"All right, Master Tom, I'm coming!" called the voice of the engineer from his shack. "Are you hurt? Is Mrs. Baggert murdered? I hear her screaming." "That's pretty good evidence that she isn't murdered," said Tom with a grim smile. "Are you hurt?" again called Mr. Jackson. "No, I'm all right," answered Tom. "Did you see any one running away as you came up?" "No, Master Tom, I didn't. What happened?" "A burglar got in, and I had him cornered, but he got away when I fired to arouse you." By this time the engineer was at the stoop, on which the window opened. Tom unlocked a side door and admitted Mr. Jackson, and then, the incandescent light having been turned on, the two looked around the apartment. Nothing in it had been disturbed, and the safe had not been opened. "I heard him just in time," commented Tom, telling the engineer what had happened. "I wish I had thought to get between him and the window. Then he couldn't have gotten away." "He might have injured you, though," said Mr. Jackson. "We'll go outside now, and look--" "Is any one killed? Are you both murdered?" cried Mrs. Baggert at the dining-room door. "If any one is killed I'm not coming in there. I can't bear the sight of blood." "No one is hurt," declared Tom with a laugh. "Come on in, Mrs. Baggert," and the housekeeper entered, her hair all done up in curl papers. "Oh, my goodness me!" she exclaimed. "When I heard that cannon go off I was sure the house was coming down. How is it some one wasn't killed?" "That wasn't a cannon; it was only my little rifle," said Tom, and then he told again, for the benefit of the housekeeper, the story of what had happened. "We'd better hurry and look around the premises," suggested Mr. Jackson. "Maybe he is hiding, and will come back, or perhaps he has some confederates on the watch." "Not much danger of that," declared Tom. "Happy Harry is far enough away from here now, and so are his confederates, if he had any, which I doubt. Still, it will do no harm to take a look around." A search resulted in nothing, however, and the Swift household had soon settled down again, though no one slept soundly during the remainder of the night. In the morning Tom sent word of what had happened to the police of Shopton. Some officers came out to the house, but, beyond looking wisely at the window by which the burglar had entered and at some footprints in the garden, they could do nothing. Tom wanted to go off on his motor-cycle on a tour of the surrounding neighborhood to see if he could get any clues, but he did not think it would be wise in the absence of his father. He thought it would be better to remain at home, in case any further efforts were made to get possession of valuable models or papers.