“Gentlemen,” and Tom Swift put a peculiar emphasis on the word, “I repeat—what is your answer now?”
“Oh, the rascal! He’s got us beat!” lamented the fat man. “Let’s make terms with him.”
“Make terms, nothing!” sneered Mr. X. “Those are nothing but lightning bugs! It’s all a clever bluff!”
“Oh, is it?” asked Tom.
Again he stood in front of a window and, as he had done before, though unseen by the plotters, Tom raised and flashed the pocket electric torch he had brought with him. Once more, in answer to his signal, came more flashes from without. Tom’s friends were on the alert.
“I guess that settles it,” Mr. X was forced to admit. “Turn on the light here, Tom Swift, and we’ll talk this matter over again.”
“No!” exclaimed the young inventor in ringing tones. “I’ll do the talking now—you’ll do the listening. I’m in a position to dictate my terms, and I’ll do it. I owe you something for the manner in which you had me and my manager kidnapped and brought to this place, also for what your tool Greenbaum did.”
“Now listen here!” broke in Mr. B, his whole, fat body quivering with fear as Tom switched on the main light again. “That Greenbaum fellow, he went farther than we told him to. We never told him to try to blow you up, and we immediately discharged him when we learned of it.”
“That is correct,” assented Mr. X. “We do not countenance deeds of violence. Greenbaum, whom we have since discharged, went beyond his instructions—far beyond. But he was half crazy.”
“Half crazy?” inquired Tom. “He always impressed me as being very level-headed—too much so.”
“Still he was not right in his head,” said Mr. B. “He lost a small fortune in a moving picture investment, and when he learned your invention might spell the ruin of that industry, so he could never recoup his losses, he went to desperate lengths.”
“I should say he did,” agreed Tom, with a grim smile, as he remembered his ruined laboratory and the pains he had suffered. “But I will exact payment for what he did.”
“You would be within your rights there,” said Mr. X.
“And for the indignities Mr. Newton and I suffered at the hands of Snogg, Janner and Torpy,” went on the young inventor. “I suppose you will not deny that they acted for you?” he suggested.
“No, they were our agents,” admitted Mr. B. “But we told them to treat you with respect, merely to hold you until we could get in touch with you. It was a mistake that Mr. Newton was kidnapped. We wanted you held. What terms do you offer?”
“I offer no terms at all. I demand unconditional surrender!” exclaimed Tom. “If you don’t agree to that, I propose, to use a war term, to move immediately upon you. In other words, I’ll give the signal for your arrest.”
“Don’t! Don’t!” begged Mr. B shakingly.
“We are here to make terms, Mr. Swift,” said a third masked man.
“What do you want us to do?” asked Mr. X, and there was no more threat or defiance in his voice. “You can name your own terms.”
“In the first place,” stipulated Tom, “I want you all to unmask. I don’t care to do business with men I can’t see. You might as well,” he added, as he saw them hesitate. “If you’re arrested you will be known.”
“Gentlemen, he is right!” said Mr. B. “Unmask!”
He set the example by doffing the black silk that covered the upper part of his face. One after another the five followed and Tom gasped in surprise when he saw who the men were. They were all important figures in the theatrical and moving picture business.
“So that’s the combination I’ve been up against!” exclaimed the young inventor, as he looked from one face to another. “I suppose I should consider it quite an honor to have you against me.”
“In a way, yes,” admitted the one still to be designated as Mr. X. “You are a mighty lucky and clever young man. Now we have met your first stipulation, what is the next?”
“The next,” stated Tom, “is that you must sign a paper which I shall draw up, admitting your share in all that has been done against me and agreeing that all persecutions shall cease.”
“Yes, that is no more than fair under the circumstances,” agreed Mr. X.
“But you won’t make that paper public—with our names on it, will you?” asked Mr. B.
“Not if you let me entirely alone,” promised Tom. “But I want it to protect myself. Hands off and that paper remains in my safe.”
“Draw it up and we’ll sign it,” agreed Mr. X, after a hasty conference in one corner with his colleagues. “But what about the men you have posted out in the woods? Will they come in here and arrest us?”
“Not unless I give the signal,” Tom answered. “It will not be given when you have signed that paper and I am allowed to walk out of here unmolested.”
“Oh, let him go! Let him go!” begged Mr. B. “He’ll have our watches and pocketbooks next! Let him go!”
