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Chapter 12 The Men in the Auto

Tom first made sure that the package containing the model was stillsafely in place back of his saddle on the motor-cycle. Finding itthere he next put his hand in his pocket to see that he had thepapers.
"They're all right," spoke Tom aloud. "I didn't know but what thatchap might have worked a pickpocket game on me. I'm glad I didn'tmeet him after dark. Well, it's a good thing it's no worse. I wonderif he tried to get my machine away from me? Don't believe he'd knowhow to ride it if he did."
Tom wheeled his motor-cycle to a hard side-path along the old road,and jumped into the saddle. He worked the pedals preparatory toturning on the gasolene and spark to set the motor in motion. As hethrew forward the levers, having acquired what he thought was thenecessary momentum, he was surprised that no explosion followed. Themotor seemed "dead."
"That's queer," he thought, and he began to pedal more rapidly. "Italways used to start easily. Maybe it doesn't like this sandyroad."
It was hard work sending the heavy machine along by "leg power," andonce more, when he had acquired what he thought was sufficientspeed, Tom turned on the power. But no explosions followed, and insome alarm he jumped to the ground.
"Something's wrong," he said aloud. "That tramp must have damagedthe machine when he yanked it so." Tom went quickly over thedifferent parts. It did not take him long to discover what thetrouble was. One of the wires, leading from the batteries to themotor, which wire served to carry the current of electricity thatexploded the mixture of air and gasolene, was missing. It had beenbroken off close to the battery box and the spark plug.
"That's what Happy Harry did!" exclaimed Tom. "He pulled that wireoff when he yanked my machine. That's what he meant by hoping I'dget to Albany. That fellow was no tramp. He was disguised, and up tosome game. And he knows something about motor-cycles, too, or henever would have taken that wire. I'm stalled, now, for I haven'tgot another piece. I ought to have brought some. I'll have to pushthis machine until I get to town, or else go back home."
The young inventor looked up and down the lonely road, undecidedwhat to do. To return home meant that he would be delayed in gettingto Albany, for he would lose a day. If he pushed on to Pompville hemight be able to get a bit of wire there.
Tom decided that was his best plan, and plodded on through the thicksand. He had not gone more than a quarter of a mile, every stepseeming harder than the preceding one, when he heard, from the woodsclose at his left hand, a gun fired. He jumped so that he nearly letthe motor-cycle fall over, for a wild idea came into his head thatthe tramp had shot at him. With a quickly-beating heart the ladlooked about him.
"I wonder if that was Happy Harry?" he mused.
There was a crackling in the bushes and Tom, wondering what he mightdo to protect himself, looked toward the place whence the noiseproceeded. A moment later a hunter stepped into view. The mancarried a gun and wore a canvas suit, a belt about his waist beingfilled with cartridges.
"Hello!" he exclaimed pleasantly, Then, seeing a look of alarm onthe lad's face, he went on:
"I hope I didn't shoot in your direction, young man; did I?"
"No--no, sir," replied the youthful inventor, who had hardlyrecovered his composure. "I heard your gun, and I imagined--"
"Did you think you had been shot? You must have a very vividimagination, for I fired in the air."
"No, I didn't exactly think that," replied Tom, "but I just had anencounter with an ugly tramp, and I feared he might be using me fora target."
"Is that so. I hadn't noticed any tramps around here, and I've beenin these woods nearly all day. Did he harm you?"
"No, not me, but my motor-cycle," and the lad explained.
"Pshaw! That's too bad!" exclaimed the hunter. "I wish I couldsupply you with a bit of wire, but I haven't any. I'm just walkingabout, trying my new gun."
"I shouldn't think you'd find anything to shoot this time of year,"remarked Tom.
"I don't expect to," answered the hunter, who had introduced himselfas Theodore Duncan. "But I have just purchased a new gun, and Iwanted to try it. I expect to do considerable hunting this fall, andso I'm getting ready for it."
"Do you live near here?"
"Well, about ten miles away, on the other side of Lake Carlopa, butI am fond of long walks in the woods. If you ever get to Waterford Iwish you'd come and see me, Mr. Swift. I have heard of your father."
"I will, Mr. Duncan; but if I don't get something to repair mymachine with I'm not likely to get anywhere right away."
"Well, I wish I could help you, but I haven't the least ingenuitywhen it comes to machinery. Now if I could help you track down thattramp--"
"Oh, no, thank you, I'd rather not have anything more to do withhim."
"If I caught sight of him now," resumed the hunter, "I fancy I couldmake him halt, and, ............

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