“Even if you didn’t hear a row, Tom, there must have been one,” insisted Ned. “Koku wouldn’t let that chest be taken away without a fight, and when he starts to fight something breaks.” “Yes, that’s the puzzling part of it,” admitted the young inventor. “There isn’t any evidence of anything having been disturbed here. But I found one of the outer doors open, and the electric alarm cut, which shows how the robbers entered and left. They probably used a skeleton key to open the place, and didn’t lock the door after them when they left. I wish I had done what I’ve been planning to do—kept my plans in a burglar-proof vault. Now I’m going to start to build one right here.” “Any signs of a fight or a struggle in Koku’s bedroom?” asked the foreman of the pattern shop. “No. The clothes are thrown back off the bed as though the giant got up in the usual way,” answered Tom. “There is no sign of violence. But several heads are better than one, and that’s why I summoned you all here—I’d like your advice on the matter.” The men were trained observers, quick and accurate in their work, as they needs must be to build the complicated machines evolved by Tom Swift and his father. In a sense, they were as good observers as detectives would have been, and Tom did not want to call in the police. He did not want his loss broadcasted. “This is fierce!” exclaimed Ned, as the extent of the loss was more fully realized. He and Tom were sitting in the office while the foremen moved about the place, looking for possible clews in the place where the chest had stood, in Koku’s room, and outside the building. “It sure is,” agreed the young inventor. “All my plans for the train-stopping device were in that chest. Now they’re gone, and I have no duplicates!” “And your tidal engine, too,” suggested Ned. “Yes,” sighed Tom. “I guess my dream of harnessing the ocean will not be realized for some time. Of course I may be able to work out the ideas in some other way, but it means a big loss. And there are other papers, too. There were dad’s designs of the gyroscope flier, and——” “What’s that about my gyroscope flier?” asked Mr. Swift, at that moment entering the place. “I’ve come for those plans now, Tom. I have just thought of a new idea in connection with the engine.” “I’m afraid you can’t have the plans, Dad,” returned the son. “They’re gone! The whole chest of secrets has been stolen!” Tom had been debating in his mind whether or not to tell his father the bad news, fearing the effect it might have on the elderly man’s heart. But Barton Swift was no weakling. Like a charger sniffing the powder of battle from afar, he drew himself up and together at the same time crying: “So our enemies are at some of their old tricks, are they, Tom? Well, don’t let them see that we mind! Don’t show the white feather. We’ll fight ’em, Tom! We’ll fight ’em!” “That’s the talk!” cried Ned, while Tom was much delighted to note that his father took the blow standing up.