Tom smiled grimly as he drew up the paper. He had the plotters entirely at his mercy. One after another they affixed their names to the document, and as he folded it and put it in his pocket, Mr. B said:
“Perhaps we can still talk business?”
“What do you mean?” asked Tom.
“Well, we made you an offer of a million dollars for the complete rights to your talking-picture invention that we might destroy it to save our business from ruin. You saw fit to decline that and you got the better of us in what followed. Now, since it seems that the invention is going on the market, the next best thing for us to do is to buy into the exploiting company and have a share in the profits. I suppose there will be profits?” he asked, with a somewhat quizzical smile. He was a big business man, as Tom knew.
“I hope there will be,” Tom answered.
“Well, now that we’ve backed down—because you made us and for no other reason,” went on Mr. B, “will you listen to another offer?”
“What is it?”
“We’ll give you a million for a half share in the invention.”
“Nothing doing!” exclaimed Tom, getting ready to leave.
“A million and a half!” offered Mr. B.
“Your figure is too low,” replied Tom, who began to see daylight ahead for Ned Newton’s financial embarrassment. “Why, you movie men put a million dollars in a single feature picture.”
“Oh, quit being pikers!” put in another magnate. “Say two millions and be done with it! Come, what about two, young man?”
Tom made some rapid calculations. Two million dollars was a tempting offer for half an interest in the invention. He knew it would be on the market a long time before he would take in that much. Also he must have capital to manufacture the machines. But he still had a card to play.
“I can’t accept that offer,” he said, still moving toward the door.
“Oh, let’s get this over with!” exclaimed Mr. X who, evidently, was used to having his own way. “We’ll give you three millions for a half interest, Tom Swift, let you remain in virtual control, and we’ll start manufacturing as soon as you demonstrate that it’s a success. What do you say to that—three millions?”
“And that’s our limit,” put in another of the men, a tall, lean New Englander.
For a moment Tom Swift did not reply. To a casual observer it might have looked as though he was about to refuse that offer. He had made up his mind, but he did not want to seem too hasty. It was well that these men should know he was their master when it came to plotting and dickering.
“Well, how about it?” asked Mr. B anxiously. “Come, Mr. Tom Swift. Three millions aren’t to be sneezed at.”
“And I don’t intend to sneeze!” said Tom suddenly, with a little chuckle. “Gentlemen, I accept your offer. Put it in writing and we’ll call the conference over!”
Therewas a relieved air about the men gathered in the old house on Rattlesnake Island now that Tom Swift had made terms with them. Truth to tell, they had been more than a little afraid of this clear-eyed, keen young man who was able to dictate terms to them.
“Now let there be no mistake about this,” said Tom. “We can draw up a new agreement, incorporating in it the terms of this one,” and he produced the rough draft in which the men had agreed to molest him no longer.
“What do you want put in?” asked Mr. X, producing paper and a fountain pen.
“I want this three-million-dollar offer for a half interest in my invention put into an ironclad agreement. I also want your written promise to interfere with me no longer.”
“We aren’t likely to bother you, considering that we are now associated with you in this thing,” observed Mr. B.
“Well, it will do no harm to put it in,” decided Tom. “Also, I want you to acknowledge full responsibility for the actions of your men, Greenbaum and the others, and your promise to send them far away from here.”
“That’s no more than fair,” agreed Mr. X. “Those men went further than we told them to do. We had no sympathy with Greenbaum’s attempt to blow you up and——”
“It was more than an attempt,” interrupted Tom, with a grim smile. “There really was a disastrous explosion and I expect to be paid damages for that out of your share of the profits. I want that in the agreement, too.”
“You shall have it,” promised Mr. X, though some of his colleagues made rather wry faces at Tom’s exaction of his “pound of flesh.” But he was within his rights, and he knew it.
In a short time the agreement was drawn up and signed by all of them, and then Mr. X remarked:
“Of course this is contingent upon your invention being a success, Mr. Swift. Your broadcasting of songs and music must be clear, the images of the performers on the attached screen must be very plain, not shadowy forms, and the two must synchronize. You must remember that we have not seen your invention. All we know is what we have heard of it.”
“From your spies, doubtless,” Tom responded bitterly. “And they could find out very little. But don’t worry. The machine must be perfect before I put it on the market. I am going to have a final test and you may witness it in person or you may send any one you like to report.”
