CHAPTER XI

A DAY OFF

Tom Swift pondered long and intently over what his father had said to him. He sat for several minutes in his private office, after the aged inventor had pa.s.sed out, reviewing in his mind the talk just finished.

"I wonder," said Tom slowly, "if any of the new men could have obtained work here for the purpose of furthering that plot the lieutenant suspects? I wonder if that could be true?"

And the more Tom thought of it, the more he was convinced that such a thing was at least possible.

"I must make a close inspection, and weed out any suspicious characters," he decided, "though I need every man I have working now, to get the Mars finished in time. Yes, I must look into this."

Tom had reached a point in his work where he could leave much to his helpers. He had several good foremen, and, with his father to take general supervision over more important details, the young inventor had more time to himself. Of course he did not lay too many burdens on his father's shoulders since Mr. Swift's health was not of the best.

But Tom's latest idea, the aerial warship, was so well on toward completion that his presence was not needed in that shop more than two or three times a day.

"When I'm not there I'll go about in the other shops, and sort of size up the situation," he decided. "I may be able to get a line on some of those plotters, if there are any here."

Lieutenant Marbury had departed for a time, to look after some personal matters, but he was to return inside of a week, when it was hoped to give the aerial warship its first real test in flight, and under some of the conditions that it would meet with in actual warfare.

As Tom was about to leave his office, to put into effect his new resolution to make a casual inspection of the other shops, he met Koku, the giant, coming in. Koku's hands and face were black with oil and machine filings.

"Well, what have you been doing?" Tom wanted to know. "Did you have an accident?" For Koku had no knowledge of machinery, and could not even be trusted to tighten up a simple nut by himself. But if some one stood near him, and directed him how to apply his enormous strength, Koku could do more than several machines.

"No accident, Master," he replied. "I help man lift that hammer-hammer thing that pounds so. It get stuck!"

"What, the hammer of the drop forger?" cried Tom. "Was that out of order again?"

"Him stuck," explained Koku simply.

There was an automatic trip-hammer in one of the shops, used for pounding out drop forgings, and this hammer seemed to take especial delight in getting out of order. Very often it jammed, or "stuck," as Koku described it, and if the hammer could not be forced back on the channel or upright guide-plates, it meant that it must be taken apart, and valuable time lost. Once Koku had been near when the hammer got out of order, and while the workmen were preparing to dismantle it, the giant seized the big block of steel, and with a heave of his mighty shoulders forced it back on the guides.

"And is that what you did this time?" asked Tom.

"Yes, Master. Me fix hammer," Koku answered. "I get dirty, I no care.

Man say I no can fix. I show him I can!"

"What man said that?"

"Man who run hammer. Ha! I lift him by one finger! He say he no like to work on hammer. He want to work on airship. I tell him I tell you, maybe you give him job--he baby! Koku can work hammer. Me fix it when it get stuck."

"Well, maybe you know what you're talking about, but I don't," said Tom, with a pleasant smile at his big helper. "Come on, Koku, we'll go see what it all means."

"Koku work hammer, maybe?" asked the giant hope fully.

"Well, I'll see," half promised Tom. "If it's going to get out of gear all the while it might pay me to keep you at it so you could get it back in place whenever it kicked up a fuss, and so save time. I'll see about it."

Koku led the way to the shop where the triphammer was installed. It was working perfectly now, as Tom could tell by the thundering blows it struck. The man operating it looked up as Tom approached, and, at a gesture from the young inventor, shut off the power.

"Been having trouble here?" asked Tom, noting that the workman was one of the new hands he had hired.

"Yes, sir, a little," was the respectful answer. "This hammer goes on a strike every now and then, and gets jammed. Your giant there forced it back into place, which is more than I could do with a big bar for a lever. He sure has some muscle."

"Yes," agreed Tom, "he's pretty strong. But what's this you said about wanting to give up this job, and go on the airship construction."

The man turned red under his coat of grime.

"I didn't intend him to repeat that to you, Mr. Swift," he said. "I was a little put out at the way this hammer worked. I lose so much time at it that I said I'd like to be transferred to the airship department.

I've worked in one before. But I'm not making a kick," he added quickly.

"Work is too scarce for that."

"I understand," said Tom. "I have been thinking of making a change.

Koku seems to like this hammer, and knows how to get it in order once it gets off the guides. You say you have had experience in airship construction?"

"Yes, sir. I've worked on the engines, and on the planes."

"Know anything about dirigible balloons?"

"Yes, I've worked on them, too, but the engineering part is my specialty. I'm a little out of my element on a trip-hammer."

"I see. Well, perhaps I'll give you a trial. Meanwhile you might break Koku in on operating this machine. If I transfer you I'll put him on this hammer."

"Thank you, Mr. Swift! I'll show him all I know about it. Oh, there goes the hammer again!" he exclaimed, for, as he started it up, as Tom turned away, the big piece of steel once more jammed on the channel-plates.

"Me fix!" exclaimed the giant eagerly, anxious for a chance to exhibit his great strength.

"Wait a minute!" exclaimed Tom. "I want to get a look at that machine."

He inspected it carefully before he signaled for Koku to force the hammer back into place. But, if Tom saw anything suspicious, he said nothing. There was, however, a queer look on his face as he turned aside, and he murmured to himself, as he walked away:

"So you want to be transferred to the airship department, do you? Well, we'll see about that. We'll see."

Tom had more problems to solve than those of making an aerial warship that would be acceptable to the United States Government.

Ned Newton called on his chum that evening. The two talked of many things, gradually veering around to the subject uppermost in Tom's mind--his new aircraft.

"You're thinking too much of that." Ned warned him. "You're as bad as the time you went for your first flight."

"I suppose I am," admitted Tom. "But the success of the Mars means a whole lot to me. And that's something I nearly forgot. I've got to go out to the shop now. Want to come along, Ned?"

"Sure, though I tell you that you're working too hard--burning the electric light at both ends."

"This is just something simple," Tom said. "It won't take long."

He went out, followed by his chum.

"But this isn't the way to the airship shed," objected the young bank clerk, as he noted in which direction Tom was leading him.