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Page 43
"Mary didn't telephone again, did she?" Tom asked his father,
as he stopped at the house to get Mr. Damon, having gone out to
see about getting the electric runabout in readiness.
"No," was the answer. "The telephone hasn't rung since."
"Then, I guess, Mr. Nestor can't have arrived home," said Tom.
"It's a bit queer, his delay, but I'm sure it will be explained
naturally. Only Mary and her mother are alone and, very likely,
they're nervous. I'll telephone to let you know everything is all
right as soon as I get there," Tom promised his father and Mrs.
Baggert as he drove off down the road, partly illuminated by the
new moon.
Rapidly and almost as silently as his Air Scout Tom Swift drove
the speedy car down the highway. It was about three miles from
his home to that of Mary Nestor, and though the distance was
quickly covered, to Tom, at least, the space seemed interminable.
But at length he drove up to the door. There were lights in most
of the rooms, which was unusual at this time of night.
The sound of the wheels had not ceased echoing on the gravel of
the drive before Mary was out on the porch, which she illuminated
by an overhead light.
"Oh, Tom," she cried, "he hasn't come yet, and we are so
worried! Did you see anything of father as you came along?"
"No," was Tom's answer. "But we didn't look for him along the
road, as we came by the turnpike, and he wouldn't travel that
way. But he will be along at any moment now. You must remember
it's quite a walk from my house, and--"
"But he was on his bicycle," said Mary. "We wanted him to go in
the auto, but he said he wanted some exercise after supper, and
he went over on his wheel. He said he'd be right back, but he
hasn't come yet."
"Oh, he will!" said Tom reassuringly. "He may have had a
puncture, or something like that. Bicyclists are just as liable
to them as autoists," he added with a laugh.
"Well, I'm sure I hope it will be all right," sighed Mary. "I
wish you could convince mother to that effect. She's as nervous
as a cat. Come in and tell us what to do."
"Oh, he'll be all right," declared Mr. Damon, adding his
assurances to Tom's.
They found Mrs. Nestor verging on an attack of hysteria. Though
Mr. Nestor often went out during the evening, he seldom stayed
late.
"And he said he'd be right back if he found you weren't at
home, Tom," said Mrs. Nestor. "I'm sure I don't know what can be
keeping him!"
"It's too soon to get worried yet," replied the young inventor
cheerfully. "I'll wait a little while, and then, if he doesn't
come, Mr. Damon and I will go back over the road and look
carefully. He may have had a slight fall--sprained his ankle or
something like that--and not be able to ride. We came by the
turnpike, a road he probably wouldn't take on his wheel. He's all
right, you may be sure of that."
Tom tried to speak reassuringly, but somehow, he did not
believe himself. He was beginning to think more and more how
strange it was that Mr. Nestor did not return home.
"We'll wait just a bit longer before setting out on a search,"
he told Mary and her mother. "But I'm sure he will be along any
minute now."
They went into the library, Mary and her mother, Tom and Mr.
Damon. And there they sat waiting. Tom tried to entertain Mary
and Mrs. Nestor with an account of his trial trip in the Air
Scout, but the two women scarcely heard what he said.
All sat watching the clock, and looking from that to the
telephone, which they tried to hope would ring momentarily and
transmit to them good news. Then they would listen for the sound
of footsteps or bicycle wheels on the gravel walk. But they heard
nothing, and as the seconds were ticked off on the clock the
nervousness of Mrs. Nestor increased, until she exclaimed:
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