“Some of us will probably be on hand when you give a final showing,” said Mr. X. “And now, as it is getting late, I suggest that we adjourn. We want to get back to our homes and you do also, I suppose, Mr. Swift?”
“Yes, I don’t feel like spending another night on Rattlesnake Island,” replied Tom, with a smile. “One was enough. I’ll call in my friends and you can come to my final test—say a week from to-night in my private laboratory.”
“Thank you,” said Mr. X.
Tom bade the men good-night and went out into the darkness, leaving the conspirators to growl somewhat among themselves at having been beaten by a mere youth.
“At the same time,” said Mr. X, “I can’t help admiring Tom Swift for the manner in which he turned the tables on us.”
“That’s right,” chimed in another. “He’s the pluckiest fellow I ever had any dealings with. And to think, if we’d persisted, he could have had us all arrested and our names and our pictures would have been in the papers. Whew!”
“Oh my!” wailed Mr. B. “It’s cost us a pretty penny, but maybe it will be worth it.”
Meanwhile Tom, outside the old house, was signaling with his flashlight to call his friends in from their posts about the place.
“Is everything all right?” asked Ned, who led one of the four parties. He glided to his chum’s side from the darkness.
“Everything is settled, and we get three million dollars for a half interest,” said Tom, producing the agreement.
“Hot dog!” gleefully cried Ned. “That’s the best news yet! We sure will need that money, Tom! I couldn’t have held the banks off much longer. Good for you!”
In a short time Tom and Ned, with Mr. Damon, Koku and Eradicate were on their way back across Lake Carlopa, leaving the other members of the Swift party to follow in other boats as they pleased.
Though Tom Swift had gone to Rattlesnake Island alone as he had been bidden, the setting of his trap called for many of his most trusted men to precede him to the rendezvous. They had gone at intervals so no suspicions would be aroused.
So, during the day before the night of the meeting, several parties of seemingly innocent fishermen might have been seen landing on the island at a point farthest removed from the dock used by Tom. These parties were posted in the woods on four sides of the frame house and there they waited for Tom’s signal. Ned was in charge of one party and Mr. Damon of another. Garret Jackson and his assistant took command of the two remaining squads.
“And bless my fountain pen!” exclaimed Mr. Damon as they were talking matters over on their way home in Tom’s boat, “I thought you were never going to flash the signals, Tom.”
“It took a little time to get things where I wanted them,” the young inventor said. “But it worked out all right. They certainly were astonished.”
“Do you think they’ll play square with you, Tom?” asked Ned.
“They’ll have to, for their own safety. I’ve got them where they can’t help themselves. After the final demonstration, a week from to-night, we get the three millions.”
“I suppose there is no doubt, Tom, as to the success of the thing?” ventured Ned.
“Not the slightest!” Tom’s voice was full of confidence.
Grumblings and growlings were heard issuing from the throat of Koku. Tom asked what the trouble was.
“He’s complaining because there was no fight!” chuckled Mr. Damon. “He says Ned promised him that he could get hold of some of your enemies, Tom, but it all fizzled out.”
“Me want smash um!” growled the giant, clenching his big fists.
“Too bad!” chuckled Tom. “But I couldn’t pull off the fight, Koku. Better luck next time.”
Tom made his motorboat fast to his own private dock and went home to tell his father the good news—that all matters were satisfactorily settled. He knew the aged inventor would be worried.
“I’m glad you’re back, Tom,” Mr. Swift said when he saw his son. “Now you can take it easy. You’ve been working too hard.”
“The hard work isn’t over yet,” the young inventor answered. “I still have to give a perfect final test.”
To this end he and Ned and the workmen bent all their energies during the next six days. Mr. Swift aided where he could and Mr. Damon was again called on to do his funny song and dance. Now that the invention was about to be made public and Tom had no fear about his patents being stolen from him, the affair could be openly talked about.
“Are you going to ask us to the dress rehearsal?” inquired Mary, when Tom was spending an evening with her.
“Better than that—I want you to be in it,” he said.
“In it?”
“Yes, you and Helen. I want to see how ladies’ garments will be shown on the screen. Ned and Mr. Damon balk at becoming female impersonators. Will you help?”
“Delighted! Oh, Tom, I do hope it will be a success!”
The night of the final test came at last. Several changes had been made both in the projecting machine and in the broadcasting studio since Tom’s last attempt to show talking pictures. He had put a metallic curtain with reflecting mirrors in the room where Mr. Damon and Ned had done their part and the results were better.
