[Ill.u.s.tration: Eradicate Sampson]

"Just how long do you think it will take to make your big disk, son?"

asked Mr. Swift. "That is, if you find any more of the new material."

"The meteorite is already on board a north-bound freight steamer,"

answered Tom, "and ought to get here within the next ten days. It'll require at least three weeks to extract all the X and cast it into shape. Taking everything into consideration, I should say it will be at least six weeks before we can test the device. The matter depends entirely on finding a lot of X in the planet stone. But I'm sure I shall."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "The Meteorite Is Northbound!"]

After dinner the boys went over to the main office of the Swift Construction Company to clear up a number of routine business matters which required Tom's personal attention. He had postponed them for a while to give more time to his new experiments.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Boys Went to the Main Office]

"Now, young fellow, I'm not letting you get away until you've looked over these papers!" declared Ned, pretending to threaten his chum with a yardstick. "I've been after you for a week about 'em!"

Tom dodged and pretended to be scared. "You're right, though," he admitted.

The two worked rapidly. Within an hour the seemingly endless stack of doc.u.ments had shrunk to a few letters and bills. Just as Ned was reaching for one of them the telephone rang in the outer office.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Two Worked Rapidly]

"I'll get it, Tom," his chum said.

"Sit still," replied the young inventor. "I'll switch it to my private phone."

"Tom Swift speaking," he said into the mouthpiece a moment later. "Oh, h.e.l.lo, Mrs. Damon. What's that? But I don't understand. No, there must be some mistake!" A loud click sounded in the receiver and Tom jerked the instrument from his ear.

"What's wrong?" asked Ned, noting his friend's serious face.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Tom Jerked the Instrument From His Ear]

"Mr. Damon's been hurt in an auto accident. For some reason his wife is blaming it on me! Come, we must get to the hospital at once!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Mr. Damon's Been Hurt!"]

CHAPTER IV

A MURDEROUS ATTEMPT

"You drive, Tom," said Ned, for they had come from the Swift home in his car.

"O.K., and hang onto your hat!"

Tom Swift had once driven a fast racing auto of his own design and Ned knew his chum could get the most out of his roadster. In a few seconds the little car reached the gate of the works, where the watchman halted them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Hang on to Your Hat."]

"Oh, an' 'tiz you agin, Misther Swift," said Malligan. "Sure, an' I wouldn't have stopped yez but me orders is to inspect iveryone."

"You did right, Pat," commended Tom, shifting gears. "Good-night."

The Shopton Hospital was located a couple of miles from the Swift plant.

Under the young scientist's guidance the roadster reached its entrance within a few minutes. At the information desk the boys were informed where Mr. Damon had been taken.

[Ill.u.s.tration: They Reached the Hospital]

"Room 302, Mr. Swift. Doctor Chilton is with him now."

Just as the boys reached Room 302 the physician came out. Tom was glad to note that the man was smiling.

"How is he, Doctor?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "How Is He, Doctor?"]

"h.e.l.lo, boys. Mr. Damon will be as good as new in a week or so. Barring a sprained wrist his injuries are trifling--a few bruises and a slight cut. From the way he's blessing everything in the place no one would think he was hurt in the least!"

"I'm relieved," said Tom. "May we see him?"

"Go right in. He'll be glad to have some company. But don't stay too long."

"Bless my operating table, if it isn't Tom and Ned!" exclaimed Mr.

Damon, seeing his visitors enter. The eccentric gentleman was propped up in bed by several pillows. His left arm was in a sling and around his head was a big bandage. "You two got here almost as quickly as I did.

But I'm glad they didn't have to carry you in!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Mr. Damon Was Propped up in Bed]

"Your wife phoned me the news," explained Tom. "We're mighty glad you weren't injured badly. Tell us how it happened."

"It all occurred so suddenly that I hardly know myself. But I know one thing!" Mr. Damon seemed very indignant. "The scoundrels deliberately ran into my car!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "The Scoundrels Ran into My Car!"]

"Did you get their license number?" inquired Ned Newton. "If you did, I'll call the police!"

"No, I couldn't see it in the dark. But I know the villains well enough.

They were my two so-called relatives that I told you about--Jones and Brown! It was spite work for my refusal to tell 'em about your gla.s.s!"

Tom now saw the reason why Mrs. Damon was blaming him for the accident.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "My Two So-Called Relatives."]

"We'll notify the authorities and also do a little detective work ourselves," he said. "We must leave now because the doctor wants you to get some rest."

"Come back again, boys. At any rate, I've escaped that house party!"