CHAPTER XVII.

MR. SWIFT IN DESPAIR

Tom was thinking of many things as his speedy machine carried him mile after mile nearer home.  By noon he was over half way on his journey, and he stopped in a small village for his dinner.

“I think I’ll make inquiries of the police here, to see if they caught sight of those men,” decided Tom as he left the restaurant.  “Though I am inclined to believe they kept on to Albany, or some large city, where they have their headquarters.  They will want to make use of dad’s model as soon as possible, though what they will do with it I don’t know.”  He tried to telephone to his father, but could get no connection, as the wire was being repaired.

The police force of the place where Tom had stopped for lunch was like the town itself—­small and not of much consequence.  The chief constable, for he was not what one could call a chief of police, had heard of the matter from the alarm sent out in all directions from Dunkirk, where Mr. Blackford lived.

“You don’t mean to tell me you’re the young man who was chloroformed and robbed!” exclaimed the constable, looking at Tom as if he doubted his word.

“I’m the young man,” declared our hero.  “Have you seen anything of the thieves?”

“Not a thing, though I’ve instructed all my men to keep a sharp lookout for a red automobile, with three scoundrels in it.  My men are to make an arrest on sight.”

“How many men have you?”

“Two,” was the rather surprising answer; “but one has to work on a farm daytimes, so I ain’t really got but one in what you might call active service.”

Tom restrained a desire to laugh.  At any rate, the aged constable meant well.

“One of my men seen a red automobile, a little while before you come in my office,” went on the official, “but it wasn’t the one wanted, ’cause a young woman was running it all alone.  It struck me as rather curious that a woman would trust herself all alone in one of them things; wouldn’t it you?”

“Oh, no, women and young ladies often operate them,” said Tom.

“I should think you’d find one handier than the two-wheeled apparatus you have out there,” went on the constable, indicating the motor-cycle, which Tom had stood up against a tree.

“I may have one some day,” replied the young inventor.  “But I guess I’ll be moving on now.  Here’s my address, in case you hear anything of those men, but I don’t imagine you will.”

“Me either.  Fellows as slick as them are won’t come back this way and run the chance of being arrested by my men.  I have two on duty nights,” he went on proudly, “besides myself, so you see we’re pretty well protected.”

Tom thanked him for the trouble he had taken, and was soon on his way again.  He swept on along the quiet country roads anxious for the time when he could consult with his father over what would be the best course to take.