“Though some day, Ned,” Tom said to his chum, after a preliminary test, “I’ll show these images without the use of any screen at all. I’ll pick the electric impulses right out of the air just as wireless sound waves come now.”
“That will mean you can broadcast from any theater without the use of this sort of curtain,” Ned remarked, pointing to the one in the broadcasting room.
“That’s right. All that will be needed in the theater will be a small cabinet, out of sight, on the stage. But more of that later. Now we’ll go ahead with the test.”
The moving picture and theatrical men, representing the syndicate that had bought a half interest in Tom’s invention, were on hand in the studio. They had brought with them some experts who were to pass on certain phases of the machine. Mr. Damon, with Ned and the two girls were in the studio. Tom Swift, with Mr. Jackson and some men to assist him, was busy at the projecting machine by means of which the audience hoped to hear the distant music and see the performers through several solid walls.
“All ready, Ned?” Tom asked over the private telephone.
“All set,” was the answer.
“Then get going!” ordered Tom in a low voice.
He turned the switch for the final test, knowing that a great deal depended on it. Those three million dollars were sorely needed to save the Swift fortunes.
Therewas a hissing, buzzing sound in the studio where, on an improvised stage, Ned, Mr. Damon, Mary Nestor and Helen Morton were going through a hastily sketched act.
Tom Swift had so improved his lighting arrangements, by using screen filters, that there was no restriction as to the color of the garments worn by the performers. The girls’ dresses were particularly gay and of many hues, for Tom wanted a bright picture on the screen. Mr. Damon had attired himself as a clown while Ned was a pirate with a red handkerchief on his head.
“Oh, a pirate’s life for me!” sang Ned, and so on with the rest of the song while the girls and Mr. Damon joined in.
On his part, in the laboratory room, Tom had adjusted the switches and stood near his machine. Ranged in a semicircle in front of him was the audience.
“Everything is ready, gentlemen,” said the young inventor in a low voice. “You will now see and hear what I have to offer.”
Suddenly, through the loud speaker, came the voices of the performers, as clear and distinct as though they were in the same room. There was no blasting effect, no tinny, horn-like element in the music.
A moment later the metallic glass screen attached to the apparatus glowed with a white light and before the eyes of the astonished gathering there appeared, in reduced form, but plainly and clearly, the images of the performers in a room several hundred feet away. Just as on a moving picture screen, only not as large, but beautifully colored and clearer than ever moving pictures had been, the images of Mary, Helen, Mr. Damon and Ned were observed. They smiled, gestured and went through various motions, not one of which was obscured and not one but synchronized exactly with the words they used.
“That’s my invention,” said Tom Swift simply. “If you think it is a success we can complete the deal.”
“I guess there’s no question of it,” said Mr. X. “I, for one, am satisfied and as soon as——”
He ceased speaking, for suddenly, in the midst of a song by the performers in the studio, the voices died away and the images faded from the screen.
“Don’t cut it off!” begged Mr. B. “I was just beginning to enjoy it.”
“I didn’t cut it off!” Tom answered quickly. “There’s something wrong!”
Then, from the corridor without, the voice of Koku was heard crying:
“I cotch him! I got him! Now I make him like jelly!”
Like an echo came a frightened voice begging:
“Let me go! Oh, let me go!”
“Greenbaum!” shouted Tom, springing to the door in time to see the giant holding the plotting man in a grasp that made him helpless.
“I cotch him!” cried Koku. “I be on watch out here like Mr. Tom always tell me. I see him sneak along and cut wire. He have big ball in his hand, too, but I knock it down. Over there in corner!”
Garret Jackson made a jump for the corner indicated and picked up something which made him utter an exclamation of dismay.
“It’s a bomb!” the superintendent shouted.
There was a pail of water near by and into that the infernal machine was dropped just in time, for the fuse was spluttering and burning down.
Greenbaum, choked into senselessness by Koku’s powerful grip, sank to the floor. Tom turned to the assembled moving picture and theater men. There was an implied accusation in his glance.
“I hope you will believe us when I say we had absolutely nothing to do with this,” said Mr. X. “We have not seen Greenbaum since his former unauthorized attack on you. This is a terrible surprise to us.”
