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Page 30
But he wanted to capture the man, if possible, before he
reached the bog, and, to this end, Tom increased his speed to
such good end that presently, on the firm ground that bordered
the swamp, Tom was almost within reaching distance of the
stranger.
But the latter kept up running, and dodged and turned so that
Tom could not lay hands on him. Suddenly, turning around a clump
of trees the fleeing man headed straight for a veritable mud hole
that lay directly in his path. It was part of the swamp--the most
liquid part of the bog and a home of frogs and lizards.
Too late, the man, who was evidently unaware of the proximity
of the swamp, saw his danger. His further flight was cut off by
the mud hole, but it was too late to turn back. Tom Swift was at
his heels now, and seeing that it was impossible to grab the man,
Tom did the next best thing. He stuck out his foot and tripped
him, and tripped him right on the edge of the mud hole, so that
the man fell in with a big splash, the muddy water flying all
around, some even over the young inventor.
For a moment the man disappeared completely beneath the
surface, for the mud hole was rather deep just where Tom had
thrown him. Then there was another violent agitation of the
surface, and a very woebegone and muddy face was raised from the
slough, followed by the rest of the figure of the man. Slowly he
got to his feet, mud and water dripping from him. He cleared his
face by rubbing his hands over it, not that it made his
countenance clean, but it removed masses of mud from his eyes,
nose, and mouth, so that he could see and speak, though his first
operation was to gasp for breath.
"What--what are you doin'?" he demanded of Tom, and as the man
opened his mouth to speak Tom was aware of a glitter, which
disclosed the 'fact that the man had a large front tooth of gold.
"What am I doing?" repeated Tom. "I think it's up to you to
answer that question, not me. What are you doing?"
"You--you tripped me into this mud hole!" declared the man.
"I did, yes; because you were trespassing on my property, and
ran away instead of stopping when I told you to," went on Tom.
"Who are you and what are you doing? What were you doing with
Bower at my shop?"
"Nothin'! I wasn't doin' nothin'!"
"Well, we'll inquire into that. I want to see what you have in
your pockets before I believe you. Come on out!"
"You haven't any right to go through my pockets!" blustered the
stranger.
"Oh, haven't I? Well, I'm going to take the right. Jackson--
Koku--just see that he doesn't get away. We'll take him back and
search him," and Tom motioned to his chief machinist and the
giant, who had reached the scene, to take charge of the man. But
Koku was sufficient for this purpose, and the mud-bespattered
stranger seemed to shrink as he saw the big creature approach
him. There was no question of running away after that.
"Bring him along," ordered Tom, and Koku, taking a tight grip
on the man by the slack of his garments behind, walked him along
toward the office, the mud and water splashing and oozing from
his shoes at every step.
"Now you look here!" the gold-toothed man cried, as he was
forced along, "you ain't got any right to detain me. I ain't done
nothin'!" And each time he spoke the bright tooth in his mouth
glittered in the sun.
"I don't know whether you've done anything or not," said Tom.
"I'm going to take you back and see what you and Bower have to
say. He may know something about this."
"If he does I don't believe he'll tell," said Jackson.
"Why not?" asked Tom, quickly.
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