In spite of Tom’s haste in making preparations, it was not until the next morning that he was able to take the mysterious trail that he hoped would lead to his kidnapped chum. In the first place, the old tramp was really so weak from lack of food and from his long walk that Dr. Layton said it would not be wise to start out with him as a guide until he had had a night’s rest and plenty of nourishing food. Then a slight accident occurred in one of the shops and Tom had to straighten that out. It was not serious, however. So, early the morning following the receipt of the kite message, Tom, with Mr. Damon, Koku and Bill Tagg, as the tramp called himself, started off in the speedy electric runabout for Cherry Valley. Just as they were about to leave, Jacob Greenbaum came hurrying out of the private laboratory. “Are you going away, Mr. Swift?” the man asked. “Yes,” Tom answered, though he gave no further particulars. The attempt to rescue Ned was being kept secret. No information was given out concerning the identity of the strange tramp, Bill Tagg, and, aside from a private message conveyed to Mr. and Mrs. Newton that Ned had been heard from, nothing was said about the strange clue. “Yes, Greenbaum, I am going away for a little trip. Is there anything you wanted to see me about?” “Yes, Mr. Swift, there is. I’ve reached a critical point in this magnetic gear shift model and if you could come in my room——” There was a strange look in the man’s eyes—a look Tom Swift did not like. The man seemed unduly eager to get Tom out of the auto and back into the laboratory. “I haven’t time, Greenbaum,” the young inventor said. “I’ll see you when I get back. That gear shift will keep.” With that Tom turned on the current and the runabout speeded down the drive. A look back over his shoulder showed the man still standing there, with that same eager, tense look on his face. “I think,” said Tom to himself, “that my suspicions of you will soon be justified, Greenbaum. But just now I’m on the trail of Ned Newton!” The motors hummed more shrilly as the runabout gathered speed. CHAPTER VI TOO LATE “THIS is a pretty slick little car, boss,” said Tagg when they had passed the confines of Shopton and were heading out into the country. “She sure can go! Beats old Shanks’ mare,” and he looked down at his legs which had carried him to Tom’s home with the mysterious message. The tramp had been provided with some decent clothes, he had taken a bath and shaved, and was quite a different looking man from the one who first encountered Mr. Damon and Tom. “Yes,” admitted the young inventor as he listened to the hum of the small but powerful motors as they received their impulses from the storage battery Tom had evolved. “At one time this was the speediest car on the road, but I have some now that can beat this.” “And they aren’t in it with some of the airships Mr. Swift has,” remarked Mr. Damon.