“And to me, also,” said Tom. “I don’t know what damage he has done, but——”
“He not do much!” chuckled Koku. “Me cotch him in time.”
And so it proved. Greenbaum had managed to sneak into the laboratory because vigilance was somewhat relaxed, now that all danger seemed over. He had cut one of the electrical wires that carried power to Tom’s machine, hoping, in the confusion he knew would follow, to be able to plant his infernal machine and get away. But the giant was too quick for him.
“Is the machine ruined?” asked Ned, coming from the broadcasting studio, followed by the other performers.
“Bless my apple pie! And just when I was going to sing my song!” complained Mr. Damon.
But a quick examination showed nothing more wrong than a severed wire, which was soon spliced, so that the machine could work again, and after Greenbaum had been handed over to the police, first needing the attention of a doctor, however, the interrupted performance went on to a successful conclusion.
When the little playlet was ended, and the men engaged by Mr. X and his colleagues had made their report, the leader of the theatrical interests announced:
“We are satisfied, Mr. Swift. The deal can go through. You will be paid the three million to-morrow and we will at once form a company for manufacturing these machines and put them on the market. But I am afraid you still feel that we sent Greenbaum here.”
“No,” Tom answered, “I have good reasons for knowing you did not.”
“What reasons?” asked Mr. X in surprise.
“Because the man is insane. The doctor told me so just before he was taken away. You told me his losses in a moving picture deal had so turned his brain that he did more than you wanted him to when you first set him to spy on me. Well, his insanity is of a progressive form, and he is much worse now. He probably imagined that I was the cause of all his troubles, and so came to be revenged on me. I know you had nothing to do with it.”
“I am glad you are convinced of that,” said Mr. X. “And we have to thank you for treating us even better than, perhaps, we deserved. But from now on we will work in harmony.”
This promise was faithfully kept. Much to Ned Newton’s relief the sum of three millions was placed to the credit of the Swift concern the next day, and certain maturing notes were taken up. There was a goodly capital left, however, to start the manufacture of the talking-picture machines and they were soon put on the market, meeting with a big success. The radio and moving picture people, as well as several big theatrical interests, bought stock in the new company that was formed, and because of Tom’s invention, by means of which only authorized purchasers of his machine could view the broadcast scenes and listen to the music, there was no “bootlegging,” which meant that all the revenues would come to those entitled to them.
Tom was glad to learn, later, that Greenbaum’s insanity was not permanent, and that after the man was assured of a chance to make another fortune in the new business, his mind became calm and he was himself again. He was totally unaware of the outrages he had committed, though when told of them asked Tom’s forgiveness.
Snogg, Janner and Torpy were not heard of again, and the house on Rattlesnake Island, which was the property of the moving picture men, was made over to Tom as a sort of bonus. He and Ned spent many hours there, relaxing from their hard work.
It was after Greenbaum’s recovery, when certain things were recalled to him, that he explained what for a time had puzzled Ned and Tom. The man, who was an expert electrician, had found a means of neutralizing certain parts of the electrified fence. Hence he was able to get over, after the discovery of the planted bombs, to commit petty depredations that so annoyed Tom.
It was Greenbaum, also, who provided the fash melon that had thrown Koku off his guard. As Tom had guessed, the fruit was discovered in South America by a party of travelogue movie men who brought some back with them. Greenbaum, learning of Koku’s fondness for fash, used it to play what was nearly a fatal trick on the giant. Greenbaum had also been responsible for the “warning” Eradicate brought to Tom. That was just a bluff—intended to scare Tom, but it worked the other way.
The secret passage in the house on Rattlesnake Island was easily accounted for. The place had been built some years before to be used in making a certain moving picture, where a secret staircase played a part. Later the house was acquired by Mr. X and his colleagues to use as a prison and also as a meeting place for Tom.
Tom suitably rewarded Bill Tagg, the tramp, and that individual had his long ardent wish fulfilled. He rode in one of Tom’s aeroplanes and received the thrill of his life.
“Well, everything came out all right, didn’t it?” asked Ned of his chum as they sat in the house on Rattlesnake Island one evening after a successful day’s fishing. “Your talking pictures are making a hit.”
“They seem to be,” admitted Tom modestly. “Though when Greenbaum cut the wire that night of the final test I thought everything had gone bad. But, as you say, everything came out all right, and the future looks rosy to me. I’ve got another scheme in my mind.”
