Moving cautiously around, his eyes saw a little sliver of light coming through a crack in the floor. Getting as near this as he could, Tom looked down. He saw below him, gathered about the table, five men. Two were Kenny and Schlump. The other two he saw were his other captors, the masked men. The fifth man seemed to be the keeper of the lonely cabin. They were talking in cautious tones, but the crack in the floor acted as a sort of speaking tube, and Tom thus heard mention of the plot against him. “If we can’t do anything else,” muttered one of the men, “we’ll blow up the Swift plant and those airline express models, too. Then there will be no question about us getting the patent. That’s what we’ll do—we’ll blow up the plant!” “When?” some one asked. “To-morrow!” came the quick answer. Tom felt a sinking at his heart. Here he was, bound and helpless, in the hands of his enemies who were hatching a vile plot against him and his father. Blow up the Swift plant! It was terrible to contemplate! Tom began to struggle fiercely to release himself. CHAPTER VIII MR. DAMON’S NEWS “Bless my gasoline tank, I’m afraid I’ve done some damage!” cried Wakefield Damon. “If you haven’t damaged yourself you’re lucky,” grimly commented Ned. “No, I guess I’m all right,” said the eccentric man as he climbed out of his plane. He had managed to bring it to a level landing on the ground, though it was more by good luck than by good management. He had flown over from Waterfield in the early morning, and either had not seen, or else had forgotten about, Tom’s new mooring mast on the edge of the landing field. Straight for the big steel pole Mr. Damon had steered his craft, to swerve it at the last moment so that only one edge of a wing scraped it. However, that impact was sufficiently forceful to snap off the top of the mast and crumple the airship’s wing. “You got out of that pretty well,” commented Ned, as he made sure, half by feeling and half by an inspection of the odd man, that he was not injured. A casual inspection proved, too, that the plane was not as badly damaged as at first feared. “I’m sorry about that mooring mast,” said Mr. Damon. “You must tell Tom to send me the bill for repairing it, Mr. Swift. By the way, where is Tom? I have some news for him.” He looked about the assembled group formed by Ned, Mr. Swift, Koku, and Eradicate. Something of their anxiety must have showed on their faces, for Mr. Damon asked: “Has anything happened to Tom?” “We don’t know,” answered Ned. “We can’t find him,” went on Mr. Swift gravely. “Do you know where he is, Mr. Damon?” “Me? No, I haven’t seen him,” was the answer. “But I have some news, just the same.” “News!” cried Ned. “What kind of news?” “Not very good, I’m afraid. I’ll tell you about it.” “How did you come to be flying so early in the morning?” Ned wanted to know.