Tom Swift and His Air Scout; Or, Uncle Sam's Mastery of the Sky
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Victor Appleton was a popular author in the 20th century, but Victor was not a single individual. instead, that name was used as a pseudonym by the Stratemeyer Syndicate to put out the popular Tom Swift series.
affair. Many of Tom's men were treated at the dispensary, and, as accidents were of more or less frequent occurrence at the works, the young inventor had frequent occasions to call up the place. "Mr. Nestor would ask to be taken there, as it's nearest his home−−that is, if he was able to speak," Tom said to Mr. Damon, who agreed with him. There was a little delay in getting the hospital on the wire, but when Tom had it, and was talking to the superintendent, he was rather surprised, to tell the
were some stumps and some second growth trees. There were also a number of evergreens−−Christmas trees Jackson called them. And this was the only open place for miles, the surrounding country being a densely wooded one. There did not appear to be a house or other building in sight where they might seek help. "But maybe we can make the repairs ourselves and keep on," the lad thought. With practiced eye he picked out a smooth, grassy, level spot, in the midst of scattered evergreen trees, and there
before." CHAPTER XXI. THE DESERTED CABIN For several seconds the young inventor remained bending over the queer marks in that little sandy path of the lonely field in the midst of the silent woods. Jackson watched him curiously, and then Tom straightened up, exclaiming as he did so: "I have it! Now I know where it was! I saw marks like these the night Mr. Nestor disappeared. Mr. Damon and I noticed the marks in the dust on the road the time we made the forced landing the first night we tried out
!" he called in sufficiently vigorous tones to have awakened an ordinary sleeper. Put there was no answer, and as the shadows of the night began to fall, the place took on a most lonely aspect. "Let's go up and knock−−or go in if the door's open," suggested Tom. "We can't lose any more time, if we're to get out of here before night." "Go ahead," said Jackson, and together they went to the cabin door. "Locked!" exclaimed Tom, as he saw a padlock attached to a chain. It appeared to be fastened
suspicion, for an instant, that there was blood on the files, and that it might prove to be the blood of Mr. Nestor. But the satisfaction that showed on Tom's face did not seem to indicate such dire possibilities as these. "What is it?" asked Jackson, unable to guess at what Tom was looking through the powerful glass. "What do you see?" "Metal filings on the grooves of these files," said the young inventor. "And, unless I'm greatly mistaken, the particles of filings are from the case of my