“Aren’t you ever going to stop?” chuckled Ned as he leaned lazily back in his chair.
“Not as long as I feel as well as I do now,” replied Tom Swift.
Whether he carried out his new idea or not remains to be seen.
THE END
This Isn’t All!
Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book?Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author?On the reverse side of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book.
Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book?
Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author?
On the reverse side of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book.
Don’t throw away the Wrapper
Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete catalog.
Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete catalog.
THE TOM SWIFT SERIESBy VICTOR APPLETONAuthor of “The Don Sturdy Series.”
Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading.
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTORCYCLETOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTORBOATTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIPTOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOATTOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGETOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUTTOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERSTOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICETOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACERTOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLETOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLDTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDERTOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITYTOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERATOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHTTOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNONTOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONETOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIPTOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNELTOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERSTOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANKTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUTTOM SWIFT AND HIS UNDERSEA SEARCHTOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERSTOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC LOCOMOTIVETOM SWIFT AND HIS FLYING BOATTOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT OIL GUSHERTOM SWIFT AND HIS CHEST OF SECRETSTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRLINE EXPRESSTOM SWIFT CIRCLING THE GLOBETOM SWIFT AND HIS TALKING PICTURESTOM SWIFT AND HIS HOUSE ON WHEELSTOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG DIRIGIBLETOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY TRAINTOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT MAGNET
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
WESTERN STORIES FOR BOYSBy JAMES CODY FERRIS
Individual Colored Wrappers and Illustrations byWALTER S. ROGERSEach Volume Complete in Itself.
Thrilling tales of the great west, told primarily for boys but which will be read by all who love mystery, rapid action, and adventures in the great open spaces.
The Manly Boys, Roy and Teddy, are the sons of an old ranchman, the owner of many thousands of heads of cattle. The lads know how to ride, how to shoot, and how to take care of themselves under any and all circumstances.
The cowboys of the X Bar X Ranch are real cowboys, on the job when required, but full of fun and daring—a bunch any reader will be delighted to know.
THE X BAR X BOYS ON THE RANCHTHE X BAR X BOYS IN THUNDER CANYONTHE X BAR X BOYS ON WHIRLPOOL RIVERTHE X BAR X BOYS ON BIG BISON TRAILTHE X BAR X BOYS AT THE ROUND-UPTHE X BAR X BOYS AT NUGGET CAMPTHE X BAR X BOYS AT RUSTLER’S GAPTHE X BAR X BOYS AT GRIZZLY PASSTHE X BAR X BOYS LOST IN THE ROCKIESTHE X BAR X BOYS RIDING FOR LIFE
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
TED SCOTT FLYING STORIES
By FRANKLIN W. DIXON
Illustrated. Each Volume Complete in Itself.
No subject has so thoroughly caught the imagination of young America as aviation. This series has been inspired by recent daring feats of the air, and is dedicated to Lindbergh, Byrd, Chamberlin and other heroes of the skies.
OVER THE OCEAN TO PARIS;or, Ted Scott’s Daring Long Distance Flight.
RESCUED IN THE CLOUDS;or, Ted Scott, Hero of the Air.
OVER THE ROCKIES WITH THE AIR MAIL;or, Ted Scott, Lost in the Wilderness.
FIRST STOP HONOLULU;or, Ted Scott Over the Pacific.
THE SEARCH FOR THE LOST FLYERS;or, Ted Scott Over the West Indies.
SOUTH OF THE RIO GRANDE;or, Ted Scott On a Secret Mission.
ACROSS THE PACIFIC;or, Ted Scott’s Hop to Australia.
THE LONE EAGLE OF THE BORDER;or, Ted Scott and the Diamond Smugglers.
FLYING AGAINST TIME;or, Breaking the Ocean to Ocean Record.
OVER THE JUNGLE TRAILS;or, Ted Scott and the Missing Explorers.
LOST AT THE SOUTH POLE;or, Ted Scott in Blizzard Land.
THROUGH THE AIR TO ALASKA;or, Ted Scott’s Search in Nugget Valley.
FLYING TO THE RESCUE;or, Ted Scott and the Big Dirigible.
DANGER TRAILS OF THE SKY;or, Ted Scott’s Great Mountain Climb.
FOLLOWING THE SUN SHADOW;or, Ted Scott and the Great Eclipse.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
TRANSCRIBER NOTES
Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed.
Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors occur.