t' see yo', Ma.s.sa Tom," announced Eradicate, as he helped Tom wheel the monoplane back into the shed.
"Is that so, Rad? Where is he?"
"Settin' in th' library. Yo' father am out, so I asted him in dere."
"That's right, Rad. Who is he, do you know?"
"No, sah, Ma.s.sa Tom, I doan't. He sh.o.r.e does use a pow'ful nice perfume on his pocket hanky, though. Yum-yum!"
"Perfume!" exclaimed Tom, his mind going back to the day he had had the trouble with Mr. Peters. "Is he a big, red-faced man, Rad?"
"No, sah, Ma.s.sa Tom. He's a white-faced, skinny man."
"Then it can't be Peters," mused Tom. "I guess perhaps it's that lawyer I wrote to about bringing suit to get back what it cost me to have the Kilo fixed. I'll see him at once. Oh, by the way, it isn't Mr. Grant Halling; is it? The gentleman who got tangled up in our aerials with his airs.h.i.+p? Is it he?"
"No, sah, Ma.s.sa Tom. 'Tain't him."
"I thought perhaps he had gotten into more trouble," mused Tom, as he took off his airs.h.i.+p "togs," and started for the house. For Mr.
Halling had called for his repaired airs.h.i.+p some time ago, and had promised to pay Tom another and more conventional visit, some future day.
Tom did not know the visitor whom he greeted in the library a little later. The man, as Eradicate had said, was rather pale of face, and certainly he was not very fleshy.
"Mr. Tom Swift, I think?" said the man, rising and holding out his hand.
"That's my name. I don't believe I know you, though."
"No, I haven't your reputation," said the man, with a laugh that Tom did not like. "We can't all be great inventors like you," and, somehow, Tom liked the man less than before, for he detected an undertone of sneering patronage in the words. Tom disliked praise, and he felt that this was not sincere.
"I have called on a little matter of business," went on the man.
"My name is Harrison Boylan, and I represent Mr. Shallock Peters."
Instinctively Tom stiffened. Receiving a call from a representative of the man against whom Mr. Damon had warned him only a short time before was a strange coincidence, Tom thought.
"You had some little accident, when your motor boat and that of Mr. Peters collided, a brief time ago; did you not?" went on Mr.